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milliedazzledust · 3 years

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Unspoken (Bucky Barnes imagine)

Request by @screechingdreamercollectorsblog : the reader lost all her family and also a twin sister. She’s in love with Bucky but he doesn't know and no one knows her story except Steve but he never told it as it was her decision. One day Wanda tells her "you don't know what it’s like to lose somebody especially a twin." And Reader said "Actually I do." And then She walks away. Bucky heard It and goes to talk to her and also they confess each other feelings. Also She starts an amazing friend ship with Wanda.

Words: 3183 words

A/N: So many ideas, I feel like this needs to be a several part story. Thanks for the request, this was fun to write -

She thought a lot about her family. The memory of their death, the circumstances that led to it, the guilt. It was all a constant reminder, every day, of what she lost. She often felt like she was walking with a shadow on her back, consuming what was left of light, making her into this gloomy person everyone was so afraid to get close to. In a way, she was glad. Her guilt made her believe living this way was her sentence and she couldn’t allow anybody else to carry her burden. One person knew though, the only hope on her pathway. Steve Rogers. He hadn’t been bold enough to ask her up front but instead waited, close enough so she knew he was there, until she was ready to confide in him. Late one night, he had found her crying on the rooftop of the Avengers tower. Silently, he had put a blanket on her shoulders and had sit next to her. Without looking at him, she had told him everything. There had been no judgment from the Captain, not even a look of pity. He promised he wouldn’t tell a soul and after that, she grew closer from the man she considered now family.

That’s how Steve picked up on what was happening in front of his eyes before anybody else. Everyday, he would catch Bucky’s eyes lingering on her. The Soldier often asked Steve about her, he could guess the sadness behind every broken smile. Behind her cracks, he could almost see his own. She reminded him a lot of what it had mean to become the Winter Soldier, of the pain his mind had endured as Hydra tore it into pieces. While he was curious of her past, he also understood that whatever it was, she hadn’t dealt with it. The grief was evident and he wanted nothing more than to help her anyway he could, but every time he took a step toward her, she took three more backward. Steve assured him it wasn’t his fault. They both could see the internal struggle within her, the raging battle between self-inflicted pain and sheer will to live again. So far, she hadn’t give in and instead opted for an illusion only Steve and Bucky weren’t falling for.

She wasn’t the only one feeling the overbearing weight of grief. That specific day marked the one year anniversary of their battle in Sokovia. There was an eerie, gloomy atmosphere inside the compound. For the Avengers, it was the reminder of a difficult battle, of many lives lost, of victory. For Wanda Maximoff, it was the day she lost her brother. She had barely left her bedroom and no one dared go speak to her. Natasha and Vision had gone to see how she was doing but she had refused the company. They could all hear her crying and had collectively silently agreed that it was better to let her process her feelings alone. Y/N was debating wether she should follow their example. She had been standing close to Wanda’s bedroom door for the past hour when she felt a presence next to her.

“You should go talk to her” She heard someone whisper.

She turned her head, her eyes landing on a pretty concerned Captain.

“Wil it really make a difference ?” She asked.

“She’s hurting” Steve answered. “Just like you”

The woman dropped her head.

“I’m not sure, I .. I won’t know what to say”

“You’ll know exactly what to say, Y/N. You’ve both lost a lot”

“So have you. So have everybody here”

He sadly nodded.

“Why does it have to be me ?”

“Because we’ve all grieved. We made peace with whatever happened to us. We don’t feel sadness, anger or guilt just thinking about whomever we lost.” He explained. “You do. Just like her.”

She pursed her lips.

“I can’t pretend to understand, Y/N, because I don’t. I see the mountain that is your pain everyday when I look into your eyes. And, behind this door is a friend who’s going through the same loss you’ve experienced. Even if you haven’t dealt with the death of your sister, you know what it was like for her to lose Pietro, to live without him, to not be capable to let yourself be alive when half of you isn’t anymore”

Hearing his words was enough to reopen the gigantic wound inside her chest. She knew he was right, but it didn’t make it any easier. He put a comforting hand on her shoulder, encouraging her with a soft smile.

“Alright. I’ll go”

She glanced at Wanda’s bedroom before looking back at Steve and swallowed the lump in her throat. Taking a deep breath, she closed the distance and knocked. Not waiting for an answer, she walked inside. She knew if she had ask Wanda, the Witch would have let her wait without an answer until she left.

The young woman was sitting on her bed, her gaze drifting into space. Y/N wasn’t sure she had even acknowledge her presence. All she could see was her soul bleeding an ocean through her eyes. When she sat next to her on the bed, Wanda tried to brush the tears away but it was useless. She couldn’t stop crying.

“I’m sorry you lost him” Y/N whispered.

She cursed under her breath, knowing those were in no way comforting words.

“If you came to tell me you understand, you can leave” She replied with a thick accent.

For a moment, Y/N did not say a word. She was thinking hard of something that could appease her friend, but her mind was blank.

“Are you also going to ask me if I’m okay” She heard Wanda say.

“What is the point ? I know you’re not”

She sighed.

“I’ve always hated that question. How are you suppose to know how you are if all you can feel is emptiness… It’s easier to say yes, put on a smile and turn your head”

“Is that why you’re here ? Are you expecting a yes or the truth ?”

“I already know the truth”

Wanda humorlessly chuckle.

“Are you going to pretend you know what I’m feeling ?” She told her with irony

“That’s the thing. I don’t need to pretend”

She felt her friend tense beside her.

“You should leave”

“Wanda…”

“No!” She shouted, getting up to put a distance between them. “I don’t need you to tell me I’m gonna be alright! I don’t need to hear it will hurt less with time, that I will forget ! Because I won’t, okay, I won’t!”

She started sobbing. For a split second, Y/N thought about hugging her, but she knew that this wouldn’t be a good idea. When her sister died, she couldn’t bear the hugs. They were so full of light and hope, such a bright contrast to the dark that was surrounding her. So she stayed on the bed, and watched her friend break down. Wanda needed the pain, she needed the anger, because they would inevitably lead to the last stage of grief. To life.

“Stop pretending to get this … this torture, because I can assure you, you don’t” Wanda vehemently told her, pacing around the room. “My heart is broken, okay ? It’s … It’s shattered. Not even in pieces, because he took those with him when he died.”

“Wanda …”

“No! You don’t know what it’s like to lose somebody !” Wanda yelled back. “Especially a twin!”

“Actually, I do”

Wanda instantly stopped walking and turned back to her friend, surprised. She watched Y/N playing with her hands, trying to keep the tears at bay, her eyes fixed on her lap, refusing to catch a glimpse of pity when she’ll start talking.

“It.. It doesn’t stop. The pain, I mean. It’s like this overbearing weight that crushes you every single minute of every single day. And when you get a moment to breath, a moment where you don’t feel your heart might explode of sadness, you feel guilty. So all that’s left of you now is pain and guilt. I can’t tell you it’ll get better, because it never did for me.”

She brushed the tears on her cheek as Wanda slowly sat back next to her.

“The world stopped when I lost her, my twin I mean” She continued, starring into space. “And I try, I swear I try to make it work again, but to this day all I keep asking myself is why her … why her and not…me. She was so much stronger than me, she deserved …”

A sob escaped her lips, preventing her from speaking.

“Steve told me I would be able to help you, because I understand your pain. But I can’t. What good would it do to you if I told you I feel like dying every time I think about my memories of her ?”

She humorlessly laughed.

“What good would it do if I confess I don’t want to live because I’m scarred of forgetting ? That I can’t breathe because each breath feels like I’ve cheated death ? That I’m becoming a void of darkness silently sinking ?”

They stayed silence before Wanda’s hand slowly came to hold hers. They spent a short moment without talking. Two woman with broken soul that understood each other on a level no one else’s could.

“You know ..” The Witch started to mutter. “Vis’ told me something once, and it stuck up on me ever since.”

“What was it ?”

“What is grief, if not love persevering”

A tear roll down Y/N’s cheeks, the words stabbing her right through the chest. Suddenly, she was up on her feet, alert and disoriented. This was sheer pain like she had rarely known, wide open scars bleeding through her soul.

“I can’t” She breathlessly told her friend. “I … I’m … I’m sorry Wanda I ca..”

And she fled the room. As soon as she stepped outside of it, she bumped into a muscular chest. Stopping in her tracks, she looked up. That’s when she saw it, what she dreaded the most. A look of pity. Bucky was standing in front of her, searching her eyes, his mouth open like the words were on the tip of his tongue yet he couldn’t voice any of them. He raised an arm toward her, a reflex to comfort the woman he cared the most about, but she was gone in a second. He turned back to glance at Wanda. The woman sadly smile and shook her head.

“Go get her” She simply told him.

And just like that, he was gone. He started by her bedroom, but she wasn’t there. He went to the lab, asked Tony and Bruce if they had seen her, but she wasn’t there. He passed by the gym, than their living room, but again, she was not there. He was almost running inside the building, going anywhere he could think of, but there was no sign of her. He was very frustrated when he crossed path with his best friend.

“Wha …” Steve started to ask.

“Y/N” Barnes only answered, almost out of breath.

The Captain hummed, watching his distress, knowing it was a bad time to ask him about it.

“She’s on the roof”

Bucky didn’t wait, not even hearing what Steve said next, and fled. He didn’t take the elevator and rushed up the stairs. It was a long way up but he did not care. All his mind was focused on was closing the distance between them. Finally, she was there. Sitting on the edge of the building, the sun shining so bright above their head.

“Please tell me you were not thinking of jumping” He said, half joking.

She didn’t turn around to look at him. She had felt his presence before he was even near her.

“The thought crossed my mind” She admitted.

He didn’t want to know if she was joking. Quietly, he stepped next to her and sat on the border, his legs dangling in the air.

“What happened ?” He inquired.

“I just … I thought I could help Wanda and…”

“That’s not what I’m asking” He cut her. “What happened to you Y/N ?”

She pursed her lips, turning for the first time to look back at him. She was almost expecting to see the pity in his eyes, but instead it had been replaced by worry.

“I had a family before the Avengers”

“A family you’ve lost” He guessed.

“…Yes. I couldn’t save them”

He raised his head toward her. She could see the millions of questions he had behind his stare. He was too polite to ask her but she knew he wanted to know. So she turned back to look at the garden in front of the compound, focused on the daisies Tony had insisted to have, and started to tell him her story.

“My parents were … scientists. Experts in genome manipulation. They were working for the government, for Shield. They discovered something important, something they wouldn’t tell us anything about. They started to get edgy, paranoiac, always looking over their shoulder. Whatever it was they found, they were scared. We fled America at the time. My sister and I, we didn’t understand what was happening, we didn’t get that … that they knew they were gonna die. That they were trying to keep us alive”

“What did they find ?”

“I don’t know. That’s why I’m here”

“I don’t understand”

She closed her eyes, remembering them.

“They experimented it on me”

“What ?”

He was shocked.

“We were in Stockholm at the time. One night, they took me to their lab, they said they needed me to work. I was seventeen, just so happy to be with them, so I said yes. Four days later, I woke up alone, surrounded by ashes and no memories. I found …” She stopped for a second, her lips quivering. “I found what was left of their bodies. My sister was there too. All of them, dead.”

Tears started to roll down her cheeks.

“I was convinced I killed them, I couldn’t move, I was just … stuck. So I stayed there, laying on the ground, next to their bodies, until Tony found me.”

“That’s how you came to live with Stark”

“Yes. He took me in, changed my name and my story, made me swear to never talk about this”

“Why ?”

“He helped me figure out what happened that night. My parents did succeed in their experiment. They made me … enhanced. That’s what they called it anyway”

“They gave you your powers” He guessed.

“Yes. The same day, Shield found them. While I was under, they put a bullet in their head. My sister was supposed to be sick, at home. But she sneaked out and hid in the lab. She just wanted to be with us. Shield tried to make it seen like it was an accident, a malfunction”

“An explosion”

She nodded.

“Yes. They blew up the lab, with all of us in there”

“But you didn’t die”

“I absorbed the blast”

“Oh…”

She brushed the tears off her face, looking at her trembling hands. It was useless to try to make them stop.

“I never found out who was behind their assassination, or what I am suppose to be”

“What you’re suppose to be ?” He repeated, surprised.

“They put their secret inside me, that’s how I came to be. But what is it, and what am I?”

He frowned, his mind working a thousand miles an hour.

“Do you really think this changes who you are ?” He asked her.

“I lost my identity, Bucky. I lost the person I was. Those powers, they turn me into something I’m not”

“Are you saying I’m the Winter Soldier? That I’m … not a person anymore but a program design to kill ?”

He knew the answer to that question, but he needed her to understand.

“Of course not!” She vehemently answered.

“This is the same fight, Y/N. Hydra might have wiped out my memories, but Bucky Barnes reappeared each time they tried to erase him, because this is who I am. My strength, my arm, my alter-ego, they don’t define who Bucky is. The kid that grew up in Brooklyn does”

“Do you really believe that ?”

“I believe we’ve been broken. But it doesn’t mean we can’t be fix”

His metal arm moved to hold her hand. When she turns around to look at him, he gently tucked a piece of hair behind her ear with his human hand before brushing his fingertips on her cheek, wiping her tears away.

“I don’t know how many times you’ll need to hear this, Y/N, but we’re not beyond repair” He whispered.

A shiver ran up her spine at his whole demeanor. His shoulders held high, his eyes boring into hers, all she could see was his rage to live, his will to rebuilt stronger foundations around their broken pieces. No it was not pity anymore, nor was it worry. All she saw now was admiration.

“You and I, we are survivors” He said with force.

He was a warm light she had yearn to feel, fresh air she thought would never touch her skin again. Wordlessly, she laid her forehead on his chest and closed her eyes. She didn’t want this feeling to go away and wished to hard she could bottle up this moment with him forever. They stayed like this, her body against his, his hand entangled in her hair, his chin resting above her head, and for a moment none of them spoke.

“Why do I feel so guilty to have you” She muttered so low he almost didn’t hear her.

“Because you know I can bring you peace” He honestly answered next to her ear.

“If I let you in, if I take the risk to be hurt again and I lose you…”

“You won’t”

“You don’t know that for sure”

“I know I’ve got strong feelings for you, and they won’t go away”

“And I feel the same, but we’re gonna get hurt”

“Isn’t that what love is about ? Navigating between feelings so loud they can’t be shut down, even after death. Stop being so afraid to keep on living, Y/N.”

“Bucky …” She called, slowly raising her head to look at him.

“I’m not giving you a choice, doll.”

Before she could talk herself out of this, he closed the short distance between them and laid his lips on hers. Suddenly, what was a flame became a raging fire in the pit of her stomach. She could feel her heart pumping all the way to her ears, feel the tingling sensation of his fingertips against her skin, a sense of peace finally. This was raw emotions they were sharing, sparks of electricity they were making as their lips were moving. Their own world they were creating. A promise they were sealing.

“You’re gonna be okay” He assured her, kissing her forehead.

“Promise me you’ll stay, Bucky”

“For as long as you’ll let me” He finished.

She looked up at him with hope.

“I promise”

#james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes x reader #winter soldier #winter soldier imagine #winter soldier imagines #winter soldier x reader #the winter soldier #the winter soldier imagine #the winter soldier imagines #the winter soldier x reader #falcon and the winter soldier

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tuiccim · 3 years

Text

Terrigenisis (Part 17)

Pairing: Steve Rogers X Bucky Barnes X Inhuman!Reader

Words: 1700

Summary: After undergoing terrigenisis unwillingly your life is turned upside down when you are deemed too dangerous to return to life as a civilian. You are put with the Avengers team to train and rebuild. As you hone your powers and skills, you must also decide if you can find home and love again. Or is your curse to be a lonely wanderer forever?

Warnings: a god of Mischief (He’s a warning, okay?)

Terrigenisis Series Masterlist Divider by @firefly-graphics

You lounged on the lawn furniture in the back of the compound watching Dizzy run in joyful circles as Redtail made loops overhead. You had brought a tennis ball out and Dizzy was adorable as she ran around with it in her mouth. Occasionally, she’d drop it in your laugh and you’d throw it out into the expanse of lawn. You laughed as she leapt into action each time the ball was thrown. Redtail would swoop down every now and then to tease the dog.

The rest of the team was out on missions or meetings. Sam, Steve, and Bucky had been sent on a mission yesterday afternoon and you were enjoying some down time. It felt like it had been some time since it had happened. You stretched lazily, basking in the feel of the sun on your skin and the feeling of contentment.

You hear footsteps approaching and turn to see Loki walking towards you. He had been in a meeting with Thor, Tony, and Maria Hill when you had checked earlier.

“Hi. How’d the meeting go?” You greet the god.

“It went well. Nothing of grave importance,” Loki takes the chair next to you, “What are you up to?”

“Relaxing in this glorious weather,” you see his eyes take in your tank top, jean shorts, and sandals. “You know, I’ve never seen you in anything except the leather. Is there casual wear on Asgard?”

“Simple tunics and robes but, as prince and warrior, I do not wear them often.” Loki raises an eyebrow at you.

“I see. What about for Tony’s party this weekend? Will you wear this?” you motion to his attire.

“I plan to wear a suit.” Loki chuckles.

“I look forward to seeing that. Isn’t the leather hot though? It’s 80 today.”

“I could strip for you if you’d like.” Loki smirks playfully.

“That’s okay,” you hold your hands up in defeat.

“Is this better?” Loki’s form shimmers for a moment before revealing him in bermuda shorts and hawaiin shirt.

You grin, “I like it! You look ready for a beach vacation.” You stare at Loki for a moment, wondering about his personal life. He knew a lot about you but rarely revealed much about himself. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course, darling. Anything.”

“Do you have… someone? Here or on Asgard or… somewhere?” you stammer through the question.

“Your two lovers are not enough for you?” Loki chuckles.

“They’re plenty for me. You don’t talk about yourself much, Lok. I mean, you don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to but I’m curious about you. We’re friends and so I wonder, is there someone? Are you a player? Are you a monk? You know my story. You haven’t given me much of yours. Have you ever been in love?”

Loki studies you for a moment and then nods as if deciding something to himself, “I suppose I would be what you Midgardians refer to as a player.”

“Love ‘em and leave ‘em?” you giggle.

“I suppose. There’s only ever been one person who…” Loki trails off.

“Who what?”

“Who I thought I could fall for.”

“What happened?” You question.

“She belongs to another.” Loki says as he looks away.

“She belongs only to herself.” You counter.

“Of course. She’s engaged to another.”

“I’m sorry.” You tell him.

“Thank you.” Loki pauses to contemplate before asking, “Are you happy? You’ve been through a lot in your short life.”

You smile at the statement, “I’m not that young, Loki.”

“I’m over 1000 years old.” Loki deadpans.

“True,” you laugh, amazed at the lifespan of Asgardians, “Yes. I am happy. This isn’t what I imagined my life to be. Terrigenisis tore my world apart but you make the best of what you have. I have a family in the team, lovers in Steve and Bucky, friends, a purpose. This is… home.”

“And I’m your friend?” Loki asks.

“Of course you are.”

“Aren’t you afraid I’ll betray you at some point? I mean, I am notorious.”

“I trust you, Loki. I think I know your heart, but understand that I live by the statement, ‘Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.’ I may let someone make a fool of me once but I won’t let them a second time. Once you lose my trust, it’s gone and would take a great deal to earn it back,” you explain.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“I have to trust you. I’m letting you play with my brain.”

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Giving me a chance. Trusting me. Seeing me as something other than the villain that I was.”

“You’re more than your past. Oh!” you exclaim when a slobber covered ball is dropped in your lap. “Hi Dizz.” you laugh and throw the ball for her.

“She has you well trained.” Loki smirks.

“That she does. Speaking of training, are you up for another session?” you ask.

“Same time as always, darling. I’ll see you then.” Loki gets up.

“See ya later, friend,” you watch as Loki walks back to the building, dropping the glamour to reveal his normal outfit as he walks. He sends you a brief wave before walking into the building. Your attention is pulled away when Dizzy drops the ball in your lap again. Time to play.

You get to the training room early to do some climbing and ended up in the rafters as you were known to do. You were just about to climb down when Loki entered with Thor trailing behind him.

“Drop it, brother,” Loki grouses at him.

“Just tell me you aren’t playing at anything with her and I will,” Thor demands.

“Mortals are your weakness,” Loki rolls his eyes at his brother.

“Love is not weakness, Loki.”

“I do not feel that way about her. She is a friend. Much like Sif is to you.” Loki says pointedly.

“That’s all I wanted, brother,” Thor smiles.

You clear your throat loudly, “Good afternoon, gentlemen.”

Loki looks up at you in amusement, “How long have you been there?”

“Well before you came in,” you wink at him.

Thor looks at you sheepishly, “I’ll let you two get to your training.”

“Okay. See ya later,” you are holding in your giggle as you make your way to the climbing rope and jump to it. When you slide to the floor, you look into Loki’s mischievous eyes and you both burst into laughter. When it’s spent you say dramatically, “Loki! I can no longer control myself. I must swoon into your arms!” You pretend to faint against him and he catches you.

“You’re ridiculous.” Loki narrows his eyes at you.

“Yup! And you, my friend, are stuck with me!” You stand back up.

“You know that won’t be the last time someone will make the insinuation.” Loki says quietly.

“People have a hard time believing a man and woman can be just friends,” you shrug.

“That is true. Can I ask you something?” Loki asks.

“Of course.”

“Hypothetically, would you have been able to fall in love with me if…” Loki trails off.

“I don’t think I would let myself fall in love with any Asgardian,” you admit.

“Why?”

“How old are you, Loki?”

“A little over a thousand years.”

“Exactly. Asgardians live for around 5,000 years, right?”

“Yes.”

“That’s why. Humans live maybe 80 years. That’s a blink in comparison. I’ve lost a lot of people who are important to me in my life. I don’t think I could purposely put someone through that. Falling for an Asgardian, letting them fall for you, would mean making them watch you die while they live on for millenia. I don’t think I could do that to someone, ever. It’s difficult enough being friends and knowing that. Being lovers, it would be unbearable.”

Loki nods, “I couldn’t have said it better myself.”

You smile at him, glad he understands. “How about we get to work?”

“Let’s go, darling.”

Over the past week, you had worked up to slipping into Loki’s mind without the unbearable pain. It still caused a headache but you were able to see through his eyes and communicate in a similar fashion to how you did with animals. Today, you were attempting to take control of Loki’s movement. It wasn’t easy. Just lifting his hand took a toll. You drop the warg after a moment.

“What’s wrong?” Loki looks concerned.

“It’s difficult. The pain is worse,” you explain.

“Why don’t you warg and I’ll do some magic? Just play around a bit.”

“Okay. Sounds fun,” you warg back into Loki. He begins doing some simple tricks and you watch in delight. You try to concentrate on the motions he makes, the feel of the magic flowing through him, and his thought process as he works. A picture flashes in Loki’s mind and you catch a glimpse of a beautiful face before he forces it away.

“Does she know?” You ask in his head.

“What?” Loki hedges.

“Does she know?” you drop the warg.

“No.” Loki says.

“Then she’s not.”

“Not what?”

“She’s not lost to you. How do you know she doesn’t feel the same way?” you push.

“She… I… I don’t… She couldn’t-”

“Oh, I’m gonna stop you right there. She could. She really could, but if you never told her how you feel, what’s she supposed to do?”

“She’s engaged.” Loki insists.

“She’s not married, Loki. You should tell her. Wouldn’t it be better to know?”

“What?”

“At least then you’d know. Either she doesn’t and you have closure to move on. Or she does and you two can figure it out. ‘Better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all’, right? Better to say it and know than to spend the next few millennia wondering,” you needle.

“I…” Loki falters with a far away look in his eyes.

“Just promise me you’ll think about it.”

“I will.” Loki nods.

“Good,” you see Loki’s concentration is completely gone, “Why don’t we leave it for today?”

“Oh. Yes, good. I’ll see you later.” Loki walks away lost in thought.

“Later, loverboy,” you whisper with a chuckle to yourself.

Part 18

Tuiccim’s Masterlist

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anxiousstark · 3 years

Text

All that’s left

KO-FI | BIG MASTERLIST |

I normally only read related to Chris Evans and his characters, but here we are.

Word count: 1909

Warnings: Mentions of injuries, blood, swearing (always), death, etc.

↪ PLEASE RESPECT MY WORK. DON’T COPY, TRANSLATE OR CLAIM THEM AS YOURS. NOT ON THIS WEBSITE OR ANOTHER. ALL RIGHTS ARE RESERVED.

All the things you went through could not be compared to the last battle of your life, the one where to save an entire world, numerous people you deeply loved had gradually lost theirs.

It was a terrifying feeling, observing the bright light in their eyes fade away while their eyelids drooped until there was no more energy to keep them open. The guttural voices were stuck in your head as their mouths opened and closed several times. The way they attempted to swallow, believing that the action would let them say their last words. Some got to announce their latest wishes or goodbyes, others weren't so fortunate, gagging on their blood.

Everyone knew that this last war would bring grief, guilt and trauma. And even though everyone knew that some people would inevitably be left behind, they also deeply hoped for them to survive. But perhaps, it was too much to ask for the universe or whoever was up there.

Natasha Romanoff, also known as Black Widow. She was probably one of those people you couldn't help but end up loving like an older sister. She tried to maintain that witty, cold facade to avoid people from deceiving her. Nevertheless, you always thought that she didn't need to maintain an image. Everyone knew how great Natasha Romanoff was.

Deep inside, every one of the Avengers knew that they would lose her. Nat had been a woman with a tough childhood and life. She was someone who believed and claimed not to have a family. Of course, all of this, before she became part of the Avengers. A group of people who would have given their lives for her. However, she was the one who gave up her life.

You sometimes glimpsed at Clint when he was in the compound, staring at the space Nathasa always preferred. It was her seat, her place. An empty one.

You had cried. You had mourned when Clint had come back, swearing he had tried to save her. You knew he had. Everyone knew. But they also knew how Natasha's mind worked. They knew she would sacrifice herself for Clint, one of the closest Avengers to her, and the one who had a wife and children waiting at home.

Notwithstanding, there was a big pain in your heart. You hoped that she felt loved, that she knew that every one of the Avengers had lost a piece of soul and brightness as soon as they understood she was never coming back.

That night, it was Steve Rogers who held you tightly even if his heart was as broken as yours, or even more. His fingers had intertwined with the locks of your hair as he shushed you while his body rocked your own one. If only that was the only sadness you would have to go through.

Not long after Natasha passed away, Tony Stark had sacrificed his life for those he loved. At that time, everything was over. The war with Thanos was over. But, another war invaded everyone. The internal war of dealing with the death of Tony Stark.

How unfair, right? The joker, the one who always tried his best to cheer others up even if it was with sarcastic comments. The one who seemed the brightest was leaving certain darkness in everyone's hearts.

You never expected to see Tony sitting down against ruins as he tried to say his last words to the woman of his life. God, Morgan was just a child and she was back home, of course. Pepper would have to tell the little girl that her dad wouldn't be coming back. Ever.

Tony fought, he fought to stay in this world for a couple of minutes more. He had expressed his everlasting love to Pepper, telling her to remind Morgan of how much he loved her and how she was his salvation. Tony had hugged Peter, repeating over and over again that he believed in him. He was proud of the teenager. Parker would just cry while nodding his head. And then, Tony peeped at you. He wanted to offer you a smile, but the pain was too much for that. The Tony Stark legacy was yours too, and he had pleaded for you to teach Morgan everything you knew. Everything he had taught you.

And as soon as the last flick of life left his eyes, everyone was kneeling on the ground. Steve was beside you, clutching your hand tightly as you sobbed.

Tony Stark was the one who rescued you a couple of years ago. You were someone lost in life. Too young to have all of those horrible thoughts invading your mind. He had just decided to take you in and show you all the potential you had. That's when you started working alongside Tony and Bruce, after learning everything from them.

Before his funeral, you sat next to Pepper and Morgan as Tony had prepared a hologram. You had chuckled because Tony had to leave in a big way.

He looked so real. He looked as if he was sitting down on that chair. And sometimes, it seemed like he could actually look at all of you. Of course, all of this was just what it looked like.

"Then again, that's the hero gig, right?" His eyes seemed to shift from Pepper to you. "Part of the journey is the end." You felt Morgan getting closer to your body. "What am I even tripping for?" Your hand softly rested on her back as Tony got up from his seat. "Everything is gonna work out," He was standing in front of the three of you. "Exactly like it's supposed to." His eyes seemed to find the ones of the little girl. "I love you 3,000." Then, he just vanished, once again.

The day of the funeral was horrible, everyone cried because Tony Stark was deeply loved. Because everything that happened was proof that Tony Stark had a heart.

However, if we talked about the present, your heart ached as much as your legs. Your heart throbbed because Steve had left a letter on your door, letting you know that he was going to return the stones to the same moment where he got them. Steve was leaving. Perhaps not to come back.

And your legs ached because you were running to the only place where you knew he could be right now. In the distance, you could recognise Bruce, Sam and Bucky. The Captain was getting on the platform, his suit changing from the usual one to red and white. "Steve!" You continued running, not thinking you will arrive on time. Steve made a gesture, begging Bruce to continue with the process. "Steve! Please!" Tears started running down your cheeks.

"Going Quantum," Bruce informed. "Three,"

"Steve, I swear to god I will kill you!" You tried to run faster, but your legs gave up as you fell to the ground. "Steve Rogers, I swear to god!" You screamed once again, getting up and ignoring the mud stuck to your cheeks due to your tears.

"Two..." Sam and Bucky looked between the both of you. The Falcon was pained to see you in that situation as much as Bucky. Both of them were your friends. And both of them had noticed the longing gazes you directed towards their other friend.

"STEVE!" You were now closer to Bruce, quickly stopping the machine. "Don't you dare to turn it on." Your finger accusingly pointed at Banner, who nodded, a little frightened of how angry you were.

"Y/N," A firm voice sounded. "I need to get back and put these stones where they bel-."

"Who are you trying to lie to?" Your voice cracked. "You are going back to the past and you will not return." You shook your head. "And that's not fair on Sam because he had started to like you and he considers you his friend now, right?" I glanced at Sam, who bit his lower lip and nodded. "That's not fair on Bucky! He has always been there for you and you are just going to leave him? You can't just leave him, Steve!" Bucky sighed, glancing at the floor. "We just lost a lot of people we profoundly loved. It is unfair that you make us go through that once again because-."

"Breathe." He interrupted me. "This isn't my place anymore."

You yelled, trying to get rid of some of the anger invading your body. "You, Steve Rogers, are the biggest liar ever!" He furrowed his eyebrows, sighing and letting you go on. "You gotta move on," You repeated those words. The words he had told a group of people who were trying to get through the losses of the blip. "You gotta move on. The world is in our hands. It's left to us, guys. And we gotta do something with it." You were now sobbing harder. "O-otherwise..."

"I'm sorry," He whispered. "But, this life is no longer for me, Y/N." He glanced at Bruce, then back at you. "I wish I didn't have to do this."

"Nothing is making you go back!" You cried. "You can return the stones then come back to us and-." You gasped. "Steve, I know I'm selfish for saying this but please, don't go back to her-."

"Y/N," His voice was firmer this time. "I have nothing to do here, okay? Believe me. Yes, I will have to leave you all, but that's a price I must pay. You knew I always felt like this was not my world. Everything was always too strange for me." He sighed. "Don't get me wrong, I love you all. Especially, you. I love you. But I'm not the one you deserve." Tears fell down his cheeks. "Take care."

Before you could say anything more, he disappeared. You glanced at Bruce, glaring at him for listening to Steve and then, you got on the platform, screaming with all your strength. "That's for me to decide, Steve Rogers! That's for me to decide!" You recovered as soon as possible, running towards Bruce after noticing that Steve wasn't back yet. "Bring him! Bring him back!" Bucky walked closer to you, resting a hand on your shoulder as you continued crying. "How long until he comes back?"

Sam glanced at the other two men, sighing. "He isn't coming back." He coughed. His voice cracking. "Steve isn't coming back."

"He believes he isn't apt for this world." Before you could answer, Bucky interrupted you. "I know, it sounds stupid. But he truly felt like that." He shuffled closer to you. "He didn't go back to Peggy. Believe me."

"Then why?"

"Because he believed he wasn't enough for you." Sam stepped forward. "We tried to let him know that he was. But he said that he was never able to be there for you as much as he wanted to." He was always there. "He went back to safety. To the world, he knew. A world without," He glanced around. "All of this."

"A world without me." There was no reason to justify his actions, even if you wanted to. "So... this is all that's left."

"Not all." Bucky placed a tiny box on your hand. "He would probably kill me if he knew I gave you this. But I think you deserve to know. You deserve to...just...open it."

A ring. There was a ring with both of your names. A wedding ring.

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raendown · 3 years

Text

I return from the dead with a fic that isn't even for the Naruto fandom and I don't really have an explanation for myself.

Pairing: SamBucky Word count: 2317 Fandom: MCU Summary: Visiting Steve was always strange now that the guy was old and retired. Still, of all the things Sam expected out of today, witnessing a prime example of gay panic from the co-worker that's been mysteriously avoiding him was not one of them.

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

KO-FI and commission info under the header!

Honestly, the fact that Steve's house smelled like prunes was probably one of the funniest things that Sam had ever heard in his life. More than anything he would have loved to go back in time, to the days of reading about glorified heroes in history textbooks, and tell his fifteen year old self that Captain America, Steve Rogers, retired in a house that smelled like prunes. God, his best friend just had to throw himself in to being old the way he threw himself in to everything else.

"Is there a special reason for you visiting?" Steve's voice was more tremulous these days, less steady but no less warm. Just hearing him again after the shameful amount of weeks it had been since his last visit made Sam grin.

"Nah, just thought I'd pop in and see if you'd expired yet. Your birthday's coming up. Gonna be, what, three hundred? A thousand?"

Steve narrowed his eyes but there was fondness in them so it wasn't very scary even if he could probably still tackle Sam across the room if he wanted to. At this point it would hurt him too but he could do it. "You, young man, are-"

He looked chagrined at himself when Sam cut him off with a laugh.

"You shitting me? Did you really just call me young man? See if I ever let you live that down."

His friend grumbled but accepted the teasing as his due. That was just what he got for going back in time and doubling down on being so much older than his own best friends.

Since it had indeed been a little too long after they last saw each other there was quite a bit of catching up for them to do. Over cool glasses of sweet tea and a plate of cookies the two of them spent a pleasant couple of hours shooting the shit until Sam could almost forget the years that stretched between them now. It was jarring, sometimes, looking away from those clear blue eyes to realize all over again just how many wrinkles they were set in. Sometimes he hated it. Other times he could only smile to know that at least one of their ragtag bunch had found the peace they were looking for.

Eventually all that sweet tea went right to his bladder and Sam excused himself to use the bathroom. When he returned he took in the sight of his friend all snug under one of the blankets his late wife had knit and sighed, feeling maudlin suddenly for no good reason.

"I should probably get out of your hair," he said. "Let you get in your afternoon nap or whatever. No, stay there man, I'll clean up." His smile was easy as he snagged the dishes from their grazing and hauled it all over to the kitchen.

"You sure?" Steve's voice floated after him. "Nothing else you want to get off your chest?"

"Huh?"

Sam frowned at the cups he'd just placed in the sink, running back through his mind. They'd talked about pretty much everything he could think of.

"You didn't mention Buck once, you know. I thought the two of you were friends now."

"Ah. Yeah. So did I." The corners of his mouth twisted with a little bitterness, a little confusion. After everything they'd been through and the number of times Bucky had accepted his invitations down to Delacroix he'd thought they were well past the point of calling themselves friends. Maybe he himself felt something a little more than that but he knew better than to push.

That was probably why Bucky's sudden radio silence hurt so much though.

"Trouble in paradise?" Steve called from the other room and Sam snorted.

“Shit, I don’t know. One minute we’re fine and the next he just up and disappears on me again. I may or may not have checked a bunch of obituaries for your name just in case because I have no idea what I might have done to piss him off.” Sam pursed his lips. He’s already gone over all this with Sarah a half dozen times and in all the recounts he’d done of their last couple missions he still couldn’t find any particularly bad moment between him and his best friend. Unfortunately the sweet tea he was glaring at didn’t have any answers either so he snatched the pitcher up and moved to put it in the fridge.

“Have you tried, oh I don’t know, asking him what’s wrong?”

“You think I didn’t try that?”

Steve’s hum drifted down the hallway with a distinct note of sass. “Neither one of you is very famous for your communication.”

“Excuse you, I was a counselor. A certified veteran’s counselor. Communicating with people was literally my job until your overly buff ass came running around all ‘on your left’ and ‘everyone I know is trying to kill me’.” Sam huffed as he snapped the fridge closed. “I damn well tried to talk to him but he’s not answering my texts or my calls. Short of breaking in to his apartment I don’t really know what else you want me to do.”

Without any other excuses to keep him in the kitchen Sam heaved a sigh, knowing he couldn’t dawdle any longer. He could only get to the door by going though the living room so his choices were either run away out the back, which he would never ever hear the end of, or go back in to the living room and face Steve with his stupidly wise and knowing eyes. Seriously, let a guy live to almost two hundred and suddenly he thought he knew everything. Annoying was what it was.

He was only halfway down the hall when he heard the front door open. Sam very carefully swallowed down the jibe he’d just been about to deliver and hoped that meant what he thought it meant. Maybe Steve had finally gone vague after all and bailed in the middle of their conversation; he’d rather chase a crazy old coot down the street than talk about his feelings regarding one James Buchanan Barnes. Actually if he looked at it from the right angle then chasing an old coot down the street was pretty much his job description whenever he and his partner teamed up on missions. Sam was just glad they hadn’t been called in to one since this whole silent treatment had started because he wasn’t sure he wanted to know whether or not Bucky would still have his back even when the guy was mad at him over reasons unknown.

Two more steps and Sam froze in his tracks, eyes wide with disbelief. Bucky’s shoulders were hunched in to himself with something bridling on panic as he fit himself through the front door and kicked it shut behind himself, eyes wild and fixed on the ground between his feet, nervous energy pouring out of him in a way Sam hadn’t seen before. From his spot on the couch Steve watched his childhood friend let himself in with serene indifference.

“Didn’t know you’d be over today,” was all he said. Then he smiled benignly when Bucky let out a soft whine.

“Help,” Bucky pleaded. “I’m dying.”

Then Bucky slid down to his knees and face planted in the carpet, arms and legs splaying out wide. Steve hummed.

“You know,” he murmured, “no one ever believes me when I tell them you’re this dramatic.”

“Steve! I’m having a crisis!”

“I tell everyone you’re a drama queen and they just shake their heads at me.”

“This is important! You have to kill me, Steve. Or I’m gonna just- just-!” Bucky’s voice petered out with another extended whine muffled by the carpet that probably didn’t smell any better from that close up.

Crossing one leg over the other, Steve folded his hands in his lap with a great lack of concern for the ridiculous scene playing out before him. Sam remained frozen in the hallway, wondering if Bucky even realized he was there, but he got an answer to that almost faster than if he’d bothered to ask himself.

“What’s wrong, pal?”

“It’s Sam!” Bucky cried. His arms lifted up like wings to flail briefly before falling back to the floor in a boneless sprawl. “Please just crush my head or something. I can’t take this.”

“Ah, yes, I hear you’ve been avoiding him.”

Whatever kind of noise Bucky was trying to make, it came out sounding more like he was choking on carpet fumes. “Of course I’m avoiding him!”

“Now why on earth would you do that?”

“I want to stick my tongue in the gap between his teeth!” Bucky said, entirely unaware of the sparks that were suddenly running up Sam’s spine in the hallway. “Help me, Steve! I want to press my thumb in the little dimple on his back. He has a dimple on his back! Why!? Steve I want to hold his hand! What the fuck!”

Steve had both eyebrows up near his hairline and the most shit eating grin any human on the planet had ever worn when he turned his head to look at Sam. Frozen with his eyes on the figure currently panicking in to the floor, Sam paid him no attention. He was busy processing. After getting to know Bucky, inviting him to stay in Delacroix time and time again, the dramatics weren’t actually that much of a surprise. Obviously as they grew closer he’d gotten a number of glimpses in to who the real Bucky Barnes was under the grouchy veneer he presented to the world. Watching him starfish on the ground and whine wasn’t too far from what he’d already seen.

Hearing him say anything about his tongue in conjecture with Sam’s teeth, on the other hand, now that was a bit unexpected. More than a bit.

“I think Shuri called this ‘gay panic’ and honestly I’m in agreement,” Bucky went on mindlessly. “If I have to watch him go through one more workout and not grab his ass with both hands then I’m just going to rip both of them off. Who needs hands if I cannot grab Sam Wilson’s ass with them!?”

“You may be slightly exaggerating the situation, I feel,” Steve told him.

Bucky snorted. “I am not. I absolutely am not. Why is he so hot? And nice? I hate that. Except I don’t. Steve why is he so nice to me?”

“That might be a question you should ask him.”

“Oh yeah, sure, I’ve got lots of questions for him! Hey Sam, why are you nice to me? Hey Sam, can I lick your cheekbones? Hey Sam, how big is your cock?”

“Well. Not that I’ve ever thought to ask that myself but, alright. Go on, Sam, how big is it?”

Sam had just enough time to cross his arms over his chest and assume a very casual pose leaning against the wall beside him before Bucky’s head shot up off the carpet. If possible, his eyes were even more wild than before when he fixed them on Steve, full of the deepest betrayal. Then he very slowly dragged them sideways to see the man he’d just been panicking over. Sam gave him a very friendly smile.

“Depends on your frame of reference,” he admitted. “I’d say sizeable.”

“Nnnggggg.”

“Hi Buck.”

“Ggnnn.”

While Steve very poorly disguised a laugh behind one hand, Sam pushed off from the wall and sauntered further in to the living room. Bucky slammed his face back in to the carpet.

“Leave me here to die,” he pleaded in a very small voice. Sam tutted, reaching for the front door, only looking over his shoulder once he was halfway through it.

“Come on, Buck, can’t lick my cheekbones if you don’t get off the floor. It was a nice visit, Steve, but don’t be looking out your front curtains for a bit. I think I’ll let Bucky decide for himself what sizeable means.” He thanked god for the mercy of Steve’s house being situated out here so far from any other homes, surrounded on all sides by enough trees that you couldn’t see it from the road. A gorgeous little island of privacy. Sam was fairly sure he wasn’t the only one grateful for this, judging by the mad scrambling noises he could hear going on behind him.

Bucky’s voice garbled out something that sounded like ‘fuck you, thank you, bye forever’ and then Sam was listening to the slam of the front door barely a second before strong hands were wrapping themselves around his hips. He laughed even as Bucky’s face came in to view.

“Greatest assassin of several generations and you didn't notice my truck in the driveway?” he said.

“I may have been a bit distracted.” That was definitely a pout on Bucky’s lips.

“By being so hot for all of this”-Sam gestured vaguely down his own body-“that you literally ceased being able to function.”

He didn’t expect such easy agreement as the sheepish nod that followed his words. “Pretty much.”

Sam blinked slowly once, twice. For one long moment he considered teasing the man. Then he decided that their time was much better spent doing things they’d both obviously been wanting to do while assuming they would never get the chance.

“I was promised a tongue in my teeth. Are you gonna get to that any time soon or am I gonna sit here and pine some more for something I apparently could have had all along?”

Bucky keened piteously. Then he surged forward to follow through on his own promises and Sam really hoped that Steve had taken his words to heart about the curtains. The man was way too old to be seeing all the ways they were about to defile the side of this truck.

#rae writes #sambucky #winterfalcon #sam #bucky #steve #fanfiction #i'm not even really sorry either

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pies-writes-and-more · 4 years

Text

A French Kiss

Word Count: 7, 947

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader

Warnings: No warnings! Just some super cute fluff :)

A/N: Dedicating this work to the lovely @wxstedhexrt!!!! Ps. Destiny if you thought i wasn’t going to dedicate this fic to you, you’re crazy lol. Thank you so much for being such a cute part of my writing process😉😘

(Not my gfif, creds to the original creator!!)

Y/N held her phone tightly to her chest, eyes scanning the crowd. Too old. Too young. Eh, maybe? Not that one. Maybe that one? Shit no, has a girlfriend. Has kids. Ugh.

“You’re not actually going to do this are you?” Wanda asked, taking a sip from the iced coffee she had bought earlier. She watched as her friend nervously shifted her weight, staring at different men who were around them.

“Of course I am. I need to do this.” Y/N’s hands were shaking a little. Here she was, at an amazing photo opportunity in front of the Eiffel Tower, and she wasn’t even looking at it. She could only imagine how stupid she looked to everyone else.

Nat sighed from her spot on the ground. She had known this was going to take a while so she had laid out her rain jacket on the ground and sat down, absentmindedly scrolling through her phone. “Just pick someone. Anyone.”

“I can’t just pick, Natasha,” Y/N huffed, hands on her hips as she turned to look at her friend. “I need someone who is far better looking than Jake could ever dream to be. Not to mention I need to make sure he’s not married or with his family or with his girlfriend because I can’t imagine how awkward that would be-”

“What about him?” Wanda spoke up, nodding forward.

Y/N followed her gaze to a group of guys gathered around a nearby bench, laughing and smiling together. Y/N couldn’t be sure which guy Wanda was referring to but her eyes immediately fell on the blond guy who was writing? maybe sketching? into a small notebook. They were loud enough for Y/N to catch glimpses of their conversation, making a small smile pull at her lips.

“God this is going to take forever. Why didn’t you just take a photo?” The long dark-haired one whined, popping a snack into his mouth.

“The more you whine, the longer I’m going to take,” Y/N heard the blond say. She bit her lip, finally turning to Wanda and shaking her head.

“No way, he’s busy.” Y/N tried to seem casual, as if this wasn’t the first guy that she felt like she was drooling over. He had such a great physique, and that quiet concentrated look on her face made her swoon. What kind of guy like that would be single anyways?

“Oh come on, what you’re asking for takes like two seconds. Just go ask!” Wanda insisted but Y/N just made whining noises in response.

“God, no. I can’t do this. This is too embarrassing. Forget this. Forget Jake. Let’s just take a group photo and get this over with.” Y/N fumbled with her phone quickly, getting ready to just take a selfie with her girls.

“Nuh uh. I did not just get comfortable here on this foreign floor for you to chicken out of what you’ve been planning on doing the whole trip here.” Nat insisted, sighing but getting up anyways. Instead of posing for the selfie, she grabbed her things off the ground and then tightly wound her fingers around Y/N’s wrist, dragging her over to the group of guys.

“Hi there! I’m Wanda, this is Nat and Y/N!” Wanda spoke up to them first, having skipped along Nat and Y/N (who was still protesting and pulling at Nat’s strong grip).

The guys stared at the girls for a moment, all three of them sharing a look before looking back at them. “Hey there. I’m Sam. That’s Bucky and Steve,” the one guy grinned, nodding towards his friends. His smile was lined with amusement, obviously trying to not laugh at how distressed Y/N looked. “You being kidnapped or something?”

“Please, if they wanted to kidnap me, no one would’ve noticed.” Y/N huffed but gave him a sheepish smile.

“What can we do for you, ladies?” The long dark-haired one, whom Sam introduced as Bucky, asked. His smile was sort of cocky looking, very cheeky, Y/N noticed. She tried to look anywhere but at the blond, who seemed to be eyeing her.

Nat nudged Y/N forward, raising an eyebrow at her like she was saying Go ahead. “Um.” Y/N bit down on her lip, glancing back at the Eiffel Tower. Maybe she could lie. Maybe she could just ask them to take a picture of her and the girls and it would be over lickety-split.

“Y/N needs to be kissed.” Nat stated simply, noting the hesitation in her friend. The bluntness in her tone shocked everyone but Wanda who just snickered beside her.

“Nat!” Y/N whined, eyes going wide as she glared at her friend. “That’s not- that’s not the whole story! You… It sounds weird if you say it like that!”

“Well then, you tell them the story.” Nat shrugged. She placed her jacket back down on the ground, sitting back down and looking up at her friend, as if becoming part of the audience for the story she knew all too well.

Y/N sigh and closed her eyes for a moment, wishing she could just disappear. “Uh.” Her eyes opened and they immediately locked onto Steve’s beautiful blue eyes. God he was gorgeous. A guy like that would make Jake insanely jealous. “I got… I got dumped by my boyfriend a few weeks ago.” She started, immediately realizing how pitiful that sounded.

“Actually, you dumped him. He cheated on you.” Wanda interjected as she squeezed onto the bench beside Steve. She gave him a smile as he shifted to make room for her. “But continue.”

All of the guys gave her empathetic smiles, but stayed quiet as if to urge her to keep going. Y/N wished her life wasn’t as tragic as this story sounded.

“Fine. Jake cheated on me. With a girl he’d been friends with for a while. But that’s besides the point. Kinda. I mean it’s the whole point of why we’re here and asking but it’s still besides the point,” she rambled nervously. Wanda rolled her eyes and stretched out her leg, kicking the girl in her shin and making her yelp. “Hey!”

“Come on girl, get to the point. I’m sure these guys have other things they need to do today.” Wanda teased, making Nat snicker.

“No no, please continue. If it leads up to a kiss, I’d much rather hear the full story,” Bucky grinned, making Y/N’s face feel hot. He gave her a playful wink and Steve reached over to hit him over the head.

“Let her finish her story, Buck,” Steve glared, looking back at her with a small smile.

Y/N smiled back nervously, chewing on the inside of her cheek, “W-Well. I just… Paris was supposed to be the place that me and my ex were going to go. We always talked about it. So now that I’m here…” her voice drifted for a bit and she glanced back at the Tower once more.

“Ooooh.” Sam chuckled, his dark brown eyes sparkling as he put two and two together. “You’re looking to make that son of a bitch jealous. Find a cute guy to take a picture with in front of the Eiffel Tower, make him regret what he did to you, amiright?”

Y/N blushed further but nodded. He had hit the nail right on its head.

“Honestly, you probably could’ve just asked us to kiss you and we would’ve said yes,” Bucky laughed, clapping a hand onto the shoulder of the blond guy, who Y/N noticed seemed to have tucked his notebook away. “Except for Steve here. He’s a proper old school gentleman.”

“Buck,” Steve groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose slightly. “Can you go like five seconds without embarrassing me?”

“Normally? Yes. But when there’s cute girls involved, it’s hard.” Bucky chuckled and turned to Y/N, “Well sorry your ex was an asshole. But on the plus side, you’ve got your pick of us three. Any of us you’d prefer?”

Y/N wanted nothing more but to faint. Here she was, actually doing the thing she wanted to do, with insanely handsome men who actually wanted to help, but it was all too much. She was overwhelmed with anxiety, her heart was pumping so fast she wasn’t sure she could actually form a complete sentence. It would be mortifying to say that she was already falling for Steve, even though she literally just met him.

“Cool it, Bucky, you’re making the poor girl sweat,” Sam smacked Bucky’s arm, who just turned to smack him back. “Just let her breathe, sheesh.”

Y/N’s eyes flickered over to Steve, who also seemed to be blushing a little. She wasn’t sure why. Maybe he was just embarrassed over his friends? Y/N could relate to that.

“Actually, Y/N’s got a think for blonds!” Nat piped up, only looking up from her phone to smirk at her friend.

“Oh that’s rightttt. Especially when they’re artists. You were sketching a little earlier, weren’t you? Steve, was it?” Wanda asked, nudging Steve slightly. She wiggled her eyebrows at him making both Y/N and Steve squirm shyly.

That’s it. Y/N was surely going to die. She looked up to the sky momentarily, wondering if Zeus would smite her just to help a girl out.

“Ooooh well lucky for you, our blond artist is a hopeless romantic still looking for love,” Sam chuckled. “He’s the complete package, so please take him so we don’t have to.”

Steve shot him a glare, moving his gaze back to Y/N and giving her that same sweet empathetic smile. She felt her stomach flip a little, quickly staring at the floor instead. God, if she couldn’t even look at him without feeling butterflies, would she really be able to kiss him?

“Okay enough eye fucking, you two.” Nat spoke up casually. “Wanda, go take their photo before they end up having babies.”

“Nat!” Y/N was going to kill her for that later but Nat, Wanda, and Steve’s friends laughed it away. Steve blushed a little more, standing up and brushing off the eraser dust from his pants. Y/N couldn’t help but feel small next to him. Not because of his height, but he just had this aura. A strong, protective aura.

He took her hand gently and Y/N bit her lip at the feeling of his callouses. Her mind went to all sorts of places, wondering how such a gentle man had such a hard outer shell. “We really don’t have to. I don’t want you to feel like you have to do this. It’s a really stupid idea anyways, I don’t even know if he’ll see it.” She rambled nervously as the two of them walked to a good picture spot, Wanda and the others behind them.

“He’ll see it.” Steve stated firmly with a smile to her. “If I lost a girl like you, I’d be checking all your social media to see if you missed me too.”

Y/N’s cheeks flushed again, staring at the ground nervously, “Yeah well, I can’t be all that great if he found someone else while he was with me.”

Wanda positioned them in a spot with good lighting, Steve turning to face Y/N as Wanda got her camera ready, “You ever been to an art museum? And some asshole just blows right by a piece of art, acting like there isn’t emotions poured into it, like there isn’t something deeper in it? Sometimes art isn’t appreciated the way it should be. Just gotta find that one guy who’s going to be speechless every time he sees you.”

Y/N looked up at him with wide eyes. How did this man go from blushing, awkward, and quiet to smooth and flirty? She couldn’t help but giggle as she raised an eyebrow, “You always talk like this? Or is it just the influence of the City of Love?” She teased, feeling a sudden ease in talking to him. He felt so comfortable now, when it was just the two of them a little ways away from their playful friends.

“I dunno, doll. I’m in a city filled with some of the greatest pieces of art, and right now I’d much rather be here. Looking at you.” He teased back with a smirk. He saw her face glow a little more and he reached out to brush her hair from her eyes.

Although Y/N’s face felt hot, a cool breeze pushed past. She pulled her arms to her chest, rubbing her arms gently, “Are you just saying all these because you pity me?” She asked with a small smile. “I’m okay you know. About the whole… getting cheated on ex boyfriend thing.”

Steve watched her for a moment and stepped back a little to pull his blue sweater over his head. Y/N tried not to let her eyes stare but it was hard not to notice the muscles hiding under his white undershirt as he stripped. “Here. You must be cold.”

Y/N flushed a little, stammering out some sounds as he helped her ease the large sweater over her head.

“And no. I’m not lying about all this. You really are beautiful, Y/N,” he leaned forward, whispering it into her ear. “I’m sorry that jackass hurt you… but I can’t say I’m all that sorry that I’m standing here with the opportunity to kiss you.” Steve’s fingers found their way under her chin, tilting it up gently.

Y/N almost forgot what they were doing here. Her brain suddenly went, Jake who?She already felt like she was hyperventilating with Steve’s poetry-like words and chick-flick worthy speech. The moment Steve’s lips touched hers, her whole mind melted. His lips were soft and Y/N couldn’t help but smile at the comparison to his rough hands. All the love songs, the poems, the movies… they all talked about that one kiss and suddenly, they all made sense. After a moment, Steve pulled away slightly but Y/N quickly filled the gap, grabbing a fistful of his shirt and pulling him back.

When the fogginess of her mind disappeared and the two of them finally took a turn to breathe, their eyes locked momentarily. Y/N could’ve sworn she heard a “wow” escape from Steve’s lips.

Whoops and hollers from their friends were quickly becoming louder as the two of them returned to Earth from their makeout high.

“Damn Steve, you kiss all girls like that?” Wanda teased, having snapped numerous photos of the kiss, not to mention a ton of the cute interaction that happened before. She and Nat shared a laugh, knowing Y/N was going to love the cute picture of Steve stripping next to the picture of her standing in his sweater.

“What girls?” Sam snickered, him and Bucky high-fiving. “Steve’s a completely mess around most girls.”

Steve let out a groan as he shot a death glare to Sam. “Can you… I’m trying to be… ugh!” He huffed, flustered with both embarrassment and frustration, especially as he heard Y/N giggling next to him. Here he was, overwhelmed with endorphins from having kissed the prettiest girl he’s ever seen, and his friends can’t stop making him out to be an anxious nervous wreck. He was an anxious nervous wreck around girls but this girl didn’t have to know that!

The four friends laughed nearby as they all got to know each other a little more, teasing the slightly awkward ‘couple’ as they stood there, unsure of what to do now.

“Y-You don’t have a girlfriend or anything to get back to do you?” Y/N asked as she blinked at him, realizing she hadn’t even asked him before.

Steve shook his head quickly, cheeks turning pink as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Naw, I haven’t had much luck in the love department for a while.” He admitted, mentally slapping himself as the words left his lips. Why is he telling her this??? He had been so careful in choosing his words before, wanting to make the whole interaction feel as romantic as possible. After all, this girl deserved to be swooned.

Y/N couldn’t help but smile at how nervous he seemed. Before he kissed her, he was all smooth and suave, but he also seemed so soft and awkward.

Right now, Steve was looking like he was battling a war in his head. He shifted on his feet, watching her nervously, “Was… was it okay?” He blurted out, biting down on his lip as he watched her expression. “The kiss, I mean?”

Y/N wasn’t sure what to tell him. How could she put into words the way that his lips literally made her feel like she was floating? How could she tell this man, a man she would probably never see again, that he was like a drug and she was already addicted? Here he was, a stranger, and Y/N was falling in fucking love with him when she had only done this to get back at her stupid ex boyfriend?

“I-It was…” She hesitated, looking for a good word. “Perfect.” The word slipped from Y/N’s lips faster than she could comprehend it. The two of them shared another blush, an awkward silence falling on them.

“Hey Rogers, if you’re done fonduing, we gotta meet with Tony and Rhodey! Got that dinner reservation Tony’s been talking about!” Bucky yelled over. Steve’s heart fell a little and he looked over at Y/N, only to find the same slight downcast expression on her face.

“Thank you… for your help,” she smiled up at him. Steve tried to capture the image in his mine, the sight of her smile, gleaming in the sun behind them. This was the sight Steve wanted to die looking at.

“A-Anytime,” he quickly stammered, realizing that he was staring at her.

“Steve!” Bucky yelled again, glancing between his friend and the watch on his wrist. “If we’re late, Tony’s gonna kill us!”

Steve groaned a little, rolling his eyes at the sound of his best friend. “I should go.” He sighed, looking at her just once more. He leaned over and brushed her hair from her face, bending over to plant a gentle kiss on her cheek. “Have a great time in Paris, doll.” He murmured to her before rushing over to Bucky’s side.

The boys left, Sam and Bucky teasing him endlessly and loudly, drawing the attention of many people nearby. Y/N’s cheeks were still flushed as she slowly walked over to her friends, their grins as wide as their faces.

“Soooo. Steveeee.” Wanda sang with a giggle. “He’s much cuter than Jake.”

“He’s much cuter than any guy you’ve dated,” Nat corrected with a smirk. “You’re welcome. When you guys get married, I hope that you’ll thank me in your wedding vows.”

Y/N rolled her eyes with a smile, shaking her head. “I’m never going to see him again, you goose.”

Wanda and Nat’s wide eyes made Y/N feel like she had grown a second head. “W-What?” She frowned, feeling a little self-conscious with them looking at her.

“Um hello? You just shared the hottest kiss with a man in the most romantic spot in the world and you’re not planning on seeing him again?” Wanda asked, hands on her hips.

“How would I?” Y/N frowned slightly, giving a shrug.

Nat stared at her exasperatedly, “You didn’t give him your number?! What about your instagram? So he could be tagged in the photos?”

Y/N shrugged again, blushing now as she realized how much she now wanted to give him that info. “He didn’t ask for it,” she gave as an excuse, only worsening her slight pain. Her mind wondered for a moment about why... why hadn’t he asked for it?

“Wait, but you’re still wearing his sweater,” Wanda gaped, eyes wide.

Y/N’s eyes widened as she looked down to indeed find his blue sweater fitted on her body. “Shit!” She screeched, running towards the direction the boys had headed. Her eyes darted between groups, trying to find a sign of either one of the boys she had met. But she had no clue where they were headed, she didn’t even know what restaurant they were going to.

“Fuck...” she mumbled. A little piece of hope that had flickered in her heart died, realizing that she had lost her chance to connect with the one guy who made all the love songs make sense.

Y/N wore the sweater all night long, admittedly because she loved the smell of him on it. She could feel her heart grow a little, her chest tighten, her lips tingle, ever time she inhaled it again. God he smelled so good. But she also wore the sweater because she had hoped that whilst they were roaming around Paris’ nightlife, he would see her.

“Aw baby girl, chin up,” Wanda cooed gently, touching her arm as they got back to their hotel room. “Maybe you’ll see him again!”

“Where?” Y/N moped, sitting on her bed. “I had my chance and I totally messed it up.”

Nat and Wanda tried to stay positive for her but they all knew the chances of running into the boys again were slim. Y/N kicked herself mentally as she started getting dressed for bed for not at least asking him where he was from. Sure, he had an American accent but there was 50 states! What if he was Canadian? American and Canadian accents weren’t all that different were they? That means 50 states PLUS 13 provinces/territories in Canada… The thought pulled a sigh from Y/N’s lips. Even if she did manage to find him, there was no telling he’d actually want to see her again.

Y/N folded up the sweater gently, sighing as she pressed it flat into her suitcase. But as she did, her hand pushed against something harder than a bunch of fabric should be. Curious, Y/N reached into the large sweater pocket and pulled out a small notebook. Her eyes widened as she realized it was the booklet that Steve had been sketching in earlier.

Great, not only did I steal this man’s sweater, I stole his art too, Y/N thought to herself. She bit her lip as she sat down on the floor, carefully opening up the notebook, as if it might break if she were too harsh with it.

The first page made her laugh a little. It was Bucky and Sam, fast asleep on airport seats, both with their arms crossed and Sam’s mouth open a little. Y/N was surprised at just how much detail went into such a small drawing. No line was without purpose.

The next few pages looked like they were what Steve had seen out of the plane’s window, most of them having the wing in the centre and small clouds flickering around.

She thumbed through the drawings, loving each and every one of them more and more. Landscapes filled pages and Y/N felt herself get excited when she found something she recognized. It was like a little memory book of the places the boys had all gone together. She noticed two more figures in most of the drawings, figuring these were the other two that the boys were meeting up with when they left. Throughout all these drawings, at the bottom, there was Steve’s signature. In scribbled lines, she could make out S. G. Rogers. She let her thumb glide over for a moment, as if she was missing someone she knew well. She couldn’t help but laugh at herself, knowing she literally met him for not even an hour.

Y/N shook the thoughts from her head as she flipped to the next drawing. Her eyes blinked for a moment, taking in the beautiful sight of the Eiffel Tower that she had see earlier that day. He really was a talented artist, Y/N noted. Even in just sheer pencil, she could see details she probably missed in her momentary glimpses at the tourist site.

“What’s that?” Nat’s sudden voice made Y/N jump, realizing Nat had just come out of the bathroom.

“Uh Steve’s drawings… It was in the sweater.” Y/N explained shyly, handing over the book.

“Oooh more about Steve?” Wanda gasped, hopping over immediately. “Oh wow, he really is an artist huh?” She grinned, flipping through the pictures.

“So now you stole his artwork too huh?” Nat teased, making Y/N pout.

“Stop! Don’t say that! It wasn’t my fault!” Y/N huffed, hugging her knees to her chest. She couldn’t help but feel a little happy that she had his notebook and sweater. It would convince her that all of this actually had been real, and not a dream, like it was starting to feel like.

----------

Steve hadn’t even realized he was missing his sweater until after dinner. The group of guys had sat back in their chairs a little, sighing at what was a great meal when Steve noticed Bucky giving him a weird look. “What’s wrong? Got something on my face?” Steve asked, nudging his friend.

“No… something’s just different.” Bucky tilted his head slightly. His eyes squinted slightly, opening again slowly as he said, “Weren’t you wearing a sweater earlier?”

Steve’s eyes could’ve popped out of his head. He immediately stood up from the table, staring out the window in the direction that he had met Y/N and the other girls. He had only meant to give her the sweater for a moment, while they were taking pictures and talking. She seemed cold, how could he not? (His mother would’ve killed him if he hadn’t… not to mention he really liked seeing her in his clothes). How had he completely forgotten to get it back?

“I bet I know where it is,” Sam snickered as he watched the confusion on Steve’s face.

“Where?” Tony asked, looking between the three.

Rhodey rolled his eyes, “Tony, catch up. There was a girl. He kissed the girl-”

“-And being the ever so lovely gentleman we know and love Steve Rogers to be, he gave her his sweater,” Sam finished with a laugh, shaking his head. “Didn’t have your wallet in there did it? Any other important things?”

Steve shook his head, glad to feel the wallet-sized lump in his jeans pocket. “No… but my sketch book…”

“Not like you can’t just draw some more,” Rhodey shrugged and grinned up at him.

“Yeah but I was hoping to bring it all back and use it for my paintings,” Steve frowned tightly, looking at the boys who had met Y/N with him. “You don’t think she’s still around there do you?”

“Come on, Steve, it’s been hours! You can’t honestly think the girl waited around for you. Just give her a text or something.” Bucky’s amused smile on his face froze as he saw the blush appearing on Steve’s face. “…You did get her number or something didn’t you? I mean, that’s the most tongue-tied I’ve seen you with a girl in a long time!”

“Oh so there was tongue. Talk about a true French Kiss,” Tony snickered, making the other boys laugh and Steve feel like he could die.

“No, Tony, there was no tongue,” Steve rolled his eyes, sitting back down slowly crossing his arms over his chest. “I… I might’ve forgotten to ask for her number…” Steve muttered, knowing exactly what was coming.

“Steve!” Sam and Bucky both yelled, both swatting at his arms from either side of him.

“How could you forget?” Sam groaned, shaking his head. “Just like you to get all flustered over a girl, and have her get all flustered over you, just for you to completely forget to make sure she could get in contact with you!”

Steve looked up, his eyes suddenly beaming with hope instead of shame, “She was getting flustered over me?” He asked curiously, letting out a groan when both Sam and Bucky swatted at his arms again.

“Idiot,” Bucky shook his head devastatingly but he smiled anyways. He wanted to let Steve mope a little more, as a consequence for being an idiot, and then later, maybe he’d show him the pictures that he and Sam had taken of Steve and Y/N.

_______

Why Natasha and Wanda were dragging Y/N out on a Friday night, she had no clue. Normally, if they were going to go out on a Friday, it would be to a club. Not to some place that had a black tie dress code.

Y/N tugged on her dress slightly, feeling a bit uncomfortable all dressed up and not understanding where they were going. “Can someone please-” she started, but the two stern looks she got back from Nat and Wanda shut her up quick.

“If you ask one more time where we’re going, I’m going to knock you out. I really don’t want you to be unconscious when we get there, but don’t tempt me, Y/N,” Nat threatened with a playful smirk on her face. “Just be patient. You look fucking hot, you’ll love it.”

Y/N sighed and slunk back into the Uber seat, tapping her fingers on her knee. Here she was, hair perfectly set around her face, body fitted into a black evening gown, a touch of makeup done… she was picture perfect. But Y/N couldn’t figure out why. Wasn’t her birthday, wasn’t any sort of important date…

Y/N stared out the window as she tried to consider all the possibilities. This seemed to be the biggest event since their trip to Paris about a month ago. The small memory of Paris made her smile, thinking about all the fun the girls had had together, and of course… Steve. She hadn’t really thought about him for a while. She spent the days back home looking for a Steve Rogers online, but it was such a common name, she knew she was bound to never find him.

His sweater sat in her dresser, waiting for the day that maybe she would meet him again and he could take it back. But one month later and no such luck.

Nat and Wanda shared a look as they watched their best friend fade into her daydreaming state. They giggled together quietly, Wanda nudging her slightly. “You’re sure you’ve got the tickets?” She murmured softly and Nat nodded in response.

“Just have your camera ready. I want to capture the moment.” Nat reminded her and Wanda agreed, slipping her phone out of her small purse.

Y/N stared at the building the Uber driver pulled up to. The bright lights at the entrance made it look so regal, like it was some event that major celebrities were going to be attending. As the girls stepped out of the car, Y/N silently thanked both of them for not letting her come in the casual dress she had originally picked out for herself. Her eyes caught sight of the gorgeous evening and cocktail gowns that other women were wearing, the sleek and smooth looks of bowties and suits on the men.

Y/N almost forgot that they were here to attend whatever this was, standing completely frozen from where the car had once been.

“Come on!” Wanda laughed, grabbing her hand. “It’s an art show!”

Y/N blinked in surprise, looking at her friends with a confused look on her face. Neither one of them had really shown any interest in art before… so why were they here?

“Tickets ma’am?” The man at the front asked with a smile. Nat started to open her purse but the man held up his hand. “Oh! Sorry, I didn’t realize you had a muse with you. Go right in, ladies.”

The girls looked at him and then at each other. Not wanting to hold up the line that was growing behind them, they started to walk in and Y/N raised an eyebrow, “Muse?”

Nat shrugged, pushing the tickets back in her purse. “Well damn, if I had known, I wouldn’t have bought these super expensive tickets,” she muttered to herself, making Wanda laugh. “What do you think he meant?”

“Um hello, you guys were the ones that dragged me down here, how should I know?” Y/N looked around as the three of them stood in the front halls of the museum. She wasn’t quite sure where they were supposed to go so she started to walk, so she started to follow a few people in front of her.

The decorations were stunning. Everything was black and white, so the colours on the mediums shot off the walls. People were walking around with trays of small horderves and other trays of champagne glasses. The girls each grabbed a glass, smiling at each other as they clicked the glasses together and took a sip. As the three of them continued to walk around, Y/N could’ve sworn that people were whispering as they passed, gawking at them.

“Is it… a private show?” Y/N whispered harshly to her friends as she noticed someone sneak a photo of them.

Nat’s eyebrows furrowed, noting the commotion she and the girls seemed to be making, and she shook her head, “No, it was a public event.”

“Ma’am, do you think I could take your photo?” A man asked with a smile, holding up his camera and press pass. “I’m doing a story on the artwork.”

Y/N had to look around for a moment, making sure that he was actually talking to her. “Sorry, I’m not… I don’t have a connection to this artwork?” She stated confusedly, stepping away and further into the exhibits with the girls.

“What the hell was that about?” Wanda mumbled, glancing back to see the man looking equally as confused.

Most of the people seemed to be in the on main section of the museum, whispers and murmurs filling the room. As Y/N and the girls walked in to see what everyone else was looking at, they were greeted with flashes of light. People with cameras yelling questions at them about how they felt about the exhibition and if she liked the pieces.

“Sorry I- I have no clue what you’re talking about-” Y/N tried to tell them, holding her hands up to protect her eyes from the multitude of flashes.

“I think I know.” Y/N turned to look at what Wanda was talking about, her jaw dropping for a moment.

There. In the middle of the room. On a large canvas, was her face.

Y/N had to take a moment, staring at the painting as if she were going to wake up from a dream any moment now. “N-Nat, what is this?” She looked over to her friend who seemed just as confused as she was.

“I didn’t think… I only saw his name,” Nat explained, her eyes wandering around.

“Whose name?” Y/N asked exasperatedly, her chest feeling tight. This room was suddenly feeling very small as she looked around. Everything else was of a landscape, gorgeous paintings of green landscapes, orange sunsets, beautiful cafe atmospheres… but this one painting was of her.

“What’s your relationship with the artist, miss?” A woman asked, holding up a voice recorder to Y/N’s face.

“S-Sorry?”

“The artist, miss. S. G. Rogers, what’s it like knowing that after being mostly known for landscapes, and other art that never has a specific muse, his new most talked about piece is the one featuring you?” The woman asked again and Y/N felt her whole body freeze.

S. G. Rogers.

Y/N stammered out an apology, rushing over to the nearest corner where the press weren’t, needing to breathe. Nat and Wanda moved with her, shooting glares at the reporters, as if daring them to follow.

She tried to focus her breathing, feeling all too overwhelmed with everything that was happening. Reporters’ voices started raising again, yelling loud questions again and Y/N winced, thinking they were coming back for more. Her eyes moved to the direction of the flashes, the sounds of the reporters, only to find a blond man standing with his back to her. He seemed awkward in front of all of them, attempting to answer questions and pose for pictures, though he didn’t really seem to want any.

“Can we get a picture of you and your muse?” A reporter asked out and all the others quieted, eagerly nodding.

The man held up an apologetic hand, moving it to rub the back of his neck, “S-She and I… well she’s not here.” He explained and more murmurs arose from the crowd.

“Isn’t that her? Standing right there?” Another reported yelped, pointing in Y/N’s direction.

She felt like a deer in headlights, the way that everyone seemed to turn on her. The man turned and sure enough… there was S. G. Rogers.

“Steve.” Y/N felt her lips breathe out, her eyes locking to those baby blue eyes.

“Surprise,” came weakly from Nat’s lips, who suddenly appeared next to Y/N. “This definitely wasn’t how I planned on it going though,” Y/N heard her mumble.

Y/N felt her brain tear into pieces over the next few seconds as she tried to make a decision. Part of her wanted to run. Run out of the museum and into fresh air, maybe that would make it easier to breathe. But she couldn’t help but think about how embarrassing that would be, for her to run and probably trip over her long dress and heels. The other part of her wanted to jump him, feel that ripple of sensations down her spine again like the last time he kissed her. Another part of her was confused and wanted to demand answers from him. Answers about why he hadn’t asked for her number if he was going to just paint her anyways!

“My lovely reporters, if you could all just take a step back for a moment. I think the lady needs a moment to breathe. You all can be very overwhelming as I’m sure you know. But I’m certain that once she has a chance to catch her surprise, perhaps Mr. Rogers and his muse will be able to stand for a few pictures later. Please, help yourself to the champagne and the food, they’re delicious-” a man spoke up, holding up a few pieces of food in his hand and plopping them into his mouth. Y/N recognized him vaguely and her mind connected his face to the simple sketches that had been in Steve’s Paris notebook.

The crowd dispersed, some hanging around close enough, as if waiting for more action between the two.

“Y/N?” Steve and the girl had barely stopped staring at each other, but the distance between them was still far. Y/N noticed Bucky walking over, as if casually walking across the room. But as he got to just behind Steve, he pushed him forward, sending Steve into a fumbling mess towards Y/N.

“S-Sorry!” Steve yelped out as he tripped over his feet, bumping into her slightly. He shot a glare at Bucky over his shoulder as he tried to compose himself but his gaze softened as it resumed on her. “Y-You’re here! How… How did you...” His cheeks were burning red. “How’re you here? How’d you find me?” He finally managed out, his hand reaching forward for hers but stopped, as if he thought better of his actions and pulled it back.

“I think Nat can answer that!” Wanda grinned from behind Y/N. “Sorry, we definitely weren’t expecting for you to have painted her and set her right in the middle of your exhibit, we probably would’ve prepped her for it if we had known-”

“We definitely would’ve prepped her,” Nat interjected with a guilty smile. “Sorry, Y/N.”

Y/N couldn’t find her voice as she studied his face. He looked the same as he did a month ago, that gorgeous nervous smile, his blond hair perfectly shaping those stunning blue eyes. She could feel her heart pounding out of her chest and was almost certain she was going to sweat all her makeup off.

“My notebook,” Steve guessed after a moment, giving the girls a small smile. He turned to Y/N with an apologetic look, “I’m sorry, I should’ve… I should’ve asked for your number or something. My mom was so upset with me that I just kissed you and left,” he admitted with a chuckle.

“You… told your mom?” Y/N squeaked out, making his cheeks turn a redder shade.

“I-I mean, I didn’t… I wasn’t going to but Bucky just blurted it out and then my mom just wanted to know more and you know, Bucky, he just keeps talking and-” Steve swallowed hard, pressing his lips together tightly as if trying to shut himself up. He looked over at Nat desperately, begging for her to start talking so he didn’t have to.

“Yes the notebook,” Nat clarified for him, smirking. “You left Y/N so lovesick she carried it around with her for a few weeks-”

“Nat!” Y/N whined, looking at her impossibly. “Really? Now? You want to embarrass me now?”

Nat laughed and patted her friend’s head, “Sorry sorry. Anyways, we saw your signature and Wanda pointed out that if you were this good at sketching, you must’ve gotten your training from somewhere. So we went looking for an S. G. Rogers and sure enough, we found that you were a part of a New Upcoming Artists Exhibit and we thought it would be a cute way for you to meet back up again.”

Cute was definitely not the words that Y/N would describe it. She was panicking inside, overthinking every single detail of what had led up to this night. She had spent the last few weeks thinking that Steve probably hadn’t wanted to get to know her anyways, or else he would’ve asked for her number or something. But here he was, telling her he should’ve and… his main piece of his exhibit was a painting of her. How was she supposed to take this? She hadn’t seen any other paintings of girls… was she the only one? What was that supposed to mean?

Wanda reached out and nudged Y/N’s shoulder, “Well you two should talk. Nat, why don’t we go and look at the rest of the exhibits?”

“Sounds brilliant,” Nat grinned and the two linked arms, giving little waves to Y/N as they disappeared.

Steve and Y/N looked at each other, both obviously unsure of what they should say. Y/N let her eyes drift to the painting in question, unable to help the blush growing on her cheeks as she admired it. Steve had painted her standing there with a bright smile on her face, as if she was smiling at the person looking at the painting. You could see the bottom of the Eiffel Tower behind her and Y/N blushed, realizing that she had taken the main spot of the artwork, rather than the Eiffel Tower like in his sketch.

“I know it must seem so creepy-” Steve stammered out nervously, clearly kicking himself for having it up as the centre of his exhibit. “I just… it was one of the few artworks that really evoked something in me and I just couldn’t let it sit in my room gathering dust-”

“It’s gorgeous, Steve,” Y/N told him with a smile. She looked up at him and almost regretted it, seeing those blue eyes again. He was so handsome and it certainly wasn’t helping that he seemed to fill out his tux so well. “You made me look really pretty.”

“I was only painting what I see, doll,” Steve chuckled. “While Wanda and Nat were taking pictures of us on their phones, Bucky and Sam had snapped a couple from theirs. I’ve been staring at them nonstop,” he admitted sheepishly. “You were all I could think about when I got back.”

Y/N was almost positive she was dreaming. She had dreamed about Steve before, sure, and he was usually doing this whole confessing attraction thing, so this had to be a dream right? She moved her hand to her arm, pinching it gently and wincing. Her eyes looked back up at him and she bit down hard on her lip. Not a dream.

“By the way,” Steve started, taking one of her hands and holding her at an arm’s length, “You look… like a work of art.”

Y/N wondered if he knew her whole body was heating up as his eyes examined the way the dress hugged her body. “S-Stop staring,” she swatted at him quickly, blushing. “We’re here to look at your art, not me.”

“I’d much rather look at you,” Steve laughed but led her for a closer view of his centrepiece of art. Y/N got so entrapped looking at it, she almost forgot the lurking press. “I’m sorry about them, by the way,” Steve leaned in and murmured to her. “Tony’s a part of a really wealthy family and his family are really into art… they’ve been really supportive of me and my works so they thought some reporters would help get my name out there.”

Y/N smiled and nodded, guessing that it was Tony then who had made the announcement to save her and Steve from the insane reporters.

“Sir, if you don’t mind-” one of the reporters spoke up, holding up his camera. They all flocked in eagerly, waiting for Steve to give the ‘ok’.

Steve looked down at Y/N with a shy smile, “You got all dressed up, doll. I’d hate to have no photos of it.”

Y/N smiled and nodded slowly, deciding that tackling these people with Steve by her side was a lot easier than doing it on her own. Steve gave a nod to the reporters, stepping in closer to Y/N for the photos. He let his hand touch the back of her waist, as if worried he would cop a feel and she would be uncomfortable.

After a while of smiling and posing, Steve made a couple of jokes with her about wishing his art got phtoographed this often, his eyes still fixated on each camera. She laughed and couldn’t help but look up at him, her gaze trying to memorize every piece of his face. Her lips tingled slightly, as if reminding her of the reason they had met in the first place.

“Steve?” She whispered with a smile.

“Mm?” Steve’s blue eyes moved to meet hers, flashes still going around them.

“I think it might make my ex-boyfriend very jealous to know that I was a muse in an art exhibition.” Y/N stated with a smile, trying to press down the giggles bubbling in her throat.

Steve let out a laugh, making Y/N’s heart skip a beat or two, “Oh yeah? You’ll have to get some of those photos then.”

“We could make him more jealous though,” Y/N hinted at, her mind racing at her sudden surge of confidence.

Steve blinked at her, a little surprised at the suggestion, “You mean-”

“Will you kiss me, Steve?” she whispered, biting down on her lip slightly. “I promise I won’t run away with your sweater and art this time.”

Steve didn’t need to be asked again. He turned to face her, his one arm wrapping around her while his other hand reached up for her chin. Y/N felt the memory of their first meet flood back to her, “You better give me your number after this. Or my mom will have a field day,” he whispered into her lips before kissing her deeply.

Steve felt all of his worries and nerves sink into that kiss, only to be filled with a sense of belonging. He barely knew the girl but Steve hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her since Paris. He was so in love with this girl, he couldn’t help but feel like Fate had put them in Paris at the same time for a reason. Kissing her again in the museum, at this moment, Steve was sure of that reason.

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

I hope you guys enjoy this!! It’s probably one of my absolute favourites fics that I’ve ever written!

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secondratefiction · 3 years

Note

How about steve rogers realizing that he rather stay with (future?) s/o not peggy?

- For a brief moment, all logic and reason goes flying out the window. He sees her through the glass, hears her voice and suddenly he's thrown back to 1942 and his heart aches with a pain he's never fully allowed himself to process.

- But there's work to do, and somehow he manages to put the lid back on... all of that. For now.

- And with everything else that was going on, he did manage to almost completely forget almost seeing Peggy again. Possibly world ending events have a way of putting everything in perspective. They lost Nat. They lost Tony. They saved the world, but at what cost?

- And even then the works not finished. There are things that still need to be put back in place, and Steve takes it upon himself to do it.

- You're standing there with Bucky as he gets ready to go, and it twist something in his gut the way you're trying so hard to hide how nervous you are from him

"See you soon Cap, be safe."

"I will sugar, I'll be back before you know it."

- Everything else was easy. But there was something in him that couldn't stop himself from seeking her out when all his other work was done... He just needed to know she was ok.

- She was home alone when he showed up, and Steve felt like he'd been punched in the gut once she opened the door.

- Peggy looked like she'd seen a ghost, which in all fairness she kind of had in a way. And after the initial shock they both pulled eachother into the fiercest hug they would ever share with anyone.

- And for a brief moment, something in him felt whole and complete. For the first time in forever, one of the pieces of himself that had been missing was finally whole again.

"How..."

"It's a long story..."

- Steve sighed quietly and stepped back, still holding Peggy by the elbows as he looked down at her, "And I can't explain it all."

- They were different people now. He'd been changed just as irreversibly by the future as he had by the serum. And he could tell by looking at her Peggy had changed as well. She was still the strong, beautiful, determined woman she would always be, but things were also different.

- Time stops for no man.

- He caught a glimpse of some pictures on the wall over her shoulder - her family - and he smiled as he looked down at her.

"I love you, Peggy. I always will, and I am so glad you've made a life for yourself. I hope so badly that it is everything you deserve, and more."

- He smiled sadly, leaning in to kiss her forehead, "I have to go. You take care of yourself now Peggy."

- It was bittersweet, putting an end to that chapter of his life. And as much as it hurt to turn and walk away, there was still a part of him that felt unmistakably lighter too. He hit the button to take himself home.

- He found you and Bucky right where he'd left you along with Sam and Banner, though apparently he must have taken longer than expected because they all looked grim, and you looked like you were in the verge of panic.

"Sorry I'm late."

- You practically flung yourself at him, and while he managed to catch you, he still stumbled back a bit which sent both of you tumbling off the platform.

- And he just sits there in the ground and hold you because he may have found some small missing piece of himself in the past, but here he feels almost complete. There are some pieces that are never coming back, and that happens sometimes, but for once the broken edges don't matter, there isn't the sense of something missing.

"I thought you weren't coming back..."

"I couldn't do that to you sweetheart."

- Steve Rogers finally knows he's exactly where he's supposed to be.

#marvel #avengers #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x peggy carter #mcu #reader insert #requests

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illfoandillfie · 3 years

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If it's ok to ask, and if you like the idea, maybe a blurb where Roger, your friend/flatmate, finds your porn collection. Maybe its a set of playgirls? Or cinefilms? As its the 70s. At first you think hes going to tease you forever about it. He asks to prove how much better he is than any of those men. Thats how you become friends with benefits.

oh this was fun and also i might have got a bit distracted looking at 70s playgirls on ebay and etsy lmao

warnings: implied sex, talk of porn and sex toys but nothing explicit

Blurb Advent: Day 18

You’d maybe never been quite as subtle about your masturbation habits than perhaps you should have been. But in your defence neither was Roger. You’d heard him more than a few times and walked in on him once when he’d forgot to lock the bathroom door. But at least you’d never gone rifling through his belongings and invaded his porn collection. What he got off to was his business. He, on the other hand, didn’t seem to hold the same standards of decorum.

You’d realised something was amiss when you got home and found your bedroom door ajar, though initially you shrugged it off. Perhaps you’d just not shut it properly when you left that morning. Inside the room everything seemed to be in order so you put it down to your own mistake and set about unpacking your bag. Until Roger knocked on the door.

He stood in the doorway and flung a magazine onto your bed, “You can have that back, I’ve finished reading it.”

Confused and unable to remember loaning him any magazines, you turned to the bed to see what it was, only to whip back around to Roger in horror.

A handsome, moustached man stared out from the cover of one of your Playgirl magazines.

“Where’d you get this?”

“Bottom of your wardrobe,” Roger replied as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Why the fuck were you looking in my wardrobe?”

“I was trying to find that fucking vibrator you’ve always got going.”

“What?”

“Do you have any idea how loud that thing is? I mean our bedrooms are separated by a bathroom but it’s not like the walls are especially thick. And how often do you need it really? I mean, I swear it’s every bloody day.”

“Oh my god,” you hid your face in your hands, “Why didn’t you just tell me I was being too loud?”

“Yeah cause that wouldn’t have been an embarrassing conversation,”

“And what do you think this is?” you snapped, raising your head to glare at him though you couldn’t meet his eye.

“Oh this might be embarrassing for you but not me. Anyway, I figured I just steal the damn thing for a few days, give myself a week or so to go to sleep without hearing it’s infernal buzzing. But then I stumbled across your little collection.”

“I buy them for the articles.”

“Oh sure, I understand. That’s exactly why I buy Playboys too.”

“Fuck off, I actually do like the articles. They write about stuff relevant to me – forms of contraception and women’s health and the movement for female equality.”

“I really enjoyed that article in there called Everything You Must Know About Vibrators, is that what inspired you to buy your monstrous little machine?”

“There’s nothing wrong with women knowing how to please themselves.” “Course not. I take it that’s what the centrefolds are for too?”

“Fine, yes, sometimes I get off to the pictures. Like you said though, you get Playboy for the same reasons. So, you’ve had your laugh, you’ve seen my porn, now you can leave.”

“I’m not done yet,”

“What more can you have to say Roger? D’you wanna go through my favourite issues? D’you want a list of my favourite centrefolds? Dennis Ward’s shoot was particularly nice but nothing got the job done quite like –”

“Jesus, Y/N, no,” Roger held up his hand to stop you from continuing, “I just have one question. Have you ever been satisfied?”

“What?”

“Well, no offence, I’m sure they’re fine enough men and you have a rollicking good time looking at them, but none of them are really that inspiring are they? Some of them are….quite small.”

“Haven’t you heard? Size isn’t everything,”

“Was that another article was it? Anyway, I’m not saying I’m bigger than all of them,”

You blinked, completely baffled as to how you’d ended up here.

“But to me, as an unobjective outsider and as a flatmate, it doesn’t sound like you’re getting everything you need. I mean, clearly, the guys you’ve slept with in the past can’t have been much good if you’re buying toys because a magazine tells you to,”

“That’s not wh-”

“And I’ve flicked through a few of those issues” he jabbed his thumb in the direction of your wardrobe, “I’ve seen the articles about how to make your orgasms last longer and y’know tips for curing sexual hangups and I’m pretty sure there was an article just titled Good In Bed with a question mark at the end. So I really have to conclude that up until you bought your little friend, things weren’t so enjoyable for you.”

“You have no idea, I’ve had lots of good sex with my exes, I just happen to be single at the moment,”

“Well that’s obvious. I once heard you go, I swear, five times in one day. I mean, generally speaking it’d be at least once a day for you, wouldn’t it? Before you go to bed or first thing in the morning, just before you have a shower, while I’m trying to eat lunch, I could go on. So it’s fairly fucking obvious that you’re not getting much attention lately. And, as much as I hate to suggest it, I’d say that whatever you do when you look at these men, whatever you picture, isn’t really working. Certainly not well enough to keep you satisfied.”

“You can leave now, please,”

Roger kept talking even as you pushed him back out the door, “Do you think about them, even when you aren’t looking at the magazines? Think about joining them in their bed or by the pool or while they’re listening to music with their dick swinging about? Cause, Y/N, I can guarantee I’d be better than whatever you’re imagining.”

You stopped in the doorway, staring at him in disbelief.

“Think about it,” he shrugged, turning to go back to his own room.

You closed your bedroom door behind you and leaned against it as you tried to process what had just happened. Roger had insulted your choice of porn and then hit on you. That was right wasn’t it? He’d actually implied he would like to have sex with you? You pulled your door open again and headed for his room, not bothering to knock before turning the knob and opening the door.

“Think about what exactly? You and Me?”

Roger laughed from where he sat at his desk and turned around in his chair to face you, “Why not? We’re both single, we’re both hot. I’ve been thinking about fucking you since you first got that vibrator. And I’m more real than anyone else you’ve got right now.”

“That’s crazy,”

“Alright, offer still stands though.”

You shook your head but didn’t move. After all, you’ve heard him too, groaning and breathing hard. And you had caught a glimpse that one time, saw what he was working with though you’d both pretended you hadn’t.”

“Are you going to stand there all night? Just that I’ve got some work to get on with, so,”

“Okay. Maybe I am a little curious. Not saying I agree to anything just yet but…how would it work?”

“I don’t know, we just fuck. Whenever we’re both in the mood for it, for as long as we’re both single and want it to keep happening.”

“Nothing else? No dates, no anything?”

“Love, if I wanted a girlfriend, I’d have one. I just thought I’d offer you my services, show you what you’re missing.”

“What if you can’t satisfy me?”

“Oh, don’t worry about that. Either, I’m going to wear you out, show you what a proper fuck feels like so you stop reaching for your vibrator every two minutes. Or we discover you’re some sort of insatiable sex fiend who can’t get enough and I might finally have a girl who can keep up with me. I can give you a test run now, show you what you’d be getting by agreeing. If it’s not good enough then we call it off, no harm done.”

You absentmindedly bit your thumb nail as you weighed up your options. Turn around, go back to your room and probably have a wank (without the vibrator) while you inevitably thought about Roger’s offer and wondered if you should have agreed. Or stay and get your answer.

“Okay, but this is the only chance you get. If it’s shit, we forget it and you shut up about my toys and my porn,”

Roger grinned and stood up, “That’s all I need.”

#Anonymous #my writing #my blurbs #smut blurb #(more or less)#blurb advent 2020 #roger taylor x reader #roger taylor imagine #roger taylor smut

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buckysmischief · 4 years

Text

running in the dark - 1

Bucky Barnes x reader

Word Count: 1,291

Warning(s): language, angst from the start but ends on a good note

AN: It you haven’t seen x men first class and/ or don’t know who Alex Summers is & need a face for the character, just google Lucas Till. & if anyone wants to be tagged, there’s 23 spots.

to the permanent tags - if you don’t want to be on the list anymore for any reason at all, message me and let me know. ill be making a post about it in a few days (maybe) but just figured id mention it now lol

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Your attention wasn’t fully on Alex and he could tell, “Where’s your head at?”

“You,” you lied, “and this game.”

“You hate baseball, Yn. Don’t lie.” Alex Summers was a blonde hair blue eyes masterpiece who was sculpted by the gods, too bad their temper wore off on him.

In the hopes of avoiding a public argument, you thought telling the truth would be the safest bet, “My anxiety is just really high, Wanda and Pietro kinda dropped a bomb on me before I left the house and I haven’t processed it. Remember my old neighbor that I was close to, but we fell out of touch? He’s coming back apparently.” For a moment you thought he had dropped it, but no, he’s been wanting to start a fight since you made him late to the game.

“So you’re telling me that you’re thinking of another guy and the irrelevance of his life to yours in the middle of a date that I paid for?” He always knew how to play the victim, and any other night you would have fallen for it, but not tonight. So you ignored him. “Well I’m gonna go, have fun finding a way home.”

You didn’t have to find one, Wanda was always on standby for situations like this - which was reason number four she didn’t like him. The fact that it happened more than once wasn’t information you wanted to share, but after a long session with your therapist you knew that it wouldn’t do well to keep that information to yourself. If Bucky was here it would have been him, which was something else she wanted to talk about but your time would always run out around that point.

The drive to the house from the stadium was short and quiet, but the moment the smell of the ocean began to fill your senses you felt yourself becoming more grounded. Living at the beach was the one condition you had when Wanda suggested you get a place together, which is why she had four houses picked out before she even asked you.

You just wanted to go sit on the roof and watch the waves crash into the sand, but if Pietro’s car parked in the driveway meant anything it was that the three of you were in for one hell of a night.

“Hey there, doll.” Correction, the four of you. “Long time no see.”

“I’m sorry, who are you?” Anger was never an emotion you felt for Bucky before he left, but over time it became the only one you could remember.

Bucky knew you wouldn’t be exactly thrilled to see him, not after cutting all communication, but he didn’t expect that. He expected awkward silence, shifty eye contact, even you going off on him. If he knew you were this mad, pretending not to know him mad, he would have gone about this totally different. “Let’s walk the beach, the moon’s just bright enough to light the way.”

“No.” You wanted to run to him and give him a hug that would make up for the eight years of silence, but when you looked at the man who was standing in your living room… he was a stranger. This Bucky’s hair was shorter and he stood taller, you could spot a few tattoos on his arms and another creeping up the side of his neck, he even had facial hair. If so much had changed on the outside, you weren’t ready to find out how much had changed on the inside, not yet. “You’re a stranger, could be a murder for all I know. Or worse, someone who just up and leaves. Already had that happen once tonight, wouldn’t wanna risk it a second time.”

You ignored everyone and walked up to your room and had every intention of going to bed, but the voices coming from downstairs were too distracting - especially since you couldn’t make out what they were saying. It didn’t help that you longed to have your toes in the sand ever since Bucky mentioned that walk. The last thing you were going to do was show your face downstairs though, so your bedroom window was the only way out.

Once you were safely on solid ground and you could taste the salt in the air it was like you could breathe again. In the last six hours your entire world had turned upside down, again. It always seemed like one thing after another but the last six alone have been a complete joke. Sure, lashing out probably wasn’t the best move but what else were you supposed to do? Pretend everything was okay? Not a chance.

“You know, after all these years it’s comforting to know this is still your happy place.” You didn’t hear him coming, but you figured he’d show up eventually.

“So you’re not a stranger.” he started to smile, figuring you were finally over it and ready to talk, but that wasn’t the case. “You’re a stalker.”

“Can you just drop the attitude for five minutes and look at me? You can be mad at me all you want after that. If you can’t give me five minutes then I’ll leave, but when you’re ready I’ll be at Pietro’s.” He stood behind you for a few more minutes, neither of you speaking a word, before deciding to walk away. Your feet were moving before your brain could even register what was happening, and when Bucky turned around with arms wide open because he knew no matter what you’d never let him walk away from you, you ran even faster.

The two of you just sat in silence for a while, but eventually Bucky’s curiosity got the better of him, “So, who is Alex?”

“Alex Summers, he was a grade ahead of us.”

“You’re dating that asshole?”

“How surprised are you really?” Truth be told, he wasn’t. Of course he hoped that at some point over the years you would stop dating losers and find someone who treated you right, for many years he hoped that guy would be him, but sadly he knew neither of those things would happen.

“You deserve someone who’s going to treat you right, Yn, that’s it.” He meant it. Even if that person was someone else, he meant it. Bucky had tried moving on from you by dating a couple different women but they could never compare to you, especially Natasha. She was so jealous of his friendship with you, even the idea of you, that she had somehow manipulated her way into alienating you from his life. It was something he couldn’t undo, but something he was determined to make right.

“So what about you?” wanting to change the subject as quickly as possible, you asked the first thing that came to mind, “How was the Army?”

“It was fine. Got to travel a bit but I mostly stayed in Texas. How have things been here?”

“They’ve been great.” The lie came out easy, it always did. “Do you wanna head back in? I’m starving.”

He pulled you up from your spot in the sand and as he was carrying you back to the house you realized you weren’t mad at him anymore. You had a glimpse of hope that maybe this was the first step in things finally going back to normal since he left.

“So,” he spoke softly, “we’re good?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, we were never not good.” acting as if you didn’t treat him as a stranger only hours ago.

“I was hoping you grew out of being a brat.” Everyone knew that would never happen.

“Me? A brat? Sergeant Barnes, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

perm tags (49/50): @sociallyeneptbarnes @hopesbarnes @stuckonjbbarnes @superavengerpotterstar @estillion14 @sleepingspacedragon @geeksareunique @imsoft-barnes @piper-koko-barnes-rogers @murdermornings @distractedgemini @screaming-fridge @readeity @whatinthyworld @my-drowning-in-time @valkyriesryde @buggy-blogs @hey-its-grey @pinknerdpanda @brokenthelovely @theannoyingnightmarecollector @death-unbecomes-you @rhymesmenagerie @teasgyu @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @https-bucky @also-fangirlinsweden @goalexis123 @missmeganrachel @sunflowersandcherry @miraclesoflove @matsumama @reann-loves-sebstan @thinkoutsidethebex @thefridgeismybestie @niall2017 @maddope @imagine-all-the-imagines @thummbelina @m3ga1nsp1r3d @romaniansweetheart @thebadassbitchqueen @king-sebb @nerdy-bookworm-1998 @bonkyboinkybucky @slaytherinthoughts @kingkassam @anti-the-glitch-bitch @poppunkdork

series tags (2/25): @rebekahdawkins @writerwrites

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #alex summers x reader #angst #fluff #mutual pining #wanda maximoff #pietro maximoff #bucky barnes #alex summers #mcu fanfic #mcu fanfiction #marvel #running in the dark

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handsoffmyscarfsherlock · 3 years

Text

Running into Love

Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: Reader is being followed on their way home and bumps into Steve.

Warnings: Minor stalking, minor horror vibes, fluff

Note: Hello! After a bit of a break, the writing juices are beginning to flow again. Requests are open and I’m excited to dust off the ‘ol writing hands!

You had just gotten off of work, a grueling shift. Your boss decided that only you were capable of doing all the tasks in your workplace. Long story short… you hate his guts for this. You haven’t gotten off work on time in months.

The bus jolted you out of your thoughts. Your feet move on their own, shuffling to get off the bus. In your tired state, you manage to murmur a thank you to the driver. Your body felt the warmth of the drowsiness slowly creep up your spine. Cloudiness fogged your brain, making you forget the typical safety measures you normally take to ensure a safe return home. The sweet prospect of your soft and fluffy bed distracts you from your surroundings. You barely even notice the man who had begun to follow you.

Your shoes make a scuffing noise against the sidewalk. The streetlight above you slowly flickers on and off, distorting the shadows on the sidewalk. The cold wind rips through you taking you out of your sleepy thoughts. Goodness gracious. You thought to yourself, trying to adapt and block the cold with you flimsy jacket. Looking ahead, there is no one to be seen. Your body brings you further out of that beautiful warmth of your drowsiness. You begin to notice the soft sounds of footsteps behind you.

Your head slowly goes over your shoulder, trying to get a glimpse of the owner of the noise behind you. Your eyes are hesitant, nervous to even take a look. However, you fight through the nerves and finally see him. Tall, big, and the kind of person you avoid when walking the streets at night. Your heart pounds in your chest.

Calm down Y/n. He could just be walking home, like you. There’s nothing to worry about.

You decide to pick up the pace, your body unwillingly giving into the adrenaline that is currently coursing through your veins. The foot steps increase in speed behind you. Oh no. Your breath gets caught in your chest, like something in a horror movie. Your vision becomes a tunnel, looking for anything to help you get away.

I’ll take that turn up ahead, if he follows me, I’m screwed.

You hold your breath as you turn the corner, also looking around to find anything that could help this situation. Nothing? Really? Why is everything closed?

You whip your head around again. He’s still there. Your body is in full panic mode, heart pounding, mind racing, and tears making their way forward. Whipping over your shoulder again, you see the man meet your gaze. His eyes, with that look you could place in an instant, you knew. The man began to break into a light jog. Your body kicked into action.

You booked it. Your legs felt the shock as your feet hit the sidewalk. You were running for your life. You fly around another corner and continue to run, the man following behind you. Your mind is filled with fear, millions of thoughts running wild and unhinged. You are moving upon instinct, the need to survive. Tears stained your face as you continue to run. Blinking them away you turn another corner and smack into something. Pain erupts through your body as you collide with the object. You open your eyes, not realizing that you had closed them upon impact.

A person. Your mouth begins to move quicker than your mind can process while new tears flow down your face.

“Help me, please, I’m-“ you blubber to this stranger, nothing making sense. The stranger, in the midst of the collision, had placed his big hands on your shoulders to stabilize you. They felt warm, comforting. He takes a moment and looks at you, shocked, to see a frightened, shaking, and sobbing figure in front of him. Deciding in that second he whispers soft and low, “Trust me, ok?”

He wraps you up in his muscled arms, cradling your head to his chest. You hear him murmur, “It’s going to be alright, I promise.” You hear the fast footsteps finally turn the corner… and stop.

The stranger you bumped into looks down at you and you struggle to meet his gaze, still frightened. His finger finds your chin to lift your face up to meet his. You see a confident, yet kind look on his face. Reassuring you with just that look, his voice cuts through the silence in that moment, “Hey Doll, looks like you beat me to our corner.”

Your savior releases you from the embrace. He turns his back to your attacker and links your arm through his. Your breath slowly beings to return to normal as the man walks you down the block.

“Let’s go home, my love,” the stranger said. You nod your head, yes.

You make it down the block while the stranger makes small talk with you, making sure your attacker did not follow you. The two of you turn another corner, still arm in arm. You stop walking. His arm moves from yours, eventually setting his hand on your shoulder.

“Thank you,” you whisper to him beginning to get choked up again feeling the lump begin to form in the back of your throat, “I don’t know what would’ve happened to me if you hadn’t-“

“You don’t have to thank me, I’m just happy I was there to help you,” the stranger replied kindly. A tear escapes your eye and you feel the man’s thumb wipe it away for you, soft and gentle.

You took a moment to finally look at this person who helped you. He had kind eyes that matched his voice. They were a pretty blue that reminded you of a cool, clear lake. He stood tall and muscular with light brown hair that looked almost blonde in the light of the street lamps.

His eyes look down at his feet and he clears his throat, “Are you ok?”

“I’m ok now, thank you-“ he cuts you off and chuckles.

“Hey, you don’t have to thank me. I just want to make sure that you’re ok. The fear that was in your eyes, I haven’t seen that look in a long time,” his voice reassuring you.

Your eyes also meet the floor, not knowing what to say.

“I’m sorry, I’m just rambling at this point. I’m Steve by the way,” finally introducing himself. He gives you a genuine smile.

You return a smile back to him, “I’m Y/n. You know, it’s nice to know the name of the guy who saved my life tonight.”

He let out a deep laugh that resonated through your body.

“So,” Steve shifts his weight, “I’m not that great, but you know what would make me feel better?”

You chuckle and shrug your shoulders. “It would really make me feel better if I can walk you home. Make sure you get home safe and sound,” he replies.

You look into his eyes and they shine with the ferocity and determination of a soldier on a mission. You smile at him, “I would love that Steve.”

You felt safe for the first time tonight in the presence of Steve. He offers you his arm again and you take it.

“Let’s go home, Y/n.”

STEVE ROGERS TAGLIST

@patzammit

#Chris Evans #steve x reader #steve rogers x reader #captain america x reader #captain america #Bucky Barnes #marvel

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rosepetals-flyingbirds · 4 years

Text

Don’t Leave.

With: Bucky x Reader.

Words: 3.548.

Yes, i have a similar version with Ivar.

“Do you love me?”

“Yes.”

“Say you love me.”

“I love you.”

She would ask that, she didn’t want to sound clingy, probably why the moments she asked those simple four words were always when they were the most intimate.

How beautiful she is. Bucky could never grasp why she was with him. Y/N would always laugh when he said something as cliche like “I’m so lucky to have you”,“you’re so beautiful, what are you doing with me?”, "my sweet little angel", "my doll".

The truth was that Y/N found Bucky extremely handsome. She could watch him all day if required. She loved his eyes, his lips, his facial hair which seemed to grow by seconds, his soft hair, his jaw, his scars, his metal arm, his nightmares.

Everything.

But she also loved his personality. He was such a complicated person! Traumatized, stubborn, closed off but… he was funny, so damn smart, sweet, surprisingly romantic, and truly cared about her.

Both were too scared to start something when they first fell for each other. Bucky had such a terrible life filled with torture and loss. So even if unconsciously, he expected pain from all the situations, and if he couldn't love himself how could someone else love and accept him?

And Y/N had too much trust issues to trust a guy. Maybe it could be her father’s responsibility for cheating on her mother, hell, even her mother’s fault for cheating on her father!

Maybe it was all the people's fault for cheating on their s/o and acting like it was okay… like it was some animal instinct that overpowered them.

Weak.

But she allowed Bucky in her heart, how could she not? Never a guy has made such sweet displays for her. It was in the details, when he saved the last cupcake for her. When he would give her his jacket. Or offered her a ride on his motorcycle when she needed to go somewhere and Bucky didn't want her feeling crowded in the subways and buses.

Even so much as buying flowers. Back in the day it was normal, to court someone. Buy some flowers, a box of chocolate -or in the case of New York's depression, a flower stolen on the neighbor and some candy his parents had saved in the fridge- but in the modernity, it seemed as "clichê", he thought of asking help to make a cd to you, but then they said now it was a playlist-thing and he excluded that idea because it was getting too weird and he didn't want to ask help. So he did buy flowers, not a bouquet, but a small jar with a tiny flower so she could plant, then another, then a small cactus, and when the idea of receiving flowers from him was something expected; He bought a bouquet.

And it was stunning.

A mix of blue roses, with white tulips, lavender, and blue nemophila. Only the most distinct, so Y/N could feel he thought about her in the whole process. Which everyone could see he did. She was the only thing that mattered to him. He was so gentle, never pushed her to do something she wasn't comfortable with, on the contrary actually, y/n that initiated the first time they had sex, the kisses grew deeper but Bucky wasn't ready so they waited until he felt comfortable. He was honest, kind, and even with his nightmares... he opened up to her, allowed her in the vastness that was his mind. His guilt, his pain.

He trusted her, and Y/N thought it was amazing.

Once -while friends- they went to a small gathering Fury throw to celebrate a successful mission that took a couple of years to be done. And everyone was dressed up, and even that some said it was a small party, it ended up with 200 people. Bucky didn't want to go at first, but Steve told him it would do good, and then Y/N was excited too so he made the effort.

Besides, since he started working with the team, the shield agents took a likening to the metal armed man.

Bucky thought in holding his hair together in a man bun, but then he felt weird so he took it off. So he tried another style but it was also ridiculous. He ended up letting it freely, as usual, she seemed to like in that way.

But deep down he just wanted to look good. For her.

They went together to the place, of course it was high safety so they could relax, even for just a moment. Y/N looked stunning, per usual, she didn't like to use makeup on the daily basis, and she was a fucking piece of art. But she also managed to look striking with those products on her face, Buck giggled as she held his arm for support since she was wearing Natasha's heels, and since people always saw them together and adding that in the party people were sure they got together.

Steve was proud, very much. Even though his heart broke a bit since he had a major crush on Y/N since the day he saw her for the first time. But the way Bucky looked at her... that was what love glowed like.

But as the night went on and Y/N mixed with her other friends, Bucky kept alert and spotted a man staring at her, he was Jay Halstead, a good guy, great agent, and Y/N's friend, and what pissed Bucky more was the fact that they would look great together.

If Jay was a prick, it would be easier but he was a good fella, as good at the level that he served with Sam in the army, good as he was the one that helped Steve to find the best psychologic on the country.

Annoyingly good. And he would be good for her.

Buck was talking with Steve and Clint when he got a glimpse of Jay approaching y/n, and she was very happy to see him. Hugged him and even allowed him to linger his arm on her shoulder.

Buck's stance changed and Steve realized why.

Clint drank his beer and shrugged. "If she isn't your girlfriend you can't be pissed because other guys like her."

Buck didn't agree, nor responded but he knew what Clint meant.

Before Steve could give some advice Buck smiled, y/n waved at him and called him over.

Buck looked at Steve who told him it was okay.

Jay smiled seeing Bucky, shook his hand and Buck was glad Jay’s arm wasn't around y/n's shoulder anymore.

"Hey, just wanted to congratulate you on the last mission, saw the files and you fixed what Fury has been trying to fix in 12 years."

Taken aback by the praise Buck only nodded, but a small smile lingered on his face. "Thanks, man."

"And also he now beats Steve in the mornings run." Y/N confessed.

Jay laughed and by Y/N’s smile it was clear it was an inside joke. "No one can ever beat Steve Rogers, I fainted last time I tried."

"Well, I have been winning in runs over the punk since we were 10. Some things don't change with time."

"Yeah, i have to go. Mission tomorrow morning, just passed by to say hello to everyone." Jay leaned and kissed Y/N's cheek. "Bye, sweetheart. Good to see you." And then extended his hand again to shake Bucky's. "And congratulations again, i am happy you're in the avengers. The world needs you." With a tap on the shoulder, Jay left and Bucky stood a bit shocked for what the man said.

But after all, it was all Y/N has been saying over the months she met him.

And after what seemed like ages Y/N finally let him in. And Buck also fought his demons and allowed to be loved and cherished by someone.

And it was amazing.

...

Meeting her family took a bit longer than the ’normal’ couples take. Her family was okay, but she was worried about how they would feel and most importantly how Buck would feel.

Y/N’s family lived far and using Tony's jet they flew to her homeland, her cousin flirted with Bucky wich made Y/N glare at her almost all barbecue. Y/N's mom was a bit worried about her daughter date a man in such a dangerous life, but she was happy so that was all that mattered.

And Bucky's family was Steve, so it was clear that he accepted them together.

Buck has never felt so much like he did with her.

...

Dream.

Dream was the word Bucky could only imagine when Y/N danced for him. Her small satin dress covering her smooth skin, he loved how her hips moved so graciously, the scent of her shampoo, how she kissed his cheeks when he made coffee for her. Y/N could be in her period, feeling awful wearing baggy pants and still, she managed to steal his heart even without trying. He was sure that no one had ever loved someone as much as he loves her.

He could do anything for her.

...

On a mission, Bucky was looking the area of the attack arguing with Sam of where was the best point of attack, he was really close to yell at the man who never agreed with his tactics when his phone made a ping sound letting him know a message has arrived.

Hey baby, I hope you’re okay and you haven’t slapped Samuel! I’m watching you, mister! ;)

I’ll have to make a small trip with Brenda, she had a problem with her parents and she needs me to help her. I’m sorry but I really have to go. See you in a few days.

Bucky, I love you. With all that I am.

Bucky found it weird, Brenda’s family lived in another country, why she would make such travel in a hurry?

Of course, Y/N was a good friend, but she didn’t do such spontaneous things.

As he glanced at his cellphone with a keyboard (designed for him, since his metal arm managed to break the last smartphones) he re-read the messages before he tried to call her only to be met with a voice message. He tried to calm his nerves down and finish his work. She had warned him after all, it wasn’t like she went away without telling him.

At their apartment, he saw a few notes here and there, one in the fridge telling she left some leftovers for some days.

Another in the bathroom reminding him to buy shampoo and one on their bedroom saying: “You won’t die if I stay a few days away.”

Silly girl.

But even if Buck was suspicious of the sudden new he needed to trust her, he couldn’t be the crazy boyfriend who didn’t trust his girl.

However on the next day, he found it completely weird that she didn’t call him, she sent a text saying she was okay and safe but she couldn’t call him, he asked why but she just asked him to trust her and quickly stopped answering his texts.

Really really weird.

Was she kidnapped? Was she cheating on him? Was she really traveling with her friend? His mind couldn’t stop making ideas up. Bad assumptions up.

Gladly Bucky had a great memory so he remembered Brenda’s adress when Y/N went there a few months prior, he had to go there and see if Brenda was at home, if his girl was there or if she was actually out of the country. If she was out of danger.

Finally reaching the the street he stopped the car before walking to Brenda's house. He knocked on the door praying for no one to be home, but after a few seconds, it quickly opened with Brenda showing him a confused face. “Hey? What are you doing here?”

Fuck. “Hey, um, is Y/N here?”

“No, actually I haven’t talked with her for weeks now. Why? Did you guys had a fight?” For Brenda, it was almost impossible for you and Buck to fight, but as herself had a realtioship where she thought the man was perfect, she knew to expect anything.

Y/N lied, what was happening?

Knowing it wasn’t for the best to let her know about the situation he made a small smile. “Yeah, we did, I thought she was here. Thanks.” He hurriedly left not waiting for her response.

All the -painful- way home Bucky overthought his whole relationship, why would Y/N lie to him?

He couldn’t place a reason for it, the only things that were hammering on his thoughts were the hypothesis: Kidnap, cheating or she simply got tired of his traumatized self.

But why would she cheat on him?

Wasn’t he a good boyfriend? Does she suddenly feel tired of his problems?

Was she tired of his hard personality?

Wasn’t he satisfying her in bed?

Have you found someone else?

Why?

And most important…if so, with who?

Bucky's mind was around doubts and adding all of his insecureness wasn’t helping much.

He didn’t even realize he reached her building until he saw his neighbor going for a walk with his dog. The whole walk he was pinned by fear and rage that he didn’t even count his steps.

To not help much his case he called her with no answer, he texted her with no answer either.

What could he do? He didn’t know where she was, or with who she was.

Was she safe?

“What is happening, my heart? Why are you lying to me?” He mumbled alone in their bedroom.

His heart cracking each thought he had.

After five longs and painful days, he received a text.

Hey Bucky. I’m going home we need to talk.

Bucky couldn’t answer, he couldn’t possibly ask what she wanted to talk about? Why would she leave him?

...

There she stood, a single suitcase in her hand and a tired face.

Bucky wanted to hug her, to get in his feet, and to say how worried he was… but no! He allowed his rage to consume him when he saw she was alright and no enemy of his has taken and hurt her.

He was mad.

“Hey Bucky we-”

“Why?” Without letting her finish her sentence or even getting up from the couch, he asked.

“What?”

“Why you left and lied? Are you tired? Do you want to break up? Because i re-create the past weeks and i can’t see a reason for this, Y/N. You ran away and lied to me saying you traveled with Brenda to Brazil?”

She didn’t argue, only let the suitcase on the floor and rubbed her face. And with her silent stare, Bucky knew the end was near.

And that would break him, make all of the pieces he built in the last years since he got free from Hydra to fall apart.

Letting a sarcastic chuckle his frustration over the last weeks started to show with full force. “You’re selfish! I always said that i don't need your help, that i was broken and still am but you didn't have to stay with me. I always warned you and now that i'm so fucking deep in love with you-you will destroy this. But please, tell me what is it. Am I not satisfying you enough? Or is the nightmares? Maybe because i ca not go to the library with you or because we can’t go to the movies and i know you always says that Stark's is almost the same but you love movies and Y/N-”

For more dramatically Bucky sounded, she knew he was self-conscious about his state, of course, he did therapy to help with his self-loathing but seeing the most precious thing getting ready to leave was about to break his cold-mended heart.

Making all his therapy process going to air.

Y/N stood there, looking tired and staring at him. She knew he would be mad, she was mad at herself for lying so blatantly. “Are you done?”

Taking a deep breath and placing his hands on his pockets he nodded, trying to control the tears to leave his eyes.

“I’m not cheating you, I never did, I never will. And i'm not tired of us. I’m not overwhelmed, you are the most important thing in the universe to me.” She took her jacket off and walked to the couch.

Bucky looked at her carefully while she approached him, so what was the problem then. “Tell me.”

“I’m not trying to break up with you, if that is what you think.”

He nodded and let a small sigh let his nostrils. A lock of hair leaving his man bun and Y/N's fingers itched to pull it behind his ear.

“I… I needed some time to think, I didn’t want to lie to you but I really needed some time alone without you getting worried.”

Was she sick? Why was she so sad?

He sat by her side and looked at her lap taking a deep breath, her gaze met Bucky's and she nodded her head almost telling herself it was the proper moment. “I’m pregnant.”

The time seemed to stop for Buck, such a brilliant man and that was the only thing he hasn’t anticipated to leave her beautiful’s lips.

It made sense for him now, Y/N was always predicting the worst. Always waiting for the day he would grow tired of her and leave, or only try to have some “fun” and fool around with someone else.

She didn’t want to have a child because she was afraid she would have to do it all by herself.

“Y/N… baby, I’m-”

“I don’t want it.” Her answer was firm but her lips were trembling with nerves. “I-” Her eyes filled with tears, even with the past days being of pure anxieties and sorrow, she still had tears left. “I can’t have it, Bucky. I- I-, I’m so scared.”

He couldn’t control his eyes when they glanced at her belly, his child was there, growing each day. He wanted the baby, wanted a boy or a girl to cherish and take care.

And only the thought of a baby so pure and ethereal as Y/N meant a lot.

It was his.

After everything he suffered, everything he did that provoked people to suffer, he was blessed with a son or a daughter.

But he needed to focus on her.

“Will you try ab- abortion?” He didn’t want her to do that, he would try to change her mind if she said yes but he knew it was her choice.

“I… I don’t know! I mean no I won’t. I can’t! But Bucky, I’m so so scared.”

“You think I’ll leave.” He said softly, she looked at him startled, but she shouldn’t. Bucky always knew her. “You know I would never abandon you, especially not with our child.”

She nodded, her heartbeat going faster and faster by the second. He could hear it, of course he could. Apparently, the time to “cool off” didn’t help as she has thought.

Bucky gently held her waist and thigh and pulled her to his lap, Y/N hugged him tightly and started to sob. Bucky was her home.

And she was terrified he would leave her, especially with a child to take care of.

“Shh shh, pretty girl. It’ll be okay.” His hand started to caress her scalp softly trying to bring her some comfort.

Some minutes of pure comfortable silence passed before Y/N straightened her back and looked at the deep blue of his eyes. “I’m sorry I lied…” She murmured.

Bucky chuckled at the thought of how angry he was 20 minutes ago at her, now it seemed really stupid the way he allowed his demons to make him think the worst of his angel.

“I forgive you. Y/N,” He raised his hand and touched her cheek softly, she leaned in and kissed his palm. “I know you’re worried I’ll leave or that you will have to raise that child alone but I promise you that I won’t let you down! I won’t let our child down!” He placed his other hand on her belly, Y/N smiled at the vision.

Of course, she didn’t have a bump yet, but seeing Bucky hand touching a place where half him and half her was growing was a new comforting feeling.

Y/N nodded and smiled at him, lifting her pinky she pouted. “Promise? Even that the serum has some effect or if someone tries to take them away from me. Promise you will be there for me?”

He chuckled at her cuteness but realized how deeper the worries about a child was, interlacing his pinky with hers he nodded. “I promise.” She leaned in and kissed him lovely. She missed him.

He gazed at her, and as he passed his thumb under her eye to dry a tear, he was more sure than ever that she was the light of his life. “We got this, my love.” He affirmed his hands holding her face softly. “We do.”

Bucky Barnes is good at protecting the ones he loved, so he will do the possible and impossible to protect his perfect little family.

…

<3 <3 <3

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you

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anika-ann · 4 years

Text

Errare Humanum Est - Pt.16

Down the Memory Lane

Type: series, soulmate AU series (part 1, part 2) x Supernatural

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader (past?) Word count: 3880

Summary: You don’t remember your soulmate and all you knew his now is his name, his looks and that you have died on him... but perhaps you could at least learn the sweet parts of your story too?

Warnings: mentions of violence, swearing, light angst and fluff, oh, and Dean’s human skills in overdrive for a bit ;)

Story masterlist

༻༺༻༺༻ღ༺༻༺༻༺

The ten minutes it took Steve to return from the communal kitchen was enough of a breather, allowing you to put yourself together at least a bit. A bit. You spent most of the given time staring blindly ahead with your brain in overdrive, alternating it with the urge to get up from your ass to inspect the room closer.

Steve had your favourite tea stocked; did he have a picture of you somewhere? Was there anything that would clue you what he enjoyed doing when he wasn’t working? What did he like to wear? If you opened the rather spacious closet, would you find a pile of white tank tops and sweats like the ones he was wearing now or would there be a variety of shirts – blue ones, preferably, ones that would bring out his eyes? Was he a tea drinker like you (apparently)? Was he a health freak or that kind of a person who could eat anything and still stay fit due to lucking out and probably working out like a half of a day?

What was the notebook placed on one of his nightstands with a pencil on it? Was it a diary? A place to write down random thoughts? Things he remembered to do right before falling asleep, writing them down rather than leaving the bed to complete the task instantly? Or did he like drawing? Writing stories? Poetry?

So, so many questions… the anxiety from meeting him was still more than present, but now the curiosity was gently nudging it away. You felt calmer. The minutes were enough for settling your frantic thoughts.

That was what you kept telling yourself until Steve showed up with two mugs that smelled like heaven and… a plate of cookies.

They looked like sugar cookies (how did you know sugar cookies again?) and your mouth instantly started watering. You were very quickly falling for this man. It probably helped he knew how to make you fall for him, because he knew what you liked better than yourself, but damn.

You watched him put the items on the table, waiting for him to sit. He seemed more at ease too, as if the short time apart helped him collect himself, though his eyes were red-rimmed as if he had a quick cry and a freak-out; to which you could easily relate.

Nevertheless, his whole body appeared more relaxed, the tension in his shoulders dissolving. His features were soft, less worries clouding his expression. He even gave you a brief smile, gesturing towards the coffee table.

“Steve, how dare you?” you quipped in return, making him freeze.

“What did I do?” he asked, sounding wounded and alarmed.

“Cookies. How dare you to serve cookies with what apparently is my favourite tea. What is it, by the way? It smells amazing.”

His smile shone brighter when he realized you were only being playful. Why were you being playful again? Where did it come from?

“Black tea. Flavoured sweet cherry. And I thought… uhm, I saw the cookies in the kitchen and thought you might like some,” he revealed, the subtle blush rushing back to his cheeks, much to your delight. The tips of his ears turned pink too. It was adorable.

While you believed there was more behind his statement, you didn’t call him out on it. Yet.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

You took one of the mugs to your hands, gently blowing the tea, swirling the aroma. Yeah, you could see this thing being your favourite beverage. When you sipped it carefully, you were sure.

Glancing at Steve, you saw him watching you, clearly content with your reaction. You smiled at him over the edge of the mug before setting it down again.

“So… what was the first thing I told you?”

“…that there must be a mistake,” he admitted slowly, a hint amusement soaking through his voice.

You, on the other hand, were horrified.

“I did what?! Oh my god, why would I do that?”

Steve’s amusement only seemed to grow, a bashful smile curling up his lips, an eyebrow slowly rising.

“I told you I really was 95. If you want to get into conversation about which of us should reconsider thinking before speaking, you might need a better argument here.”

That… yeah, okay, you had to give him that. But still.

‘There must be a mistake’ and ‘I’m sorry’? Wow, you rocked this whole talking to your soulmate for the first time thing, didn’t you?

“…okay. That’s fair. But that must have been terrible for you to think that… I dunno. Maybe thinking that I would consider meeting you a mistake, right?”

Steve shrugged and delicately –yes, delicately, despite his huge hands – pulled at the straps of his top, revealing the words for you to see.

Oh, great, the first time when you met him, there was even an ‘Oh no’ involved.

Upon seeing the lines of ink, your heart tried to beat its way of your chest. You convinced yourself it was the words and the words only. It had nothing to do with the fact you peaked a patch of skin you hadn’t before. It wasn’t that you could see his muscles shift. Nope.

Your mouth also didn’t feel like watering; that would be embarrassing. And inappropriate.

You really hoped Steve would think that the heat in your cheeks was caused by seeing an evidence of your perfect human skills showing when meeting him for the first and the second time (for the first time but the second time?).

You cleared your throat awkwardly and lowered your gaze.

“Uh-uh. You told me you were hoping to meet me at very late age, because otherwise would be weird. Not ideal either,” he remarked and once again, he was right of course. After all, you remembered the confusion it caused when you had been trying to figure out what it meant. “But I’m getting ahead of myself. Both yours and my words actually have perfect explanation.”

You hummed, encouraging him to continue, taking a cookie.

Which was a mistake. Like, a real fucking mistake.

Because they weren’t sugar cookies. They were peanut butter, you knew that much even though not being sure how.

And you very quickly understood that you loved peanut butter cookies. You almost choked on the heaven that exploded in your mouth.

Steve raised a questioning eyebrow, but the way he bit his cheek gave him away. He knew exactly what he was doing.

You pointed an accusing finger on him, earning a sheepish chuckle and a confession. “I was hopeful.”

“Uh-um. Good call. I honestly know like five people by their name so far, but you are quickly becoming my favourite,” you joked, turning horrified a second later.

How did you make fun of your amnesia?

Steve stiffened too, but he was fast to recover. He breathed in shakily, catching your gaze, his suddenly serious eyes boring into yours.

“Look, I know… this must be really hard for you, but… if you let me, if you let me,” he emphasized, the blue with just a drop of green of his eyes calming and sincere, “I’ll help you. We contact your family, your friends, we tell you everything we know. We help you to explore what you like and what you don’t and… and if it’s different from what you liked before, that’s fine. These are… stupid cookies, but they made me think. You just met me, I’m aware, but I want to be there for you. If you let me, I will.”

You watched him breathless, absolutely taken aback by the honest aura around him. He meant every word. You barely registered that he took your hands into his again, too busy processing what he was saying, moved to tears. How much kindness and strength this man carried? How was he even real?

“Someone… something up there might be offering me a chance to fix what I messed up so badly, but it’s not guilt why I’d wish to be with you, I promise. I like you. You’ve just met me, but I already know you’re amazing. If there is a chance that maybe… maybe you could like me too, I’ll do everything to prove to you that I could be worthy of carrying the soulmark linking me to-- oh god, please don’t cry.”

You blinked, realizing that silent tears indeed started rolling down your cheeks. You stopped thinking.

You freed your hands of his hold, catching a glimpse of panic in his expression at that and then you couldn’t see his face, because you attacked him, throwing your arms around his neck, making him sway hazardously. You had a hunch that he wouldn’t have even flinched in any other case, the solid wall of muscle he was, but you took him by surprise.

The moment he steadied you both, his shaking hand went to rest flat on your lower back, his other arm curling around you in what could only feel like protectiveness. He held you a bit tighter than was decent, a barely contained tremble in his embrace. It might have even been a little painful, being squished like that, but you weren’t about to complain.

“Oh sweetheart,” he whispered softly, lowering his head to nuzzle in your hair slowly, as if he was afraid you’d withdraw with that action.

Not fucking happening.

This felt familiar.

It felt like scratching an itch you weren’t quite aware of having ever since you had woken up from the dream called Death.

It felt right.

Which made you cry harder, ironically enough. You were a mess of a woman, happy tears mixing with those of regret and shame, but Steve still held you, steadily now, his doll and sweetheart, and you felt warm and comfy and safe, pleasant sensation curling around your heart like a fluffy blanket.

“You’re already doing it,” you murmured into the fabric of his top, already damp with your tears.

“What was that?”

Why did he sound apologetic for such petty thing like not catching what you were trying to mumble, when he was being the rock to your emotional raging sea?

You cleared your throat, this time taking care to articulate like an actual human being. “You’re already doing it, Steve. You’re so nice to me, so considerate and I’m such a mess. Keep this up and I’m not gonna think but know I don’t deser-“

He squeezed you tighter in what felt like a warning and you realized that once more, you were being ridiculous. This wasn’t a competition. And if you were self-conscious about being Steve’s soulmate, worrying you might not be enough with what a mess you were, well, he didn’t need to know. God knew he probably felt the same, his past choices haunting him.

“Just… thank you, Steve. I couldn’t wish for a more amazing soulmate,” you said honestly and when he pulled you closer after that statement despite you not thinking it was possible, you sensed his gratitude.

You stayed in his comfortable embrace for a while, just breathing in, wrapped in a somehow soothing scent.

A giggle escaped you when you realized what exactly Steve must smell.

“What?” he muttered lazily, clearly enjoying the proximity as much as you were – hell, probably more, because this could be what he was used to.

“Just wondering what it’s like to be hugging a girl who smells like men’s shampoo.”

His body shook with hushed laughter in response and he eased his embrace, retreating enough to look at your still damp face. He dared to fix your hair a bit with his gentle fingers, smiling sadly.

“It’s about as surreal as seeing you in plaid,” he remarked, sparkles in his eyes, and you had to admit that yes, your choice of clothing didn’t quite suit you. This couldn’t be your usual wardrobe. “But if this is gonna be the new you, I’ll take it. I meant what I said. It really doesn’t matter what you wear or smell like, though maybe next time I’ll just lend you my things instead. I like it. I like you.”

No. Don’t. It would be really awkward to start crying again. Stop that. Nope- don’t you dare…. You closed your eyes and breathed through the burning sensation in your eyes and rather focused on the pleasant warmth pooling in your chest.

“Steve, stop turning me into a puddle of jello. You’re laying it on a bit thick here,” you whispered, mentally begging him not to stop.

He was so sweet.

And apparently was a little shit too, because the corners of his lips twitched.

“Sorry. Can’t seem to help it.”

You couldn’t but roll your eyes at the cheekiness somehow tangled in flirtation and absolute seriousness.

“It’s… not bad,” you assured him, feeling a bit self-conscious under his intent gaze. “I guess I’m just apologizing in advance if I’m not… responding the way you would wish or you’re used to. I know you said you’d take what you can get, but still—“ Upon seeing the silent warning in his eyes, you pressed your lips together to contain the babble threatening to spill out again. “Okay, shutting up now. Tell me about how exactly we met.”

“Uh-um.”

“Can we stay like this though? Please?”

You looked up at him, hopeful, your heart skipping a pleased beat as he allowed you to nestle into a less neck-breaking position, letting you to lean onto his shoulder as his lips slowly curled up in a spine-melting smile. He made space for you by moving his arm on the backrest, allowing you to rest rather against his chest than shoulder.

Yep, this was it. This was your new favourite place… your only favourite place? Never mind.

“Only if you have another cookie and finish your tea,” he teased, his fingers daring to tickle your arm lightly.

“Hard bargain, Captain,” you chuckled, but obediently reached for not one, but two cookies, offering the other to him.

He accepted it with a smile. “Deal with it.”

“Oh, gladly. Now spill…”

༻༺༻༺༻ღ༺༻༺༻༺

Steve talked for a long time, smoothly moving to different stories of you two after the meet-cute; and there was no mistaking it, it had been a meet-cute, sweet and a little embarrassing.

His narrative was surprisingly detailed – he remembered what the weather was like, what you were wearing, little things about Ryan, who was apparently your best friend. It should sadden you, all the things you forgot, but with the way he was talking it was as if you were there.

Simultaneously, the sharpness of his memories broke your heart – it only showed just how important those moments were to him. And you knew nothing of them.

Despite being intrigued by the stories and curious about what Steve had to say, you soon found yourself dozing off. You blamed the strange familiarity, Steve’s soothing timbre and the gentle warm embrace that instinctively made you feel safe and at home. You didn’t think he realized he started rubbing your arm in tender periodic motions, slipping into what he actually knew – unlike you – way too easily.

“Steve, should I send the Winchesters who brought her here to a hotel for the day?” a low voice asked, sounding from too much of a distance for you to bother opening your eyes.

“Unless Tony lets them stay. Tell them we’ll pay all of their expenses and not to worry about her. I promise to take care of her and not to let her out of my sight,” an equally hushed voice replied.

“As you wish.”

Your body felt too heavy, yet like belonging to someone else, your mind floating above it. You couldn’t move. You felt the change as you were being moved, warmth of another body replaced by soft cushions and a thick blanket smelling of comfort and home was tucked around you. A soft brush against your forehead and a light weight over the comforter in one particular spot on your arm.

“They don’t seem assured, Steve. They say they’ll wait for you so you could talk.”

“Okay. Thanks for letting me know, Jarvis. I’ll see them in a minute.”

You were far too gone into the dreamland to know just how long Steve sat beside you on the mattress, his hand on you to make sure you were truly here in his bed, no matter how little you remembered, silent tears of happiness and a pained smile never leaving his face.

You were only aware of your dreams being sweet, tasting of peanut butter and cherry flavoured black tea.

༻༺༻༺༻ღ༺༻༺༻༺

Steve was a bundle of nerves and heavy emotions by the time he finally forced himself to leave her bedside. It was one of the hardest things he ever had to do – both leaving her and spending the better part of the afternoon and evening with her.

He was… less cautious than he should have been from the very moment she walked into his room with Natasha at her heels, he was aware of that, but just seeing a person that looked exactly like her to very last freckle on the side of her neck was like a punch to his solar plexus; seeing her walking, talking and breathing was making his chest ache and as much as he wanted to believe from the start, he forced himself to be just a tiny bit cautious.

It all went out of the window the moment she said the words written on his collarbone. She was alive. His beautiful, sweet soulmate was alive and well, and nearly perfect.

Steve knew it was profane and that he should be grateful for such miracle; he was, God, how grateful he was and he was willing to do everything if it only meant she would stay, but meeting with her gaze, still admiring and curious, but not adoring as it used to be, not so full of tender love, because she had no real memory of him, broke his heart to tiniest pieces, shattered it just like he did to the mirror when finding his new words.

She didn’t remember him. He was her soulmate to her still – but a stranger. When she threw herself around his neck eventually, the sensation was as bitter as sweet. Steve belonged to her – he was so entirely hers with every bit of his very being – but she wasn’t his.

It made him swallow thickly as he leaned onto the wall by the door to his room, unable to summon the strength to deal with the men who had brought her back to him.

He was honestly grateful – beyond words, actually – and his actions towards her were genuine, every word true, every single of his smiles, her presence truly making him happy, but by God, there was a lot of pain he had to swallow whenever she asked him something about them and he was confronted with her amnesia once more.

Confronted with him being nothing to her.

Steve didn’t know how long it took him to actually emerge from his position, his eyes burning with fresh tears, but when he entered the common room and a snarky male voice welcomed him, he knew it was longer than it should have.

“Well, look who it is. The great man himself,” the shorter man of whom Steve assumed was Dean exclaimed and it caused both the other hunter – Sam, Steve recalled – and Bruce, who kept the brothers company, massage the bridge of their nose tiredly.

Steve sighed and nodded politely as the brothers stood up from the couch. Bruce had clearly dined them with a take-out judging by the boxes on the table, which Steve was grateful for. He mentally noted to thank his friend later.

“Dean Winchester, I presume,” he croaked, wincing and clearing his throat at the pathetic sound it released.

The sandy-haired man quirked up. “I see my reputation precedes me. Good. Because, you see, I’m a big fan. Really. You’re doing an A+ plus work, most of the time. But something happens to Nat--- ugh, you know who I mean – on your watch again, I’ll find you, skin you and make sure your soul never finds rest.”

“Dean…”

Steve only nodded at the threat, ignoring the scolding look the taller hunter gave his brother.

“What he meant to say was: nice to meet you, I hope it went well. She… uhm, she is your soulmate, right? You exchanged the right words?” Sam asked kindly, his eyes compassionate and inviting.

Steve smiled tightly, ignoring the knot in his stomach and deliberately passed on the unspoken question if it did go well. He assumed it had, but… well.

“Yes,” he whispered softly, offering the man a hand to shake, which was instantly accepted. “We did. Thank you for bringing her here. Keeping her safe. Taking care of her. I already asked Jarvis – we’ll make sure to pay any expanses-“

“Alright, stop with the speech, Captain. We did what he had to – what we wanted to. She’s a good kid. She deserves the best, though she wasn’t always willing to accept that as a fact. If you want to help guys with little money, that would be nice. But we’re not bounty hunters or some shit. You’re not paying us for her,” Dean stated, sending a white lightning of rage though Steve’s body at his implication.

She was not a merchandise to order and have delivered. She was a human being. Steve was very much aware of that.

He took a deep breath to tell the man what an inappropriate comment he had made. “Mr. Winchester-“

“Oh god, don’t ever call me that again. And relax. Please. I’m not totally serious. Calm your tits.”

“Captain Rogers, I apologize for my Neanderthal of a brother. He grew rather protective of your soulmate as did I. I assume she’s asleep-“ Sam interjected again with his diplomatic talk and Steve forced the indignation aside, trying to remember he was beyond grateful. He only nodded once more. “Good. We thought to stay in town in case she needed anything. We left a small bag for her, but she doesn’t have much, she’s modest. Had a little trouble eating, worrying about spending our money. Please, make sure she eats.”

A sharp pang hit Steve’s chest when hearing another implication of her doubting her worth. He had a lot of work to do. He was going to spoil her. So much. As much as she let him and just a tiny bit more. She always seemed to have a weak spot in the form of his pleading eyes, she was a pleaser and Steve would be very much pleased to give her everything. All of his things, all of him.

“Thank you for telling me. I’ll look out for that. Hopefully, she’ll let me.”

“Good. You do that. She just needs a little push sometimes,” the older brother smirked and finally shook Steve’s hand too, possibly going for tighter grip than necessary. Good tactics that didn’t quite work on a supersoldier, but Steve met his gaze to hint him he received his message again clearly.

Hurt her and you’re a dead man.

Steve felt the same about everyone.

“Now, she has our number and we should probably hit the hay. Before we leave though…” Dean hesitated and the sudden lack of snark surprised even Bruce, who released his head from his hands as he had rested his elbows on his knees, sitting on the couch, embarrassed for their guests; he looked up curiously as Dean continued.

“Can I have an autograph? I really am a huge fan…. And I’d love to touch the shield.”

༻༺༻༺༻ღ༺༻༺༻༺

Part 17

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Thank you for reading, lovlies, and if you happen to leave ♥ or/and comments, reblog... thank you for that too :-*

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holy-stevie · 4 years

Text

His Sunflower

Pairing: Chris Evans x female reader

Summary: Chris loved you, his sunflower, so much. But sometimes fate has other ideas.

Warnings: ANGST, death, brief suggestive themes like really brief, fluff, oh did i mention angst?

a/n: This is my entry for @captain-rogers-beard Flex your writing muscles challenge!

Please do not repost my work anywhere else!

Sunflowers, they were one of the most popular flowers. Exchanged between lovers and friends, drawn into intricate artworks, stitched into clothing, tattooed onto people’s skin. They were everywhere one could look, splayed out into the world for people’s enjoyment. A sign of happiness to many, especially him. Because she was his sunflower, his source of happiness in the disappointing world.

You had met him at a playground, out of all places. He was running around with his niece, running from her with a big goofy smile on his face as she laughed evilly chasing him. You had been kneeling down tying your brother’s shoelace when he ran straight into you, causing an awkward mess of limbs and frantic apologies as the two children laughed at the two of you. Even to this day he swears that this moment was the moment that he knew you were the most radiating person he would ever meet, it never failed to make you scrunch up your nose and shrug him off.

“I am so so sorry.” He apologises frantically, his hands lifting you off the ground gently. You can’t help the light giggle that escapes your mouth, he looked so adorable with his hand rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

“They really are little demons huh?” You giggle again motioning to the two kids that were laughing with each other, your brother sticking his tongue out at you when he catches your stare. He chuckles lightly as Stella, his niece, teases him. He turns back to you, taking in your appearance with a light smile before sticking his hand out in welcoming.

“I’m Chris, and that’s Stella.” He introduces, you smile as you take his hand lightly.

“The name’s Y/n, this little monster is Luke.” You smile, a smile that would become his favourite sight in the world. And that small encounter was the day that he met the love of his life, his sunflower. Neither of you would have ever thought that such a beautiful and strong relationship would start from that little moment.

The first time Chris called you his sunflower was three months later, a month after the two of you had officially started dating. You were both relaxing at his house in Boston, Chris was typing away on his computer with dodger laying at his feet, tired out from running around with you for a few hours. You were sitting off to his left in a patch of sunlight peaking through the glass doors that were open to let the breeze roll through the house, you were finger painting of all things.

“You’re my sunflower.” He says simply after watching you for a few minutes, watching your tongue poke out the side of your mouth as you concentrated on finding a way to make your painting make sense. You raised an eyebrow as you met his gaze, scrunching your nose adorably in confusion, an expression that was one of his favourites.

“Cliché much?” You say even though there’s a light blush on your cheeks from the way he’s looking at you. He puts his laptop onto the table before getting up and plopping down next to you dramatically, making you giggle as he puts his hand on his forehead.

“Breaking my heart here sunflower.” He grins up at you goofily as you groan in mock disgust, you move your painting out of the way before you settle yourself in his lap, ignoring your paint covered fingers as you wind your fingers through his shirt.

“If I’m your sunflower that means you’re my sun, drawing my attention to you the second that glorious ass rises every day.” You tease, he throws his head back with laughter as you attempt to give his behind a tap but are unable to as he’s sitting on the floor. He grins as you lean your forehead against his lightly, the both of you taking a minute to appreciate the feeling of holding each other.

After that day he always calls you it, you hear it more than your own name. You always have a smile on your face as he calls you his sunflower, sure he uses other pet names, but sunflower is the one that means the most to the two of you. Even when the two of you were fighting he would use it, not letting you ever forget that you were his sweet sunflower.

Three years later the two of you stand wrapped in each other’s arms, sway side to side as a slow song plays, your friends and family watching with smiles and laughs as the newlywed couple have their first dance together. The both of you had sweet smiles adorning your faces as you took in each other, now as Mr. and Mrs. Evans.

“You look so beautiful sunflower.” He whispers gently, tears forming in his eyes for what seems like the hundredth time that day. You smile brightly, the smile that he has engrained in his mind forever and raise to the tips of your toes to press a soft kiss against his beared cheek.

“I think sunflower has a new contender, Mrs. Evans has a nice ring to it.” You say, resting your head against his shoulder still looking up at him as he chuckles lightly before leaning down to nibble lightly on your ear.

“Guess we’ll find that out later my love.” You shiver at the meaning behind his words before gigging lightly, giving him a little wink.

“I love you.” You say with a grin, never getting tired of saying those three words over and over.

“I love you too sunflower.” He mumbles, the tears rising in his eyes once again making you smile giddily and kissing him.

Now he sits alone, the world around him seems dark and lonely, not carrying a single hint of the light it used to. He twirls a flower in his hand, the stem almost broken into two from the constant twirling of his fingers. The sun went down hours ago, dark and stormy clouds taking its place, matching his life.

The said it was accident, could have happened to anyone on the road at that time. They told him that there was nothing he could do to save her from the drunken idiot driving down the wrong side of the road, nothing he could have done to stop her from swerving and hitting the tree. They said he need to grieve and process that she was gone, but he couldn’t.

He couldn’t save her, he couldn’t be there in her last few minutes of agonising pain. He couldn’t go back and tell her not to get in the car, he couldn’t bring her back to his arms where she belonged. He couldn’t stop the crushing depression that her death gifted him with, the sleepless nights spent sobbing endlessly into her pillow. He couldn’t get out of bed and take care of himself, he couldn’t even be anything but an empty shell anymore.

He had been sitting in front of the newly made gravestone for hours, the funereal had ended hours ago, his family trying and failing to comfort him. He couldn’t take his eyes off the flower twirling in-between his fingers, provided to him by Luke with a watery frown.

He had avoided the flowers since that day, the mere thought of them making him dry heave over a toilet bowl for hours and he sobbed uselessly. They all looked lifeless, dead and rotten. It was as if they knew she was gone too, one of their own taken away. The sunflower in his hand had been limp for a while now, the brightness from it gone. When he looks down at it he presses his lips together tightly to keep the sob trapped in his throat, he needed to go home. He needed to leave his sunflower.

With a sharp inhale he stands, only to drop to a knee in the fresh dirt holding the love of his life. He shakily lays the sunflower in the middle of the dirt pile, the flowers petals so limp that they match the colour of the dirt. He squeezes his eyes shut tightly as he retracts his hand, clenching into a tight fist in his pocket as he stands up again.

“I love you sunflower, no matter what you’ll always be my sunflower.” He says, his voice scratchy and void of any of the colour it once held. With a final glance he turns away. The broken shell of a man that he is walks away slowly, almost turning back to cry in a pile by her side. He slowly makes his way to his mother’s car, she waited for him this entire time not wanting him to be alone. He gets in the car without a word, watching the sunflower as the car pulls away from where it had been parked. Getting the last glimpse of his sunflower, his happiness.

Taglist: @scarletsoldierrr @chrisevans-imagines @patzammit

#flex your writing muscles challenge #chris evans x reader #chris evans #angst #sunflowers #photo prompt #did i mention angst #fluff

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helahades · 3 years

Text

the sexiest wip list

alright! reminder that this is a dark fic blog. dark fics are not just noncon, but uncomfortable subject matter and questionable thought processes and unreliable povs. control your media experience and read warnings carefully! they’ll be updated when the actual story releases, but these are wips, and i don’t know them all bc I simply have not finished these stories!

some darker warnings on this list include: threats of sexual violence, obsession, death, and previously mentioned unreliable povs from obsessive characters who justify themselves.

final reminder to read warnings! some of these are intense.

1) Jealous Thor (Untitled)

warnings: cheating, mean!reader, angst

You’re falling for Steve right under his nose. Each day, Thor feels you pull farther away. Each night, he squeezes his eyes shut as you lie asleep next to him, and tries to forget the way you lookat Steve these days with hunger and adoration that you once gave to him.

“He is earthly. For all his body’s and mind’s possession of unnatural experimental growth, he is earthly and limited, so Thor can’t understand why you’re drawing away from him, and telling Steve the jokes, giving Steve all the looks that had him hooked. The lingering eyes and touches… they ride the line of decency.”

—

2) Heimdall Angst (Untitled)

warnings: major character death, grief, existentialism, out of body experiences

Connected by incredible wisdom and duty to fate, you and The Gatekeeper of Asgard are pulled together by the unique pairing of your mutual seeing abilities—made for greatness, and destined for tragedy.

This story stretches from the moment that catalyzes your meeting, across the years of loving him, to the moment you lose him.

“A fateful tragedy. He sees an arrow through a dove.

He wonders how he missed your encounter with him in the whispers of the cosmos.

“—They’re star deaths,” you say abruptly, “the ones that move and change color. They speed up when you watch them—show their whole life to come...I read about them. Most can’t ever see them life this”.

Turning to where you stand beside him, his eyes swirl with the magic of knowing you, of your destinies combined. He sees you stare at his stars like they’re new.

“Only us.”

—

3) Away from the Party - Steve Smut

warnings: smut, dubcon, roughness, manipulation, unintentional exhibition

Steve hates these parties. After a mission, the work has just begun, and he fumes at the impossible way that Tony covers all problems in diamonds and pearls. Some things aren’t meant to be pretty.

You are. You’re soft, and kind, and you coax him gently away from the party—the source of his frustrations, with promises of leaving early, of calming down. Oh. He’ll calm down. And you’re just the toy to help. In a closet a corner away from the government’s finest, America’s golden boy has a hand on your throat and one demand.

“Keep quiet.”

“Of course, you both ended up at the party anyway, but with you swirling cool fingertips at his aching temples and rubbing softly over the stretch marks on his chest, he couldn’t find anything in heart to disagree with you then.

Even now with his erection pressed to you through barriers of clothing, with scarcely retrained and monstrous lust, he is steadily calmed by your presence. This rush, the secrecy—it excites him. And you pull him through the haze of it.”

—

4) Monster Thor Headcanons

warnings: wound and gore descriptions, some sadness

The fantasy of it all. Aesthetic, Lifestyle, Behavior. Some talking points include: hair, horns, hints about how he was influenced by a soft and charming lover many years ago, general horniness. Also spoiler that I’ve decided that He is 8ft tall

“Thor is...ancient. he is a being of war and folklore and raw energy and he’s earthy and elemental and connected. and form follows function. (and also whatever horny thoughts we want )”

—

5) The Call

warnings: voyeurism, death threats, obsession, implied sexual assault threats

When Frank comes to visit you, you beam like a sunflower. You’ve rearranged your room, and you’re excited about it. He would like to revel in the moment with you...but he’s caught up in one detail. Your bed is pushed against the window...and he can’t convince you to let him move it.

After a night of sin and wild lovemaking, you lie asleep bathed in moonlight, and Frank wakes to a call. Billy. He’s set up on a rooftop miles away, and he’s got things to say about Frank’s girl and what he’d like to do to her. A red dot on his chest means he can only listen. To your gentle snoring, and to the twisted fantasy of a brother unhinged.

“Black silk pajamas. Hair wrapped up in satin. Yellow light almost like sun stretches to the ceiling, but not quite over the rolling hills of your silhouette turned away from him in quiet sleep.

Frank’s hardly got the time to wonder why he’s awake, because his phone buzzes slow again. Pulls the moment he realizes he will have to break this magic peace to molasses and he half fills his lungs before huffing it out and flipping the phone open and tucked between his ear and shoulder.

“What.”

“She’s a reaaaaal pretty one, Frankie boy. You sure know how to pick em.”

—

6) Loki Longing (Untitled)

warnings: pregnant!fem reader, angst

On the Eve of the birth of Asgard’s heir, Thor is away. In a bath of flowers and magic to ease your pain, maidens worry over you, and Loki rescues you away, letting you rest in bed, and dreaming of the days when you were his lover instead.

“I’d like to rest…in my bed now, please.”

The ladies look to each other. It hasn’t been long enough for the herbs to take effect.

“My Queen,” the eldest starts—

“She is certainly your queen,” a silky silver timbre interrupts, “I’ve learned it’s best to mind her.”

His eyes fall to your form, and some blocked conflict—some guarded affection rests there. Some longing tucked in a pocket like an impossible secret.

—

7) With Child - Obsessive Steve

warnings: pregnant!fem reader, obsessive Steve

Watching you content, and very pregnant, as you gaze adoringly at your husband Thor from where you rest, half in his lap, Steve can’t help but fantasize. He thinks about impregnating you, the mechanics of sex with a pregnant woman, and being the god who does it all.

“Do you have to lie on your side? Is Thor just behind you, spooning you, fucking with desperate thrusts because you drive him so crazy this way? Steve has heard—and he doesn’t know where—that women get wetter when with child. Steve can’t help but wonder...does Thor need to hold one leg up for you—to save your back that’s so often heavy with the weight of supporting his legacy?”

—

8) Dean’s Girl

warnings: unreliable pov (john), voyeurism, masturbation + voyeurism

John notices the way you avoid him. You always seem to leave a room just as he’s coming into it. He’s living in the bunker now, and having to realize a lot of things that have changed for the both of his sons.

For example, his oldest, the last he’d ever think would fall in love, has got a pretty girl that dismisses her practical father in law with pointed boredom. She’s protective—how can he blame her after all that he’d put Dean through?

She’s pretty, and John is only a man, and can’t stop himself from just...looking. It starts with a convenient bend as she unloads the dishwasher...then he..can’t help that the door was open and she happened to be changing right there. He also can’t help it the next time when he’s just a little too obvious, pleasuring himself to the smell of her pretty lace panties.

—

9) Operator, Operator - Steve Smut

warnings: smut, financial troubles?, mentions of creepiness against and danger to sex workers, exhibitionism via phone call

Underpaid and overworked, you along with your roommate/secret crush/ best friend Steve have trouble making ends meet on minimum wage + his art commissions. When you start picking up calls on a phone sex line, he’s able to reason. It’s quick cash, and Steve is mature enough to keep his thoughts appropriate...at first.

One day, he wakes to the sound of breathy moans and a faked orgasms. He wonders how you would sound if only you were high on real pleasure...and there’s no time like the present. Don’t hang up. This call has only just started.

“By the time this year—junior year—swung around, Steve realized he was only catching glimpses of you. He would hear the shake of your keys when you tossed them on the counter, your backpack when it thudded to the floor, and most recently—your moans.

You must not know he’s home. Ever since you started online sex work, specifically being a phone sex operator, you seemed to also make the silent choice that more graphic calls would be saved for when he’s not around.

He gets it. You both split the rent, and Steve has done jobs he’d rather not mention in desperate times, when commissions came short. Still, sometimes you can’t tell when he’s here, and despite his best efforts to push down his arousal, to tell himself you’re his best friend...he’s an artist, and he can’t help but listen, and certainly not the wandering of his imagination.”

—

10) Professor Steve Medfet - (Untitled)

In an alternate timeline, a washed up Steve Rogers starts a new life in a run down city as an art / anatomy teacher. A class of hungry college students is filled to the brim each year, expecting the unspoken promise of their favorite hands on lab. You.

You keep his class sated, in turn giving the professor job security for funding his simple life out of the public eye. Each year when he calls, you come. Each year the students find a new way to tear you embarrass and degrade, much to the pleasure of the professor.

“Same speech. Same meaningless words. Focusing on the stillness of your skin and how it feels to be alone, you can almost drown out the way his tone edges toward excitement, the way the chairs shift and squeak—the anticipation.

Pretending your heart doesn’t send heat and cold flashes through you and run your breathing shallow, you look at the nicks in the door and try to guess their stories.

But then the metal frame clicks, the door unlatches. Professor Rogers wears a gentle smirk. It doesn’t ease your mind one bit.”

—

11) Swelter - Forest God Thor

warnings: sexual scenes, time limited conflict, religious themes

With a sickness overtaking nearby villages, yours is next, and has decided to sacrifice you to the cause of foraging for preventative herbs. You venture into the ancient woods after a rare vine of flowers, but leave with much more after encountering Thor.

After disturbing him where he lies cooling in the bank of a stream, you vow to prove the true intention of your soul—that you aren’t a hunter, or witch after his form or faculty, but a pious girl, also needing to escape the heat.

“You’re in the old woods now, and aside from the trees and the mossy nature tangled around them, there is only Him. Thor.

God of the harvest, bringer of land’s wealth, fertility, and vitality. You know of the sacrifices, of the woods where He is rumored to live in an unseen form, of livid white fire in the sky if He is severely displeased.

His name must not be spoken outside of prayer or ritual, and even now, you stutter to think it, and wonder if you are alone in your thoughts.”

[...]

“The frustration and the fear in your dilemma disturb the air, disquieting the otherwise enduring peace of the old woods, which rouses a large form in the cool muddy bank of the stream. It is only leaves shifting at first. Faded pumpkin and dried oak scatter—and suddenly the air smells like rain and your mouth sets around the tastes of copper and sage. Then, the leaves tumble off of a beast of a mass that rises slowly, and you note that it felt like the atmosphere changed to accommodate its awakening.”

—

12) Halloween Party - Thor Smut (Untitled)

warnings: smut, heartbreak, depressed!reader

An exclusive and mysterious Halloween party is still on this year—and you’re invited. It’s meant to be so extravagant and flashy an Avenger will one day attend, and all attendees decorate themselves in costumes inspired by the heroes, hoping to be noticed.

Fresh after a breakup with your boyfriend Brock, you take one half of the preordered couples costume and dress up as a goddess, determined to have a good night with your friends, find some excitement, and most importantly, a new god to match.

“Standing solemn, floor to ceiling windows allow in a few milky rays reflected by the moon, but they’re all the gems of your bodice need to gleam to a suitor's eye. Tonight, while you plan to rid your soul of another, you are welcomed with open arms and careful consideration as the final offering at an altar. You are seen by a god.”

—

13) Grief

warnings: dead!reader, guilt, grief, scary science, how do i say this... smut that is borderline necroph—there’s a replica of you, dark!steve, tony lives, pepper dies

Steve’s world is upside down. He’s lost the light of his life, and is completely in the dark. Luckily for him, Tony is back in the business of reality rejecting technology, and has found a way for him to be with you again.

At an abandoned cottage, Steve brings an armful of your scents to give the Tony’s invention sensory data, and faces the strange reality of what’s always been his worst stage...his worst trait. Denial.

“Dozens of test bottles full of manufactured scents, the kind of thing you smell borrowing a sweater, or with your face in the crook of someone’s neck. Essentially, the sort of organic thing that cannot be recaptured.

Steve’s got an armful of perfume and body wash. Of conditioner and deodorant, of all the elements he can think that make you smell the way you would—the way you do.

He wills the thoughts to be present tense. If he pretends you are alive, maybe it will look like it is you only sleeping. He wonders how well Tony knows the texture of your hair suddenly, because if it isn’t right, the experience will fall to shambles. It currently walks a plank over shambles. One wrong interpretation or surprise, and Steve will find himself spinning and burning with the fall into a new and uncharted taboo.”

14) Night Drive - Dean Smut

warnings: road head

On a long overnight drive, your back pressed into the seat of the impala makes you miss lying in bed with your lover, makes you miss his gentle caress right next to you...so you remind him how good it is to be close.

“You think about it when he hums a little tune. When he hums the song he wishes would play and thinks will come up next, it is eerily soft, and eerily similar to the soft contentment he sighs when you kiss on his neck.

When he reaches for your hand to hold, it makes you consider the shortness of the distance between you, and you think of pulling his cock out right here, giving him head that melts him here on this endless road.

Looking at him, he senses your interest—he turns his head to meet your eyes, throws up a grin of boyish charm. He’s happy to be here with you. These night drives are fine. He’s never minded them. But they’re even lovelier when in your company.”

—

15) Shadow - The Bucky Mystery

warnings: stalking, injury, sexual assault, canon typical hydra torture, mentions of bucky being forced to assault people, traumatized reader

On the run from Hydra, there aren’t many things that Bucky can remember. Inside his mind, there aren’t many feelings that make sense. Mostly, he feels guilt. Horror.

Following you to the gym where you practice ballet alone in the nights is all that makes sense, and for reasons he can’t explain, he feels drawn to you.

As time goes on, Bucky feels more enticed by his desire, you start to feel eyes staring from the walls, motivations and traumas are revealed, and in a horrible symphony, you both remember your connection.

“He’s a matte shadow against the noir shine of metal walls—an observer in the unlit quiet on his side of the room.

And he feels his unimportance. It’s humbling. Holds up the room like chunky beams and high rafters, dressed in the same layered neutrals. Framing the same cotton candy dancer, silent as the pad of her slippers when she turns her weight onto a straight leg, other coming up with her ankle pointed to the bend of her knee.

She spins, she spins and she whips her head around with each one, but it’s Bucky who gets dizzy.”

send an ask with any questions, or for more details about a particular story!

#which wip #follower poll #future fic hints #update

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whatcouldgowrong-ohthat · 4 years

Text

Between the Ink and Papers Ch. 5

Summary: Steve and Peggy have been divorced for a year and Sarah is still starting to find her groove in it. However, it becomes a lot easier when she and Typhanie realize it might be time for her dad to start dating again.

Pairings: tattooartist!dad!Steve x Reader, Typhanie x Sarah, Peggy x Logan, Bucky x Natasha

Word Count: 2095 words

Warnings: Snarky Steve! And a bit of angst? Because there’s a fight...it happens...But I don’t know if I would count it as angst??

Between the Ink and Papers Masterlist - Masterlist to Other Works

Previous Chapter

---

Three parents and one counselor. The tension was…exhausting. And they’d only been here a minute. Oh, what Y/N would give to kick all three of them out. “So…” She looked from the married couple to the single dad. “Since this is Mr. Roger’s first meeting, who wants to play catch up?” Y/N opened her drawer, pulling out a file.

More silence.

Y/N glanced from one parent to the other. Her fingers ran over the papers. How was it these three adults managed to act less mature than the students she worked with?

“Okay.” She closed the file. “We’re not doing this.”

Peggy frowned. “Ms. Y/L/N – “

“No. I need honesty from all three of you. Clearly Mr. Rogers wasn’t informed of our meetings and I don’t appreciate the lies.” She grabbed her mug, running her thumb over the lip. Leaning back in her chair, she reminded them, “I’m not on any parents’ side in this matter. I am here helping Sarah. Remember? The girl who didn’t talk for two months.” She looked at Peggy and Logan. “The one who ran away when she found out you two were dating. I’m here to help her. Okay?”

Steve barely managed to contain his smile, glancing from her to his ex-wife. As much as he enjoyed seeing Y/N call her out, he was curious about Sarah. “How’s she doing?” He sat back in his chair, intertwining his hands.

“She’s making a lot of headway. Her grades have improved and teachers say she’s interacting in class again. The thing I really want to focus on is the anger. I’m still working on getting her to journal, but I think that if she starts writing down her emotions, then it will help her learn to process those feelings.”

Steve frowned, adjusting in his seat. He looked at Peggy and Logan. What was she talking about? He’d seen moments when Sarah had reacted, sure, but he wouldn’t say she had any sort of anger problem. “What’s she talking about?”

“Sarah still hasn’t warmed up to me being in the picture.”

Steve snorted, a wry smile curving his lips. “A year and still nothing. That just might be because she doesn’t like you, Logan.”

“Can we please not do this, you two?”

“Why not?” Steve shrugged. “You left me for him. And I kept your secret. It’s not my fault that Sarah seems to think it’s still a bad idea.”

Logan hated how all of this went down. He and Steve used to be friends. Good friends. And he wanted to get back to that, but it seemed impossible. “Steve, c’mon. Can’t we just fix this?“

“How would you recommend doing that?” Steve laughed. This was unbelievable that Logan thought it was such an easy fix. “Seriously, I’m curious.”

“Hey.” Y/N waved a hand, determined to get their attention. “Hello? This…” She gestured to the three. “This isn’t my expertise. And honestly? Seeing this? A lot of things make so much more sense.”

Peggy frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“She isn’t an idiot. She can see how you three behave and she mirrors it.” Y/N sighed. “If you want her to stop focusing on the negatives in this situation, you three have to learn how to see eye to eye.”

What Y/N had to say stayed with Steve even as he left the school. How much of a brave face had his daughter been putting up? Why did he feel so in the dark?

“Hey, man, you alright?”

Steve blinked. He realized he had zoned out and that Sam had been trying to get his attention. “Sorry.” He ran a hand over his face, trying to push past those negative thoughts. He had to get out of his head. If he didn’t, talking to Sarah about it would be a disaster.

“Where’s your head at?”

Steve looked towards Sam. He was grilling, getting ready for their monthly barbeque where everyone got together. It was one of their favorite events.

And yet Steve wasn’t excited.

He glanced at his beer, taking a much needed drink. “I found out that Peggy and Logan have been meeting with Sarah’s counselor.” Another drink. “Apparently it’s been going on for a while.”

Sam paused. He couldn’t believe he heard that right. “And you never went?”

“I didn’t know about it. Peg never told me.”

With that, Sam reached for his own beer. He shook his head. “Damn.”

“Yeah. So now I’m learning my kid has anger issues and it’s because she sees the tension between all three of us.”

Sam chuckled. “She’s always been passionate, Steve. Anger isn’t exactly surprising.”

“I never see her like that, Sam. She’s my wild child, sure, but I’ve never had a reason to think she’s angry.”

He nodded. Steve was a good dad. To hear he was missing a chunk of his kid’s life…Sam couldn’t imagine the guilt he was feeling. “She’s swimming right now, doesn’t she? Head over there. You can talk then instead of having her meet everyone here.”

“You don’t mind if I skip helping you this time around?”

Sam snorted. “What help were you? Staring off into space and risking my ribs burning?” He took another swig, his smile almost splitting his face in two. “Get out of here. She’s your kid, Rogers. I know how much you love her. She needs to know too.”

Steve grabbed his jacket. “Thanks, Sammy.’

“Yeah, yeah.” He watched Steve leave just as Typhanie poked her head outside. “Hey, kid. Wanna help out?”

Her nose scrunched as she looked at the grill. She hated that thing. “I’ll stick with picking the music.”

He chuckled as he listened to the back door close. Pouting to himself, he started to dramatically sing, “I’m all alone…There’s no one here beside me…”

The smell of chlorine was overwhelming. Enough to make a person’s head spin and then some. But Steve wasn’t paying it any mind. He listened to the rush of water. Kids were laughing, heading to the showers. Steve moved out of their way. He was careful walking on the drenched floor, stepping into the indoor swimming pool. He was just in time too, catching a glimpse of Sarah’s reverse twist off the diving board.

The door closed behind him just as she met the water. She took off like a speeding bullet. Unable to look away, Steve took a seat on the bleachers. His thigh brushed her backpack, knocking it over. It hit the metal with a loud thud and he winced.

“Fuck,” he hissed. Gathering it up, he noticed the journal Y/N had mentioned. It was opened, today’s date scribbled in the corner and no passage. He closed his eyes, tucking it into her backpack before zipping it shut. She really was struggling.

He looked back to the water. She’d already reached the end of the pool, twisting and turning to finish the lap. Always so strong. Steve was amazed by her abilities.

However, when she finished the lap and took her goggles off, she was shocked to see him there. “Dad?” She lifted herself out of the pool, immediately grabbing her towel. Her eyes shifted to the clock hanging on the wall. “I’m not supposed to be out of here for like…twenty more minutes. Everything okay?”

Steve chuckled. She was always so curious. Always had to understand everything. But then his amusement fell short. Was it because she was naturally inquisitive? Or was it because of what he and Peggy had put her through?

“I thought I could pick you up this time.”

Sarah snorted. “You realize we’re walking either way, right?” She started using the towel to dry her hair. When he raised a brow at her attitude, she winced. “Sorry. I just wasn’t expecting you.”

Steve shook his head. “It’s fine. I get it. Um…actually – “

She raised a brow, mirroring the look he had just given her. “So there was a reason.”

“I saw your counselor at school today.”

Sarah nodded. “Cool.”

Steve watched her carefully. She seemed so…fine. Was she really so good at hiding it? “Did you know your mom and Logan were meeting with her?”

“Yup.”

Steve clenched his jaw. She knew. She knew and she didn’t say anything. She didn’t offer for him to go. Nothing. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Sarah shrugged. “I thought you knew. Besides, you’re not the parent struggling here. I guess I just didn’t think it was that big of a deal.”

“Sarah, it is a big deal. You’re my kid. I want to know what’s going on in your life.”

“You know I’ve been going to therapy. Hell, if it was that big of a deal, you could have gone at any time. You didn’t need to wait until you got invited.”

“That’s not the point, Sarah. I didn’t even know the fucking meetings existed.”

Sarah grabbed her backpack, looking down at him as he desperately looked at her. “If they didn’t, would we be having this conversation?”

Steve faltered. Did he hear that right? “What are you talking about?”

“If Mom and Logan weren’t meeting with Miss Y/L/N, would we be having this conversation? Would you even care?”

“Of course I would! I care about you. I always have. You’re my kid.”

Sarah groaned. Her jaw ticked, shoulders tensing. Taking a slow, determined breath, she clarified, “I didn’t say that. I know you care and I know you love me. I’m asking if you would care about what Miss Y/L/N has to say. Would you have taken the initiative to start those meetings yourself?”

Oh. Steve had never looked at it like that.

Glancing at his fists, he shook his head. “No. You’ve always seemed…fine.”

“Yeah. Because I am. I’m not great and I’m not bad. I’m fucking fine.”

“Sarah, don’t talk to me like that. I’m still your dad.”

“Then believe me.” Sarah scoffed. “We’re only having this conversation because it looks like Mom got one up on you.”

“That’s not true.”

“No? Then what is it? Why? Because I don’t understand.”

“Because you’re angry!” His voice bellowed, bouncing off the walls as he rose to his feet. He wasn’t trying to scare her. He was just frustrated. Still, she took a step back. And he hated that. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled. I…I’m sorry.”

Sarah shrugged. “It’s okay.”

With a soft sigh, Steve elaborated. “Your counselor says you have this anger inside you…and I had no idea. You’re keeping things from me.”

“Or it just doesn’t exist when I’m with you!” She hadn’t meant to snap, but damn it. Everything was hitting her at once. All her emotions. Everything she got to ignore when she stayed with her dad, she was having to face it now. Sarah threw her bag into the bleachers, jumping only from how loud it was. “Fuck! I – “

“Language, Sarah.”

She scowled. Her shoulders set, she slowed her speech. That attitude of hers was slipping through, as if she were having to talk down to someone. “I had no reason to be angry around you.”

“Don’t talk to me like that.”

“Then stop belittling me.” Sarah glared at him. Tears were in her eyes and Steve felt his heart crack. He couldn’t remember the last time he was the cause of her tears. Not because of a conversation. He reached for her, but she took a step back. “I love staying with you.” She knew Y/N would be happy at least. She was letting it all out. Using her words. “I hate that I can only visit every other week. I hate Logan. I hate his entire existence. There are some days that I wish he would die. That’s how I feel every day I’m at Mom’s. But because you’re a tattoo artist who doesn’t make enough income for two fucking bedrooms, I’m stuck there. I’m stuck living a miserable life that I hate!”

Silence.

It was so painful. So ugly. He had never…never heard her speak like that. Not to him.

“Sarah…”

She grabbed her backpack, tears slipping down her cheeks. “I’m getting a shower.”

“Sarah – “

He reached for her, but Sarah jerked away from him, clinging to both towel and backpack. “Just go.” She wiped her nose on her arm, ignoring the burn of chlorine in her nostrils. “I’ll meet you at Sam’s.”

Steve watched her storm off, tears threatening to spill. He closed his eyes, hating the way the door slammed between them.

Fuck.

He should’ve stayed at Sam’s. He should’ve…He should’ve done that differently.

How am I going to fix this?

---

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#steve x reader #steve x y/n #steve rogers #marvel #marvel au #mcu #dad!steve x reader #tattooartist!steve x reader #tattooartist!steve #mcu au #sarah rogers #typhanie wilson #sarah rogers x typhanie wilson

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kayteewritessteve · 4 years

Text

DT - Just Drunk 3/3

Description: It’s finally your first date night with Steve, and everything starts out great. But then things start to take a drastic turn for the worst, and you are both left helplessly watching as the night crashes and burns before your very eyes. Whoever said that having best friends was a good thing, clearly lied to all of us... Masterlist HERE.

Word Count: 11,470 ish.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader.

Rating: PG. Warnings: Curse words. Awkward moments. Shitty friends.

Requested: Nah, this is just the third and final part to this mini series.

A/N: I sadly don’t own any of these characters. And no beta reader, so I do proudly own all the errors and this story, so there’s that.

It’s finally here!! The final part of Drunk Twitter! And my entry to @justkending milestone celebration!! My prompt will be in bold and was: “Ever wanted to smack someone upside the head with a frying pan?” “Cause I’m getting that feeling right now.” CONGRATS TO YOU, LOVELY, ON YOUR 1000 FOLLOWERS MILESTONE! Here’s to many, many more followers to come for you! You deserve the whole damn world. Oh! And HAPPY BIRTHDAY BEAUTIFUL!! I hope you had a wonderful day, locked in your house lol ❤️❤️❤️

That was hands down the worst date that either you, or Steve, had ever been on, in your entire separate lives. And that was saying a lot, considering Steve was just over 100 years old, and you weren’t exactly a spry young chicken yourself. At least when it came to the dating world, you weren’t.

So why, exactly, was this date such a colossal disaster, you ask? Oh, well, let us show you it in its entirety, from start to finish. Then you’ll understand exactly why, and when, it all went to hell in a handbag.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Readers POV

Tonight’s the night. After 5 days of intense mood swings, calling your friends crying and begging for pep talks, hardly getting any tasks done at work, issues with sleeping, and a few very large glasses of wine—read, just the straight bottle. No glasses were used, because we aren’t about that life here— It’s finally Friday night AKA your date night with Steve. And—oh fuck, nope, no, nu uh. You can’t do this. You just can’t!

You flop down onto the ridiculous pile of clothes that is now your bedroom floor and try to bury yourself within it. You can’t do this. You really can’t. So instead, you will just burrow into these clothes and they will become your home now. Lindsey and Tyler can drop off food once a week to sustain you, and if you get an extension cord, you could totally rig up your laptop in here.

Note to self: regardless of if you stay buried in these clothes or not, you really do need to get an extension cord. They are honestly useful as fuck.

But back to the main issue at hand here, which was agreeing to this ridiculous date. That was a horrible idea! Honestly, what were you even thinking?! You know you don’t take stress well, that you overthink and panic over even the smallest of upsets, but shit—wait, where was I going with this again? OH! Right! Who do you even think you are? Going on a damn date with thee Steve Rogers! The most gentlemanly, gentleman that ever gentlemaned! Shit!

And then there is you, a washed up journalist with hair that never cooperates, pores the size of Russia, and—you swear that—you walk with a limp, because you are positive that one leg is just slightly shorter than the other. You swear it! On your damn life!

Okay, so maaaaaybe you are overreaching here just a tad, again. But the point still stands. You aren’t special, or a superhero, or ya know, God's gift to the world. You are just you. Y/N Y/L/N. So how is it that you scored a date with thee sweetest, most down to earth, most handsome guy out there? Damn. Maybe good Karma really is a thing?—No, no. You shake your head, vehemently. Because in that case, you would have ended up getting shit on by a bird or something, instead of going on a date with Steve..

Alright, it’s decided. You aren’t going on this date. You don’t deserve to go on this date. You’ll just pick up your phone and call—no! Text! Facing him...err, ya know, what your voice? Shit, doesn’t matter, what does though is the fact that you having to cancel over the phone would just be way too hard, and far too heartbreaking. A text is super impersonal, but much easier. And—hey! Don’t judge us! We never claimed to be courageous! We are basically the damn cowardly lion in human form over here. So come to terms with that. Own it. It’s a part of who we are now.

You groan, moving your arms around languidly over the insane pile of clothes beneath you, in search of your cellular communication device. The movement reminds you of making snow angels as a kid, so just for good measure you move your legs as well, and allow the random procrastinating train of thought to continue on for a few more minutes. Hoping it will calm your nerves even a little.

It obviously doesn’t, but it does cause you to giggle, and locate your phone, so that’s a win, you guess. You pick the phone up and bring it to above your face, your eyes instantly widening when you realize the time. 5:46pm. Shit! Steve is supposed to be here at 6! There is no way you can text and cancel now! You’re willing to bet he’ll be here at exactly 6, and he is probably driving as we speak, therefore he won’t even get your text till he is outside your apartment. And shit, cancelling at this point is just fucking mean. You have to go on this date now, you have no choice.

You groan loudly again as you barrel roll off the pile of clothes and awkwardly climb to your feet, heading over to the mirror to take a second look at the 15th outfit you’ve tried on tonight. But before you can give it a thorough re-looking over, your phone rings abruptly and you jump, almost chucking it across the room. Man, you are clearly far too jumpy tonight, and you always have this weird desperate need to involuntarily destroy your phone. Like what even is that? Your phone continues to ring, and you quickly answer it, not even checking who is calling. “H-hello?”

“Breathe. What are you wearing?”

Lindsey, it’s Lindsey. You glance down, “dark wash jeans, a black sheer blouse, and my black ankle boot heels.” You freeze, realization and then irrational fear taking hold, as you stare back at yourself in the mirror. “Oh shit, do you think I’m too underdressed? Oh crap! I am, aren’t I? I should have worn a dress! He’s from the damn 30’s! Oh fu—“

“Woman!” Lindsey cuts you off, “just breathe, babe, damn. You are overthinking this whole thing way too much. Your outfit is perfect, I bet you look like a freaking fox right now, and I know for a fact you will blow Steve away. So just simmer your shit a little, okay?”

You nod slowly to your reflection, realizing Lindsey can’t see the action you quickly mumble. “Yeah. Yeah, you’re right. I’ll be okay, I look fine, I’m fine. I’m breathing now. Promise.”

“Very convincing,” Lindsey snarks and you can damn near hear her rolling her eyes at you.

You are about to snark back at her, but a few light knocks on your door halt the words in your throat. Shiiiiit! He’s here!

“Fuck! Linds!” You hiss. “He’s here! What do I do?!”

“Jesus,” she sighs, exasperated, “you get off the phone and answer the door! And then have a wonderful fucking night. It’s that simple.”

“Okay. Okay. You’re right, again, it sounds simple enough. I got this.” Yet the words don’t sound convincing at all. At least not to your ears.

“You do,” she reaffirms. “Now repeat after me, I look great. I will rock this damn date. I will blow him away with my looks and my interesting and funny conversation topics. Because I got this shit on lock.”

“Yes, I second everything you just said. But I have to go! Bye!” You pulled the phone from your ear and are just about to hang up, when you hear.

“Wait!!” Ring from the phone's speaker, and you halt from hanging up, putting the phone back to your ear.

“Yes?” You question in a rushed manner, needing to get off the phone so you can answer the door and not leave Steve Rogers standing idly in your hallway for all your neighbours to see.

“Call me as soon as the date ends!! Or there will be hell to pay!” She warns. “I want all the dirty details, so don’t forget a damn thing! And most of all, have fuuuuun!” She singsongs the last part.

“Will do! Bye!” You hang up quickly before she can say anything else. Was that rude? Probably. Do you care at the moment? Not in the slightest. You’ll make it up to her later.

You rush from your room, closing the door behind you so he can’t catch even a small glimpse of the chaos that has become your bedroom floor. Then you make your way to your front door, pulling on your heel booties and grabbing your jacket from the back of your dining room chair before pulling it on as well. With one last look at yourself in your entryway mirror, you pull open your door and your heart damn near leaps from your chest at just the sight of him alone.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Steve's POV

Finding her address took way less time than he thought it would, and once he parks he realizes just how early he is. He couldn’t go up yet, could he? No, no, arriving too early is ‘bad form’, as Sam had put it, and ‘makes you look too eager,’ as Bucky had added. Both men were not being overly helpful, at all. But then Nat had piped up, and said to ignore both guys, and the true reason you don’t want to show up too early is because she probably won’t be ready, and it’s never good to rush a woman’s pre-date prepping process. So after Nat’s words of wisdom replay in his mind, he decides to wait it out, and head up closer to 6. Not wanting to rush you in any way, shape, or form.

But the second the clock clicks to 5:55, he is out of the car and halfway to your apartment's front door. He is just about to buzz your number, when another resident exits the door and sees him standing there. The residents eyes widen comically upon realization that Captain America is currently standing outside their apartment, and with a few stuttered words of praise and thanks, the resident steps aside, still holding the door, and allows Steve access to the apartments lobby.

With a sincere and rushed ‘Thank you’, Steve makes his way into the building and up to the 4rd floor to your apartment door. He glances down at his watch and sees that it’s now 5:59, right on time, he thinks. He quickly pats down his clothes, trying to smooth them out and eradicate the wrinkles from sitting in the car for so long. And just as the clock ticks over to 6:00, he takes a deep breath, and raises his hand, knocking loudly on the fake wood door.

His super soldier ears pick up the shuffled sounds of movement and the murmur of a soft voice through the door. Though he can’t make out the words, and yes, if he focused himself he probably could, but your privacy is still important to him. Even though he’s sort of taken it away from you once or twice in the past. Be it by looking at Tony’s file on you, or constantly creeping your social media accounts. Granted, social media is you putting it out there to the world, so it’s not exactly a breach of privacy. But yet, it still made Steve feel weird and creepy for doing it, so that sort of counts, at least in his mind it does—

The door abruptly opening cuts off Steve’s train of thought, and then the sight now before him causes his mind to just blank. With no hopes in it recovering anytime soon, because you are breathtaking. More beautiful than the last time he saw you, and that’s saying something because he was almost rendered speechless the first time. And this time, he is.

How the hell is he going to make it through this night, if he can’t even say a word from just the sight of you, alone?! Oh hell, he’s doomed.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Readers POV

A silent moment goes by, neither one of you uttering so much as a syllable. Just both standing there, staring at each other and speechless. Finally you find your voice and drag it back from its hiding place. “Uh, hi,” you wave awkwardly—And woooow, clearly you only dragged a part of it back. And also, a freaking wave?!? What are you, 12? You’d facepalm right now, if it weren’t for the tall blonde standing directly in front of you currently.

Steve gives you a shy smile, and an awkward wave in return, “Hi.”

Okay, so at least you aren’t the only awkward one. That’s good, you guess. “Shall we?” You ask, pointing past Steve at the empty hallway.

He nods quickly, “yeah. Yeah, let’s go.” And then he steps out of the doorway to allow you room to exit your apartment. You quickly do, turning to close and lock your door, and then you direct your attention back to the Adonis beside you, as you both begin to walk towards the stairwell door.

A silence looms over you both, you aren’t exactly sure what to say, and it would appear Steve has the same sentiments. You make your way down the stairs and out your apartment buildings front door, and then you freeze. Completely. You gape at the all black car, currently parked on the curb outside your building. “Is that,” you pause, your voice barely coming out above a whisper, so you clear your throat, “is that a Mclaren P1?” You turn to look back at Steve, eyes wide and mouth hanging slightly open.

He gives you a bashful look, “it is. I’m sorry, I was planning to bring my bike, but then Nat told me you might be wearing a dress, and that even if you weren’t, the helmet would just mess up your hair,” he trails off, glancing at the car and mumbling, “So Tony forced me into taking this ridiculous car.”

You chuckle softly and turn to look back at your dream car, sitting just 25 feet away. “Not ridiculous at all. If I ever won the lottery, that’s the first thing I’d buy,” you gesture to the car and then a cold sweat rips through you, and you quickly look down to inspect your clothes. Or rather, the ass of your jeans.

There is no way in hell you are getting in that car, until you are positive there isn’t a single thing on your jeans that could accidentally be transferred to the seats. You could NEVER afford to replace one of those seats, they are insanely expensive and your measly junior journalist pay would not cut it. You’d be back paying till you were old and grey. No! Longer than that, you’d have to leave your debt owing to Tony Stark in your damn Will. So that your poor children and grandchildren could continue to pay it off after you’re dead and gone. That’s how expensive they are.

A soft chuckle from behind you causes your eyes to flick up and realize that Steve is watching your every move. Including how you just checked your own ass out. Wonderful. Way to go, smart one!

“Ah, shall we?” You ask, yet again, as clearly that’s the only words you have in your repertoire tonight. Some journalist you are. Steve gives you a large grin, and nods, then he places his hand on your lower back and leads you towards your dream car. And if this wasn’t a first date, and that wasn’t Tony Stark's car, you’d have totally asked if you could drive it. But you refrain, this time.

Steve lifts up the passenger door for you,—yes, ‘lifts up’. Butterfly doors are just far too damn cool for words!— like the gentleman he is and you thank him quietly as you slip in. And the second the door is closed, your eyes excitedly bounce around the car's interior, taking in all of it as you may never get a chance to sit in a Mclaren again. And you don’t want to miss or forget a single detail about this damn car.

Steve slips into the driver's seat and clicks in his seatbelt, reminding you that you should probably do the same. So you quickly click yours in as well. Then he turns to you, “you like cars, I take it?”

“Something like that,” you chuckle as he pushes a button to start up the car and it roars to life. Which yeah, that causes your insides to do a little happy dance of excitement at just the sound of this beast alone. “My dad was a mechanic, and an avid supercar enthusiast. So I grew up around cars and at race tracks.”

Steve hums his acknowledgement of your words, as he pulls away from the curb. “I’m more of a bike guy, myself. But I can appreciate a beautiful car.”

You smile at him, happy that you’ve both managed to get over your initial awkwardness and settled on a topic you are comfortable and knowledgeable in. “I like bikes as well, though I’m nowhere near coordinated enough for two wheels, so I stick to four.”

He chuckles, and takes a second to glance over at you before focusing back on the road, “Well, I’ll have to take you out on my bike one day,” he pauses and then quickly adds, “If um, if you’d be interested in that?”

You nod enthusiastically, “I’d really like that.”

You see the hint of a smile form on the side of his lips, “okay. I can make that happen.”

Then what his words actually meant hits you, and you freeze up again. Because, wait, did he just ask you on a second date?! Did he just imply that he already knows he wants a second date? Even before this one has actually started? Shit, what are you supposed to do with that information?! Thank God your frazzled and slightly slow mind hadn’t clued into this until after you’d answered him. Or you could have just ended up not replying at all, and making the poor guy think you didn’t want to see him again. Or that you weren’t enjoying yourself so far. Which couldn’t be further from the truth.

You pull your head out of your ass, and decide to ignore your insecurities and fears, and just talk to Steve. So you start asking him simple questions about himself, nothing too deep, just surface stuff, and as the car ride continues on, you find yourself relaxing more and more.

You both just talk the entire way to the restaurant and before you know it, the car is coming to a stop and Steve is climbing out and handing the valet his keys. He quickly makes his way around to your side and opens up the door before you can even attempt to get it yourself, he offers you a hand and helps you out, and yeah, that makes you swoon a little more. But just a little.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Steve's POV

As he pulls open the restaurant's door for Y/N, and guides her inside, he starts to finally calm down. Thank God his implication of wanting a second date so soon into the first one, hadn’t scared her off. Bucky had told him to play it aloof, leave her wanting more. Sam had told him to be cool, and to think before he spoke. And Nat had told him, once again, to ignore the guys and just be himself. If he wanted to say something to her, to just freaking say it. Be open, and honest, and not some fabricated asshole or casanova. Because that wasn’t him, and girls could usually see right through that shit. So he’d once again decided to go with Nat’s advice, as hers seemed the least scary. And the most realistic.

But when the words had left his mouth, he’d almost groaned and banged his head against the steering wheel. Because who the hell brings up a second date, 5 minutes into the first? That was way too eager of him, to just assume she’d even be interested in the first place. But yet, it had worked out in his favour, because she’d replied instantly, and excitedly, that she’d really like that. So maybe just being himself, and saying what was in his head was the best option after all. It did score him a second date, so clearly this was going well. If he was any judge of things, that is.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Readers POV

Your eyes land on the beautiful young woman standing behind a podium, and the moment her eyes flick up and locked on you both, a large grin forms on her lips. You honestly don’t know what to make of the smile, it’s not exactly one you’d have expected, and you can’t place why it makes you feel so awkward.

It’s odd for sure, but then she speaks and her voice is a polar opposite to her grin. It’s sweet and soft, and calming. “Good evening you two, do you have a reservation? Or just looking for a table?”

“We have a reservation, under Rogers,” Steve answers and you aren’t sure if he is getting the same odd vibes as you are, maybe he is used to people reacting weirdly to his presence. Or maybe, you are just finally going fully crazy, but one glance up at the large blonde, and seeing the slight furrow of his brow, tell you that this isn’t normal, or maybe he is picking up on the same weird vibes that you are. So you aren’t going crazy—at least not this time, you aren’t.

She nods quickly, then picks up two menus and asks you both to follow her. She leads you through the restaurant and to a back corner table. “Here you are,” she says as she places the menus down on the table. “Your waiter will be with you shortly,” she adds, and you are positive that she is trying not to laugh. But you have no idea why. So far, every moment you’ve spent in this restaurant has been so damn weird. But you put that thought out of your mind as she leaves you both alone and scurries off back to her podium.

Steve helps you out of your jacket hanging it on your chair, then he pulls the chair out for you, and you thank him as you sit. He moves to sit across from you, as your eyes flick back over to the woman at the podium, and you notice she is watching you both. Clearly trying to hide that fact, but it’s pretty damn obvious. Once Steve is settled, you snap your eyes back to him, “that was weird, wasn’t it?”

He peers over his shoulder and also glances at the hostess for a second, before turning back to you. “Yeah, that was odd.”

“Does that always happen to you? Do people react to you like that all the time?”

He shakes his head, “sometimes they react, but never like that. That was a first for me.”

You nod, chuckling quietly as you pick up your menu and open it, “okay, so I wasn’t the only one that thought that was weird.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Steve's POV

“No,” Steve chuckles as he opens his menu as well. “You weren’t.”

He has never had someone react to his presence like that, he’s had people cry, scream, and laugh uncontrollably. Hell, he’s even had a few people faint, but never has a stranger reacted like that to him before. He isn’t sure what to make of the grin she gave him, it was almost like she was in on something that he wasn’t. And he did not like that thought, not one bit. He pushes the thoughts from his mind, as they both take a few moments to peruse the menus quietly.

A shadow falls over the table and Steve assumes the waiter has arrived, he continues to look over the menu as they place two waters on the table and begin to speak. “Good evening, my name is,” there is a strange pause and then a very awkward sounding, “Will,” is added. “And I’ll be your server tonight. Can I start you both off with something to drink?”

Steve furrows his brows, because he is sure he recognizes that voice. He is 100% positive that he’s heard it many, many times—You have got to be kidding him!? His eyes snap up and lock onto a very familiar set of brown eyes, and then his narrow into a glare. And even with very real looking facial hair, he could spot Sam from a damn mile away. What the fuck is Sam doing here? And as his waiter, no less. And just like that, the hostess’ reaction now makes perfect freaking sense.

Steve quickly glances at Y/N, hoping she hasn’t looked up just yet, seeing that she is still buried in her menu, then he flicks his eyes back to ‘Will’ and he narrows them. The aforementioned ‘waiter’ just gives him a cheeky grin in return. ‘What are you doing here?’ He mouths to his soon to be ex best friend.

‘Taking your drink orders,’ Sam mouths back with a ‘duh’ expression on his face, causing Steve's eyes to narrow even more in warning.

“I’ll just take an iced tea,” Y/N pipes up and Steve shakes his head before begrudgingly saying, “and I’ll take a beer, whatever’s on tap.”

“Excellent choices,” Sam says excitedly and shoots Steve one more cheeky grin before he damn near runs away from the table. Leaving Steve feeling super confused, very irritated and entirely nervous as to just what his friend—hold that thought, he quickly glances around the restaurant, and his eyes lock on a table on the other side with three men and a woman, all in horrible disguises and he instantly knows who they are. Bucky, Tony, Clint and Nat—what his friends, he corrects in his head, have planned. Seriously, what the hell are they doing?!

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Readers POV

After ordering your drink, you finally decide which meal you’d like and then you place your menu down and glance up at Steve, curious if he’s decided yet or not. But before you can ask, you notice that he looks super out of it now. Like he is lost in thought, and he is entirely focused on something at the other side of the room. You glance over and see that he is looking—read, glaring—at a table with a few people sitting at it. “Do you know them?” You ask quietly, as you just continue to stare at them as well.

“Hmm?” He questions, “who?”

You turn to look at him again, seeing that his focus is now back on his menu. And once again, you feel extremely weird. “The people at that table over there,” you tip your head in it’s direction.

He looks up at you for a second, silently, before he rubs the back of his neck and glances back down at his menu. “Ah, possibly. I just ah, I think I know them from somewhere, but I can’t really remember exactly where.” He shrugs, “probably from work.”

You nod, his answer seeming a little forced and awkward, but you decide to just drop it. “So, any ideas on what you’d like to eat?”

“I was thinking the steak. It sounds delicious.”

“That’s what I was thinking about getting as well,” you smile to yourself, realizing you both seem to enjoy the same foods. Clearly that’s another thing you both have in common. Score!

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Steve's POV

His eyes continue to dart between the table with his so-called ‘friends’ and the beautiful woman across from him. He is furious at his team for crashing his date, and with each passing second he only becomes more and more angry. How could they do this to him? He was nervous enough about this date, and now they had to go and add more stress onto his already frazzled nerves.

It’s taking everything in him not to go over there and tell them all to leave. His eyes snap back to Y/N, and he wants to smack himself for barely paying any attention to the story she is midway through telling. Here he is supposed to be learning all about her, or at least learning about her first hand, instead of only going on the outside information he learned from Tony’s invasion of privacy folder.

And if barely paying any attention to his date, isn’t bad enough, he also lied to her about the occupants of that stupid table. He knows exactly who they are, but in a split second decision, he chooses to not inform Y/N of that. The last thing he wanted was for her to feel uncomfortable in any way. And his nosy friends crashing their date to spy on them, yeah, that makes him uncomfortable and he knows them. He can’t imagine how she’d react to this all, so he decided to keep their presence to himself. At least until he figures out exactly what they have planned, and why the hell they thought it was a good idea to crash his date.

He vows right then and there to tell her about his shitty friends once they leave the restaurant, and apologize for his white lie at that point. But that doesn’t really relieve his guilt over all of this, nor his stress.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Readers POV

It’s not hard to tell Steve is distracted by something, and you’d have to be blind to not notice him constantly glancing over at that table. To his credit, he is doing a pretty good job at hiding his immense interest in the four occupants, but you still noticed.

And maybe that has something to do with the fact that you’ve been talking about Eggo waffles and Oreos for the last 5 minutes, having ran on a hunch that he wasn’t really paying attention to you, and that hunch having turned out to be correct.

So here you are, telling him all your favourite flavours of Oreo, and describing exactly how you eat them. You are curious just how long it will take him to clue in and question you on your current conversation topic. So far, the timer just passed 5 minutes and is still going strong.

You have no idea who the people at that table are, but you figured Steve would tell you if you had anything to worry about. And since he hadn’t yet, you were trying to ignore the small pang of fear that they were bad people, hell-bent on hurting him, you, or both. He did deal with lots of bad, bad people in his line of work though. Or rather, he pissed off a lot of them. So you could only imagine how many wanted to cause him harm, or the people around him—But we aren’t focusing on that at the moment. One issue at a time here.

The waiter returns to drop off your drinks and take your food orders, and you don’t miss the small glare Steve sends him, which yeah, that’s fucking odd as well. You have no idea what this waiter did to him, but you can only assume it probably has something to do with the table of four. Maybe the waiter is a baddy as well?—Shit, if that is the case, then they have you both surrounded.

And what if they poison the food? Oh God! Maybe you should fake a tummy ache and see if Steve will take you home early? Ya know, just to be safe—you shake your head gently. Don’t be silly, like you already thought, if anything was wrong or if you were in any danger, Steve would have told you. Or at least made sure to protect you, he was a freaking superhero after all—

“Oreos?” He asks finally, the cutest furrow in his brows at his confusion on the current topic. The one you’d picked right back up the second the waiter walked away.

And you chuckle, that only took him 10 minutes. Not bad. But not really great either, you guess. “I like Oreos,” you shrug, trying to act casual. “So tell me a little about yourself. What kinds of sweets does Steve like?”

He chuckles, “I guess Oreos are pretty good, I’m also a fan of them. But my all time favourite are Reese’s peanut butter cups.”

“Really?” You ask leaning forward on your hand with your elbows on the table, genuinely intrigued by his choice in chocolate.

“Yeah,” he chuckles again. “When I woke up from the ice, I was really surprised to see that Reese’s were still around. I remember when they first started selling them, or at least when I first started buying them, back in the early 30’s. Though they were sold individually back then, and at only 2 cents a piece,” he chuckles a little more, shaking his head as he does. “It still boggles my mind how much has changed since then, but yet, some things have stayed exactly the same.”

“I can’t even imagine,” you say honestly, “what else has stayed the same?” And just as he starts to tell you a few other things, your eyes catch movement behind him and you glance towards it. Seeing an older woman sitting at a table, one away from yours, and facing you. With what looks like an older man sitting across from her, but you can only see the back of his head. But then you notice that she is looking down at the phone in her hands, intently, as it’s raised up in the air, above her table. What is that woman even doing? Is she—is she taking freaking pictures of you!?

Your eyes focus in on the phone in question and—wait a fucking second! Is that a damn cat DJing a pizza, in space?! You audibly gasp, as your eyes snap back up to lock on the ‘old ladies’, who is now looking at you and then yours narrow, accusingly. And at least the woman has the good sense to avert her eyes, quickly, but the damage has been done. So you then assess the back of the ‘old mans’ head, and come to an unwavering realization.

“Are you okay?”

“Hmm?” You flick your eyes back to Steve’s. “Oh, yeah. Yep. I’m just dandy,” your eyes again lock on the stupid ‘old woman’. “I just have to use the ladies room, I’ll be right back.” You abruptly stand, barely getting the words out before you quickly run away from your table. You glance back to make sure Steve isn’t watching and then forcefully yank the ‘old’ woman and man from their spots and drag them to the bathrooms with you. Not giving them a moment to protest.

Then the moment the door shuts you whirl around on them, grabbing the woman’s grey hair and pulling on it, leaving you holding a wig in your hands and glaring daggers at your, so called, best friends. If you weren’t so angry right now, you’d have commented on this being a wig snatching great time. But you're furious. Fuming, even.

“I really shouldn’t be in here,” Tyler points out unhelpfully.

“Oh please,” you scoff, “I’m more likely to check out the women in this bathroom than you are.”

He presses his lips together, nodding in agreement but he is smart enough to keep his lips zipped. Your eyes move over to glare menacingly at Lindsey.

“Look, we can explain,” she puts her hands up in submission.

“I sure fucking hope so,” you scold, crossing your arms like a pissed off parent. “Well, let’s hear it then. Come on, out with it. What could have possibly possessed you both to crash my date? Hmm?”

“It was his idea,” Lindsey points to Tyler, at the same time he points to her, “it was her idea.”

They both gasp, scandalized, and glare at each other. “Liar!” They say in unison. Another gasp from both, “I am not!” and again, in unison.

You feel like they rehearsed this, they had to have. And if, by the off chance that they didn’t, then they clearly share the same wave link. And obviously a dumb one, at that.

“Okay, whoever’s idea it was aside,” you wave a dismissive hand around. “You both not only agreed to crash my date, but followed through with that stupid plan. So how I see it, you are both at fault here.” You sigh, some of the wind in your sails vanishing, “now, the real question is what the hell guys?” You shift your eyes between the two, “you both knew how excited and nervous I was for this date, how could you think this was a smart idea? The last thing I needed was more stress added into the mix. And the fear of Steve realizing you are both here, now that adds a lot of unnecessary stress onto me.”

“Sorry,” they both mumble with their heads down, like scolded children. And you believe you are getting through to these two knuckleheads. Buuuuuut then Tyler has to go and ruin it, “but it was actually Lindsey's idea, just to clarify.”

Linds jerks her head up and glares at him, “it was ‘our’ idea, traitor!” She hisses out. And just like that, they are back to bickering again.

You groan loudly and clench your eyes shut, taking a deep calming breath before you intervene, “okay, enough!” They both snap their mouths shut and turn to you. “I don’t have time to stand here and listen to you both argue. Unless you forgot, I’m sort of supposed to be on a date right now, and I’ve now been standing in the women’s bathroom for an entirely too long amount of time. Steve’s going to think I encountered a damn basilisk or something,” you sigh, shaking your head.

“Do you think he’d even understand that reference?” Tyler asks the room, then turns to Lindsey, “do you think anyones shown him those movies yet?”

Lindsey gives him an odd look, “of course he’s seen them. They are a huge part of this generation, there is no way that no one in his life has shown him the Potter franchise yet.”

Tyler nods slowly, “unless his friends all suck, I guess.”

“Very valid point, Ty—“ Linds starts but you cut in.

“Not important at the moment, guys,” you say as you uncross your arms and point a menacing finger at them. “Now, I’d ask you both to leave, but I know you won’t listen to me. So instead, I’ll ask that since you both are hell-bent on crashing my date, the least you could do is not be so damn obvious about it. Please, no more photos, and for the love of God, do not let Steve know you both are here, got it?”

“Got it,” they both mumble. Then Tyler quietly says, you think mainly to himself, “but Harry Potter is always important.”

You ignore his comment and walk passed both of them and exit the bathroom, not having anything else to say to either of them. Because honestly, it would just be a waste of time, those two do exactly what they want, no matter what you say or how you reason with them. So there isn’t even a point in wasting the breath at the moment. They will stay and lurk on you and Steve either way. However, you honestly wouldn’t change either of them for the world. They may frustrate the hell out of you, but you get them back all the time. It’s a 50/50 thing, for sure.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Steve's POV

The moment she is up from the table and has walked off, he pulls out his phone and brings up the group chat to fire off a message. ‘What the hell are you guys doing here?’

His eyes flick up to watch his friends, as they each pull out their phones and read his text. Then they all look over at him and give him their best innocent smiles, and then his phone vibrates with a message and he glances down to see it’s from Tony. ‘We are just here for dinner, such a coincidence that we happened to pick the same restaurant as you two.’

Steve shoots Tony a glare before checking that Y/N isn’t in sight and standing up to stomp over to their table. “Oh yeah? Just getting dinner, hey? Then what’s with the get ups,” he flicks the obviously fake wig on Bucky’s head, causing the Jerk to swat his hand away just as he continues on to hiss out, “and why the hell is Sam our waiter?”

“Look, Steve,” Nat starts and his heated glare snaps to her, causing her to put her hands up in surrender. “I had no hand in this idiotic plan, it was entirely their idea,” she points at Bucky and Tony, causing the latter to gasp and the former to—well, to look pretty fucking guilty, if you ask Steve. But she just turns back to Steve and continues on, “I only chose to join them to make sure they didn’t fuck your date up too badly.” Then Clint pipes up, also putting his hands up in surrender, “and I’m just here for the food.”

“Traitors,” Tony accuses in a hissed whisper.

Clint just shrugs, and Nat looks at Tony and crosses her arms, “you can call me whatever you like, Tony. But I refuse to get on Steve’s bad side because of your stupid ideas. No fucking thank you, that’s a bullet I won’t take for you.”

Tony shoots her one last glare before correcting his features and turning to Steve, clearly trying to salvage the situation. “We just wanted to be here for moral support. In case you needed any backup. Isn’t that right, Manchurian Candidate,” he elbows Bucky for support, but the Jerk knows that no matter what they say, Steve will be pissed. So best to keep his mouth shut for now, which is blatantly obvious by the way he presses his lips together and refuses to look at Steve.

“Bullshit,” Steve says as he crosses his arms. “Your choice to be here has nothing to do with backing me up, but I don’t have time to stand here and argue with you. I’m supposed to be on a fucking date and I can barely focus on Y/N with you assholes sitting here. So eat your food and get out, we will talk when I get back to the tower,” he says that last part like a threat. They are so fucking in for it when he gets home, and he wants them all to know it. “And tell Sam to let a real waiter take over, I dunno who you all bribed to let you pull this shit, but if a real waiter isn’t the next person to approach my damn table, I’ll be even more pissed off,” then with that said, he spins on his heel and quickly makes his way back to the table. Glad that Y/N hasn’t come out of the bathroom just yet, so she didn’t see him scolding the table of assholes.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Readers POV

You quickly make your way back to the table, seeing Steve sitting by himself and feel like an asshole for taking so long, scolding your shit ass friends. You quickly retake your seat and feel the need to apologize. “Sorry that took so long,” you pause, because what the hell excuse are you supposed to use!? Shit, you should have thought about this before you sat back down! “Ah, just as I was washing my hands, my um, my mom called.” Shit, that was a horrible excuse. What is wrong with you?!

“Oh?” Steve asks hesitantly, “is everything okay?”

“Oh yes, yeah,” you nod quickly. Maybe too quickly but no taking it back now. “She just forgot I had a date tonight, I told her I’d call her back later.”

He seems to give you an odd look for a moment, before finally nodding and glancing around the restaurant. “Does it feel like the food is taking a really long time, or is it just me?”

You glance around as well, not seeing a single waiter or waitress in sight, “no, it’s not just you. I think we ordered like 30 minutes ago, maybe?”

He nods, “yeah, something like that.”

“I’m sure it won’t be much longer,” you comment, trying to be positive. “And it just means we get more time to talk.”

He smiles at you, “well, in that case, let’s hope the food never comes.”

And swooooon. You couldn’t not swoon over his words even if you tried. You give him a grin, and you know for a fact that it’s probably the biggest, goofiest thing he’s ever seen, but you can’t help it. “Fingers crossed,” you trail off from starting a new conversation as you see your, so called, friends doing the walk of shame from the bathroom and retaking their seats at their table. And before you can stop yourself, the words are already leaving your mouth, unfiltered. “Ever wanted to smack someone upside the head with a frying pan?” You abruptly ask, and then mumble out, “Cause I’m getting that feeling right about now.”

Steve snorts and you realize he was mid sip of his beer when you asked, and you watch as he quickly gulps down his mouthful, before his eyes flick over to the table of four for a second, then snap back to you. “All the time, actually.”

You give the table an inconspicuous side eye, and notice there are actually now five people sitting around it. So they have clearly gained another occupant, you see. And, that’s neat. Glad to see the baddies are growing in number. Excellent. Just freaking excellent. This night is not going to plan, not one fucking bit. And seriously, where the hell is your food!?

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Steve's POV

He glances down at the watch on his wrist and sees that it’s now, 7:27. Their reservation had been for 6:30, and so they have now been waiting on their food for at least 40 minutes. He is willing to bet that his ‘friends’ have something to do with why their food is taking so long, just another thing he will scold them all for later.

And the longer the food takes, the more intense of a scolding they’ll get. Mark his words now, this will be the last time they ever pull a stunt like this on him or anyone, ever again. He’ll make sure of it.

“Sorry for the delay,” a new voice chimes in from about them, and Steve glances up to see his first unfamiliar face since the hostess. “Ah, Will had a um, an emergency, so my name is Kyle, I’ll be taking over for him.” He places two new drinks down to replace the now two empty ones. “These drinks are on the house, as an apology for the wait. But it shouldn’t be too much longer for your food to be ready.”

Y/N thanks the new—actual—waiter, and Steve just nods, a small triumphant smile on his face as he glances over at the table, to see Sam now sitting with the others. Good, at least they can still follow orders, that will win them some points with him tonight.

The new waiter—Kyle—scurries off back to the kitchen door and Steve turns his attention back to Y/N. “Did you have a better time at work, this week?” He asks, genuinely curious how this recent week went, since he was more than aware that her last week hadn’t been very fun for her. He’d been meaning to ask about how she was doing with the media and the new popularity all night, as he had worried all week about her.

And just as she started to tell him all about her week, he lifts up his fresh beer and takes a very generous gulp. Only for the fact that as a super soldier, Steve can’t get drunk. At least not off regular beer. Though he furrows his brows once the cold liquid slides down his throat, because—does this taste different than the last beer he had? Wouldn’t they give him the same one he’d ordered before?

He internally shrugs, maybe they just ran out of the other beer so they gave him this one instead. It’s no big deal, he really likes the taste of this new one, and it was free. If there is anything Steve’s learned since waking up from the ice in this new—and expensive—era, it’s that you should never ever pass up free things. So he’ll drink it either way, even if just for that simple fact alone.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Readers POV

After a few more minutes of just talking about both of your weeks, the waiter returns and finally places your food on the table in front of you. And not a moment too late, you were seriously beginning to weigh the pros and cons of cannibalism—Okay, maybe you were going that extreme yet, but you were getting pretty dang hungry for sure.

You and Steve don’t waste a second, and both cease the conversations as you start to eat your respective meals, as the waiter scurries off to wherever waiters go while the patrons eat. Probably to check on the other customers. Your eyes drift back to the table of fo—five now, and you see them all eating their food now as well. So you allow yourself a moment to just breathe, and eat, and pretend like that table still isn’t worrying you. A lot.

After another few moments, and most of both your plates now empty, you see that Steve has finished his beer. But you only make that observation because he accidentally slams the glass down on the table, not breaking the glass, but the look he gives it after the loud clanking bang, leads you to believe he didn’t mean to be that forceful with it.

Your eyes flick up to his face, and you see he is a little flushed now, his eyes a little bloodshot and—wait, is he drunk?

“This food was amazing!” He damn near yells, and yep, yeah, you believe he is in fact drunk. Oh lordy, this should be fun..

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Steve's POV

Something isn’t right. He don’t feel ..right. He glances around the room, but quickly halts his eyes when he feels like the room is rocking. Spinning almost and that makes his stomach do somersaults. His eyes look down to his now empty glass, his brows furrowing, he can’t get drunk. But yet, he feels drunk. He feels just like he did that day Thor let him try the Asgardian mead—his eyes snap over to the table of his ‘friends’ and it instantly hits him—The beer didn’t taste weird because it was different, it tasted weird because they freaking spiked his drink.

Oh, they are so going to pay for this one. He huffs, as he attempts to glare holes in the sides of his ‘friends’ heads. They are all making a point to not look his way, they know they're in shit now. The fuckers—

“Who’s going to pay?”

Steve’s eyes widen as they flick back over to meet Y/N’s. Shit, did he say that out loud?! And before he can even attempt to come up with a quick cover up, his lips are moving and spilling the truth, much to his surprise and dismay. “My horrible friends,” he manages to get a hold of his lips before he says anything more, he presses them together in an effort to keep the rest of his words in. However, the adorable confused expression now on Y/N’s face makes him smile, and he is sure he looks like a crazy person at the moment. But honestly, he doesn’t really care at the moment. Maybe he will later, but not right now. “You’re adorable when you frown,” he chuckles.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Readers POV

You were still trying to figure out what he meant by ‘his horrible friends with pay for this’, but then he has to go and say you’re adorable and that halted all your thoughts, immediately. Damn, who knew you were so weak to compliments. Once again, some journalist you are. Geesh—Focus woman! Your eyes drift back to the table of five, and you give them a more thorough looking over and—holy fuck, is that Bucky Barnes. Wait, wait, wait, and Tony Stark. AND Natasha Romanov. Oh shit, and Clint Barton. And freaking SAM WILSON! Hold up, Sam looks exactly like your last waiter, Will.

And oooooh, it all makes so much sense now. You burst out laughing at the realization that not just your shitty friends crashed this date, Steve’s did too. Oh God, this is just too damn good. “Steve?” You ask softly, bringing his attention back to you. He’d been inspecting the table, as if to make sure it was structurally sound.

“Yeah?” He asks, sounding slightly out of it.

“Question?—err, actually maybe two questions,” you hastily amend and he chuckles.

“Okay,” he nods, a little too quickly, and hiccups as he speaks his next words, “W-what are they?”

“Is that your team over there?” You nod with your head towards the table of five, but keep your eyes fixated on the large blonde.

He scrunches up his face and opens his mouth to speak, but then sighs deeply and lowers his eyes to the table, then mumbles “yeah, it is.” But then as if it just hit him in the face, he snaps his head up and starts speaking again, a little louder this time—read, damn near yelling again. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I had no idea they were going to be here—“

You cut him off with your laugh, and he furrows his brows, his mouth still open as he clearly tries to figure out what’s so funny. You try valiantly to reign in your laugh, but this is all just too damn hilarious. “Y/N?” He asks hesitantly, confusion in his voice.

And you realize you have to say something, anything, so between laboured breaths and chuckles to manage to spit out in a whisper, “see the old couple behind you, a table away?”

Steve’s lips form a frown and he glances over his shoulder, not even remotely in a graceful manner. Then his whips back around and nods at you, “yeah,” he says slowly.

“Those two ‘old people’,” you make quote signs with your fingers, “are my two idiot best friends in disguise. They also crashed our date,” and those words make you laugh all over again at this whole weird situation. Your words clearly take a second to sink in, but as if a light just lit up, Steve’s frown disappears and he starts to laugh with you. Louder than you, actually. And so loud that it draws the attention of everyone in the rest restaurant, including both tables of your date crashing friends. Every last one of them.

“You’re joking?” He manages to say between boisterous laughs. You shake your head as you say, “not even a little bit.”

He laughs a little more, shaking his head as well. “That is too funny.”

You nod, agreeing with him, “that it is. Looks like both our friends are,” you raise your voice so all the people in question can hear you clearly, “nosey assholes.” Though your words are more directed at your two best friends, but maybe also a little at Steve’s. And one quick glance at both tables, and the scandalized expressions around both causes you to burst out laughing again. After a few moments, you both manage to calm down a little, enough to speak again at least. You quickly rub the tears from your eyes, as Steve takes a few deep breaths. Then you think of something, “and here I thought my friends were invasive. At least they didn’t fake being our waiter,” you giggle.

Steve groans, then chuckles a little more, “were you really surprised they’d go to that length? They did sort of force you to goto that press conference.”

“Oh shit,” you chuckle a little more, “I didn’t even think of that!”

“Yeah,” Steve shakes his head, “they are always sticking their noses in other people's lives. It’s rather frustrating,” he mumbles the last part, and you believe more so to himself.

“Wait,” Steve abruptly says, “you said you had two questions?”

You grin, nodding slowly as your second question pops back up into your head. Though you’re going to amend it a little. You were going to ask if he was drunk, but you're positive now that he is. So your question is a little changed, “so I’m guessing they spiked your drink, which means you can’t drive?”

“Shit,” Steve mumbles as his face pales and all the humour leaves his features. “I’m so sorry, Y/N, I can call you a cab, if you want? I’ll pay for it.”

“No,” a sly grin works its way onto your lips. “I have a better idea.” You stand up from the table and Steve slowly stands as well. Though you can see his very evident wobble from the booze. “Come with me,” you gesture for him to join you, offer him your hand for what little support you can give him. Ya know, since he is much larger than yourself, and if he starts to go down, you won’t be able to save him. But the gesture is what matters, right?

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Steve's POV

He is feeling the full effects of the mead as he stands, wobbling a little before quickly gaining his balance. If he falls flat on his face in front of her, he will be out for blood. She offers him her hand and he glances down at the outstretched appendage, then almost laughs. If he does go down, there is no way in hell she’ll be able to stop him, and he’ll just end up taking her down with him. But the chance to hold her hand, can’t be passed up, even in Steve’s mead muddled mind, he knows that fact clear as day.

He smiles and takes her hand, allowing her to lead the way and he quickly realizes where she is taking them. And the slightly panicked eyes of his friends makes him chuckle again. They reach the table of five, and Steve gives a curious look to Y/N, unsure where exactly she is going to take this. But he isn’t gonna lie, he’s excited to see what her master plan is.

“Avengers,” she nods in hello and smiles at each of them.

His friends all give each other strange, nervous looks before Tony speaks up, “Y/N,” he nods then looks at Steve. “Steve.” Before his eyes move back to the little woman holding Steve's hand tightly. “I see you’ve figured us out,” he chuckles awkwardly.

“That I have,” she giggles, “wasn’t too hard, once you spiked Steve’s drink.”

“That was Sam’s doing,” Tony quickly says, earning a gasp from the aforementioned.

“It might have been my doing, but it was Tony’s idea,” Sam quickly defends, pointing a menacing finger at the billionaire. Ugh, here we go again, Steve thinks.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Readers POV

Tony is just about to speak, but you cut in before he can. You aren’t interested in their bickering about who did what, and who’s behind this whole thing. You got enough of that from your own friends. “It’s okay, we aren’t mad,” you glance up at Steve, and see him about to refute your words, but one pointed look from you and he presses his lips together and nods in agreement.

“We aren’t,” he mumbles, the words not sounding overly convincing but it’s the thought that counts.

You bite your lip to prevent the new laugh from escaping. “But,” you abruptly say, “there are conditions to us not being upset.”

And Tony clearly tries to fight the grin that wants to show through, as he narrows his eyes at you, “and those are?”

“Our bill still needs to be paid,” you say calmly, commandingly so that Tony is aware you mean he will be paying it. And as you speak you are fighting to not look too excited for your next words. Tony nods slowly, hesitantly, and says, “okay, and?”

Your grin breaks through, and you see Tony shiver from the smug smile. “Since Steve is unable to drive currently, I will be driving him home and will return your car to you in the morning—“. Tony cuts in, “what? No, no, that doesn’t seem—“. “Tony,” Steve cuts in this time, sternly, clearly trying not to laugh.

“You all were the ones who crashed our date and spiked his drink,” you say, “therefore, hindering him from being able to drive. So these are the consequences, I’ve driven supercars before, so you don’t have to worry about that.”

Tony doesn’t seem convinced, at all, but everyone else at the table seems highly amused by all of this. “I think it’s only fair,” Nat pipes up, a smug grin on her face to match yours. “I agree with Nat,” Clint mumbles through his mouthful of food. Tony shoots them both a glare, then sighs, “fine, you can take the car for the night.”

And you are just about to squeal and jump up and down, when he abruptly adds, “but,” he points a finger at you then at Steve, “if there is so much as a single scratch on it tomorrow, Steve is covering the repair bill.”

Steve gives you a look, one that screams ‘now just wait one second, let’s talk about this a little first’ But you just ignore him, and nod at Tony, “Deal.” And before Steve can say a word, you begin to drag him away from the table, hearing Tony chuckle and say quietly, “I like that one,” to the others. Which only causes your smile to grow as you continue to pull Steve towards the front door of the restaurant.

As you both stand on the sidewalk, waiting for the valet to bring the car around and you are vibrating with excitement! This is your damn dream car and you GET TO DRIVE IT! Aaaaah! Shit!! Is this real life?!—A deep chuckle from beside you, causes you to come back to reality, and you glance up at the tall blonde. This day has been the weirdest one in your entire life, not only did you get to go on a date with thee Steve Rogers, but now you get to drive your dream car?! This is all just too much! Too damn much! But in all the best ways. “Sorry,” you smile bashfully up at him, as you tuck a few wayward strands of hair behind your ear, “I’m a little excited.”

“I can see that,” he nods, a glorious smile playing on his own lips. Just as you are about to speak, the beautiful sound of the supercars exhaust can be heard coming towards you, and before you know it, the Mclaren P1 is directly in front of you. In all it’s shiny black glory, and you are sure you’re dreaming. You have to be. Either that, or you’re drooling.

The valet goes to hand the keys to Steve, but you intervene and take them before he can, and then you get an idea. You quickly unlock the car and open up the door for Steve, who gives you an odd look, so you say with a shrug, “it’s my turn to be the gentleman.”

Which causes him to chuckle and hesitantly slip into the passenger seat then you close the door and make your way around to the driver's seat.

And before you know it, you are pulling up out front of the Avengers Tower. Steve had told you on the drive that he normally lives out at the compound now, but still has a room at the tower and stays there from time to time.

You shut the car off and quickly gesture for him to wait, receiving another odd look from the blonde. You quickly get out of the car and race around to open his door, you are determined to be the ‘gentleman’ this time. Steve deserves as much.

He chuckles again as he clues into what you’re doing, then climbs out of the car and you begin to walk him up to the tower's front doors.

Once you both reach the doors, you halt your steps and turn to him, he does the same but in reverse, halting and turning towards you.

“I had—“. “Thank you—“. You both speak at the same time and laugh, then he says, “I’m sorry, go ahead.”

“I just wanted to say I had a wonderful time tonight.”

“Even with our friends crashing the date?” He asks, one brow raised.

You giggle, “yes, even with that. It made for a very memorable first date.”

“That it did,” Steve nods. “And I just wanted to say thank you, for not only going out with me, but for putting up with my shitty friends.”

You wave it off, “they aren’t so bad. I think it was rather sweet that all of our friends crashed our date. Really shows how much they care, even in their own weird ways.”

He nods again, as he glances down at the ground, one hand coming up to rub the back of his neck, “would you be interested in doing this again sometime?”

You grin brightly, you couldn’t stop it even if you tried. “No, I wouldn’t be interested in doing this again.” Before you can finish your sentence, Steve's head snaps up and he gives you one of thee saddest looks you’ve ever seen in your life. “Just wait,” you giggle, putting your hands up to halt him, “let me finish. But yes, I’d love to go on another date with you, preferably one without our friends being present.”

His frown morphs into a brilliant grin, “yes, no friends on the next one for sure.”

“Okay, well I should get home,” you say reluctantly, “but I’ll call you in the morning before I head over to drop the car off, and maybe we can do coffee and a walk? Just the two of us?”

“I’d love that,” he nods. “And yes, just the two of us.”

“Perfect,” you smile, and lean up to plant a kiss on his check, but at the last second you change course and lightly place your lips upon his. And just as you are about to pull back, his arms move around your waist and pull you into him as he deepens the kiss.

Which yeah, you fucking swoon at that too, and if he were to let go of you right now, you’d melt into the sidewalk. You’d become a human puddle.

But luckily for you, he doesn’t release you right away and you both drown in each other for a few moments before you reluctantly pull back and he does that same. “Goodnight, Steve,” you say softly, breathlessly as you take a step back.

“Goodnight, Y/N. See you in the morning.”

You smile, “see ya then.” You turn and head back towards the car, a skip in your step that you know Steve can clearly see, but you don’t care. You are too happy right now, for a bunch of different reasons.

You glance towards him as you pull up the driver's door and see he is still standing there, watching you, and your tummy does flips. You wave, receiving one in return, then climb into the supercar and close the door.

The whole drive home you can’t wipe the grin off your lips, no matter how hard you try. So maybe you were a little over dramatic in the beginning of this story, maybe you made this night out to be a lot worse than it actually was. Because it wasn’t the worst date you’d ever been on, not by a long shot. It was actually the best, if you’re being honest.

This all started with you being a Drunk Twitter tweeter, and ended with Steve being, well, being Just Drunk honestly. But you wouldn’t change a damn thing, not one second, because even the bad moments all lead up to this glorious one. The start of something so, so special.

And now you have a coffee date with Steve in the morning, and—if you have any say in the matter—many, many more dates to come. This is just the beginning, and you can not wait to see where this all ends up. But something deep, deep down is telling you, that you’re going to love the journey to the end. More than anything, because you’ll get to make that journey beside Steve. And honestly, what more could a woman want than that? Nothing, that’s what.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

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