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themusicplayedherlife · 4 years

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Growing Up (18)

pairing: steve rogers x reader characters: reader, steve rogers, pietro and wanda m., clint, natasha, maria h., sam w. word count: 3k+ warnings: some angst, some doubt and a little bit of fluff summary: its time to clean things out, but you might not be as okay as you’re trying to make yourself seem a/n: eeeeeeeek so close to the end

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There are 365 days in a year.

Over 4,000 days were spent hating a man that only wanted to right a wrong that was done to him. 4,000 days used to crucify and push him away when all he wanted was to spend time with you, his eldest daughter.

“It’s not your fault,” a gentle voice whispers into the dark room as warm fingers trail up and down your back.

But isn’t it?

“You didn’t know.”

It doesn’t matter. The unwarranted hatred you pushed on him is despicable; the hurt you inflicted on him is unforgivable.

Soft lips press against your temple. “Talk to me.”

There’s nothing to talk about, you mentally convey, pressing yourself closer to the tall, muscular body pressed against yours, stuffing your face into his chest.

Steve sighs, and his hold on you tightens. “I don’t think he hated her for what she did.” He says it so gently into the air that you barely catch it. “He was angry, yes.” He tugs on your strands gently before weaving his fingers into your hair. “But he never hated her.”

Your face reacts, twitching into an unpleasant frown. “How do you know that?”

“Because he understood,” Steve starts slowly, thinking over his words carefully, “Tony… he was… he was a good defender. The reason he was able to win his cases was because he understood both sides. He didn’t just tackle the case as the defense, he also became the prosecutor. He stood on both sides, fighting both battles.”

You drink in his words, mulling them over as they twist and turn in your mind, trying to get you to understand.

“He understood why your mom did what she did because he looked at it from her side; he understood because you were the only thing either of them had left. And he knew they would both fight at nothing just to be able to have you for one last moment.”

You pick at his shirt. “But did she have to stoop so low?” There had to have been other options. “Was shared custody so bad?”

“Desperate people do desperate things,” he speaks into your hair, words a little muffled.

“I don’t think I’ll ever understand,” you admit. “Or that I’ll forgive her, I just—“

“I know,” he says, confident that he does. And maybe he does know. Maybe he knows better than anyone. He’s been by your side since Tony died, seen you at your worst and best and most of all, he’s been by Tony’s side, too, watching him struggle with the fact that his eldest daughter wanted nothing to do with him, both living their lives separately because of a desperate lie.

You press against him and allow the heat of his body, the caress of his fingers in your hair, and his soothing lips against your skin lull you to sleep, knowing that tomorrow, no matter how you feel about your mother and this horrible situation she created, you have Maria, Steve, and the twins in your corner.

The morning is quiet, not a single peep from the twins or Maria. Usually Maria would be up already, dragging her small body to your bed and trying to wake you up—weekend be damned. But today, this morning, she’s awfully quiet and you’re starting to think it might have to do with the twins.

You breathe in, campfires and clean soap engulfing your senses.

Steve’s chest rises and falls rhythmically, and his voice comes out as a raspy whisper. “Good morning.”

“Morning,” you greet back, shyness seeping into your voice.

He chuckles, his sweet voice hoarse and sleep ridden. “Sleep well?”

You stuff your face into his chest, allowing his arms to wrap around you completely. “Yeah. You?”

“Sleeping with you by my side?” His chest rises and falls deeply. “Best sleep ever.”

You laugh and his chest rumbles with his own laughter. “I don’t want to get up,” you mumble and he hums, his fingers weaving into your hair. You sigh contently and stretch languidly, your toes barely grazing his ankles.

“Then don’t.” He wraps his arms around you, leg thrown over your waist and caging you in. “Let's stay in bed.”

“Steve,” you whine with a laugh. “I have things to do.”

“Mhmm, like what?”

“Like cleaning out the house.” His hold on you grows lax, and he pulls away just enough to look into your eyes. You smile up at him, wide and as bright as you can muster. “I think it’s time I make this mine and Maria’s home? Don’t you?”

His blue eyes search yours, flying across your face and he cups your cheeks as if to keep you in place, as if you’d move away from him, deny him the opportunity to drink you in. You’d be stupid to deny him that right.

Birds chirp outside your window and you swear you hear Maria’s giggles coming from outside and Pietro’s loud laugh, but it all washes away when Steve’s lips descend on yours in a lazy, sweet kiss.

Kiss swollen lips, gentle touches, and bright blue eyes are all you feel and see for the next few minutes, the unconditional love and care Steve has for you pouring into you with every brush of his lips.

“If you keep kissing me, I won’t want to get out of bed,” you confess airily into the small space between you, haphazardly counting every individual lash fluttering against his skin in your mind.

He chuckles and he bumps his nose with yours, parted lips barely brushing against yours. “It’s a shame, isn’t it?”

“Mhmm, such a shame.”

His eyes twinkle and you can’t help but press your lips against his once more, and if it takes you another hour to get out of bed, it isn’t your fault. It’s his.

Tony has a lot of paperwork you realize as you sort through his office. Most of it are drawings by Maria that he most likely couldn’t bring himself to throw away. You shuffle through them, smiling at each one—stick figures of Pepper and Tony, and of shapeless animals, and colorful houses. Her drawings improve with each one.

Your smile grows wider when you come to a different drawing. Four figures are standing in a meadow of red flowers: there’s a red head, tall and wearing a white triangle dress—Pepper, she’s holding hands with a tiny stick figure, a pigtailed brunette wearing a small, pink triangle dress—Maria, and next to her is what you assume is you, taller than her but shorter than the figure next to her, smiling and holding hands with her and him, tall stick figure in rectangle pants and blue shirt—Tony.

She once asked, “We’re family?” Maybe it wasn’t directed at you at all.

You feel foolish for thinking she never saw you as family, when she always has. This drawing is proof of that.

You put it aside to frame it the next chance you get.

“Where do you want these?”

You pause to look over your shoulder. Pietro stands at the entrance of the office with a box with the written word: clothes that was stored in the garage. “Take them to Wanda and Maria. They have the clothes pile.”

He nods and disappears down the hallway.

Placing the rest of the drawings in a box, you’re taken by surprise when a folded paper falls to your feet. You eye it curiously as you pick it up. It’s worn, like it’s been opened and stored away so many times, but kept safe and guarded. Following the lines, you carefully unfold it.

Colorful lines greet your eyes and your breath stalls in your throat, hand slapping over your mouth to keep you from gasping aloud.

A row of buildings of different color are etched onto the piece of paper, blue water colored hastily and out of line, a simple boat that looks more like a banana floating in the middle of it while it carries a little stick figure holding a much taller one by the hand, identical curved lines spread wide on their round faces. Your name is written messily in the corner and right under it, in much neater writing than your messy one are the words; one day.

You slide to the floor, eyes scanning over the drawing endlessly, trying to desperately convince yourself that it couldn’t be yours, that he couldn’t have kept it all this time—why would he?

“Daddy! Daddy!” You started from your place in his office, dragging the book with you as you ran to him, not caring that you were slurring words. “This really a city on water?”

Tony, who had been reading over something looked up and smiled when you shoved the book of different places around the world in his face. “It is.”

“Can we go, puhlease, daddy?” You glanced up at him, doing your best to wobble your bottom lip.

He chuckled. “Better learn how to swim first, kiddo.”

You frowned, staring at the picture in your book. “You think momma will sign me up for swimming?” Mom didn’t seem to like it when you wanted to do things without her anymore.

He picked you up and settled you on his lap, staring down at the picture over your shoulder. “Don’t worry, kid. If she says no, I’ve got your back.”

You beamed, eyes wide with excitement and childlike wonder. “So we can go?”

“One day,” he said, pressing a soft kiss to your temple.

Tiny arms wrap around your neck from behind, warmth spreading around you. Maria's soft voice echoes in your head, reminding you that Tony did love you. He always loved you.

Your eyes lift from the paper and standing at the door is Steve. He watches you, eyes soft and warm and restraining himself physically from running to you by grabbing onto the door frame. Instead, he stays in place as Maria holds you as you allow yourself to cry.

It takes two weekends and a couple days in between to clean up the house. Truthfully, most of the time, you find yourself hating it; hating yourself, hating this, hating Tony, hating mom, everything. It’s emotional and draining and it takes a lot of breaks and quiet moments to recollect yourself, but you somehow manage, especially when you tell yourself to be strong for Maria.

It’s hard to part with Tony and Pepper’s things. Especially now that your feelings are all over the place; it’s like you’re giving up a part of them that you never allowed yourself to see and learn. It breaks your heart.

It’s even harder for Maria.

She clings to your waist, watching as Steve and Pietro load a rented truck with the things that you don’t really need, but could have kept if you wanted to. You had both agreed there are people out there that need them more than you.

She’s trying to be strong, but the tight hold on your waist says otherwise, and you don’t blame her. While you’re giving up a part of them you never tried to get to know, she's giving up every single thing she knew about them and loved them for. But Maria understood that it was time to move on, for your sake, and hers. And with Steve’s help, you did compromise. You both kept a couple of things of theirs that you just couldn’t bare part with. You weren’t letting go of Tony and Pepper completely.

You smooth her hair out of her face and she looks up at you with red eyes and you flash her a watery smile that she returns.

“I’m okay,” she says, as if reading your mind. Your thumb caresses her cheekbone as you cup her jaw, gently pressing her closer to you. “We’ll be okay.”

Yeah. You will be.

With the last of the boxes on the truck, Wanda turns to you with a patient and caring gaze. “You ready?”

“Readier than we’ll ever be.”

You help Maria into the passenger side of the truck and then slide in yourself after buckling her in. Steve hops into the driver's seat and looks at you as he starts the truck. You give him a small nod and smile and with one of his own, he pulls out of the driveway.

The ride to the shelter is quiet, the only sound coming from the radio station. Occasionally, you catch Steve staring at you and every time you do, you’d smile. The arm wrapped around Maria lifts from her small body to rub his shoulder, hoping to ease his worry, and it works because soon he’s more relaxed in his seat, no longer rigid.

Another thirty minutes in traffic and soon you arrive at your destination, a shelter for families from low income neighborhoods to come together and do activities and have healthy options for food, as well as a place to stay for families that have been forcibly relocated or lost their homes.

According to Steve and Maria, Tony and Pepper would donate a hefty amount of their personal savings and would hold charity events to help raise money for it—it being the Avengers Shelter. Before Steve made the suggestion, you had heard of the place, but you didn’t know Pepper and Tony were somehow associated with the foundation.

Apparently, they kept their donations a secret from most, never reporting it in their taxes. And the charity events were credited to the firm, not them, even if they were the hosts.

(“They saw no point,” Steve answered when you asked why. “Didn’t believe that good deeds should be announced, just… done.”

You frowned and leaned your head against the window. If you had known, maybe your stubborn ass wouldn’t have minded being linked to Tony and the firm so much.)

You help Maria out of the truck just as the back door of the place opens to reveal Sam, who flashes you a wide grin. At the familiar face, Maria wiggles out of your hold and runs to him, greeting him jovially. Clint and Natasha appear behind him along with a few other employees from the firm that you recognize.

Natasha gathers you into a tight hug as you greet her. “Come, let's leave the boys to do the heavy lifting.”

Clint rolls his eyes, but he agrees with his wife. “Go, take a tour, you’re gonna love the place.” He surprises you with a small kiss to your cheek before joining Steve and the others.

Natasha laughs at the expression on your face. “Well?”

Your eyes meets Steve’s and he tilts his head towards the shelter and you bite your lip before nodding. “All right.” Maria skips back to you as you hold your hand out for her.

You follow Natasha inside and immediately, apart from all the noise of children laughing and playing, are hit with cinnamon and nutmeg?

Natasha, noticing you sniffing the air, smirks and leads you to a closed door. “Baking classes. I think they’re making cinnamon spice cookies.”

Maria’s eyes light up. “Can I join?”

“There’s another class in an hour that you can join,” a female voice behind you announces, one that Maria seems to recognize because her head perks up and she smiles brightly not just at the opportunity to be in the class, but the person. “Hello, we haven’t had the pleasure of meeting, yet. My name is Maria Hill.”

You accept her handshake and return her polite smile with your own name.

“She’s the Director of the foundation,” Natasha explains as Hill leads you deeper into the place.

A child runs between your group and apologizes loudly, screaming something about being late for some kind of practice. Hill shakes her head fondly, calling out to the child to be more careful.

“So,” you start, glancing around and taking in the picnic tables with adults and children eating or helping one another with something—homework, paperwork, projects etc. Hill called it the Open Space. “You’re the reason why this place is so well taken care of and loved.”

She looks at you over her shoulder briefly before leading you outside to grassy terrain and Maria excuses herself by asking for permission to go play. Natasha goes with her. “As much as I’d like to take the credit, it’s actually all thanks to Nick Fury and your father, Miss Stark. They founded this place when it was most needed. I’m only helping grow what they’ve built.”

That news is a revelation to you. “I didn’t even know they founded this place.”

“Tony did prefer keeping some of his achievements private, surprisingly enough,” she jokes as you watch over the children playing on the small field. “But Fury has never shied from his accomplishments as Director, even after retiring he likes to remind me that he’s the reason they were able to secure this plot of land.”

You snort.

“I want to thank you,” Hill suddenly says and your head whips in her direction. “For the clothes and everything. I know it isn’t easy to give up their things, especially so soon after…” It’s been a couple of months, a little over half a year, but it still feels so fresh.

You press your lips together, one side lifting slowly. “It’s not, but we have to learn to let go at some point, don’t we?”

She studied you for a moment before smiling warmly at you. “As long as you take your time.”

Your pull at the hem of your shirt. “Miss Hill, if there’s any way I can help—“

She grips your shoulder gently. “Don’t worry, Tony and Pepper made sure that even after they’re gone, we’d be financially secure. We are, however, always looking for volunteers. And a secretarial position just opened up, if you’re interested.”

Your eyes widen. “I’d love to volunteer, but I don’t know about the job.”

“You’re still a student, correct?” You nod and she smiles. “Well, you’ll always have a job here, Fury made sure of that. Said that if his favorite ankle biter ever came around asking for a job, that we made sure we had one.”

You cringe; that definitely sounds like Nick all right. “I’m sorry.”

She laughs. “Don’t be. I’ve seen your resume.” You raise about eyebrow at that. “Besides Fury doesn’t vouch for just any body and I trust his judgement.” Her eyes move from your face to over your shoulder and she offers you one last squeeze and smile before pulling out a card from her pocket and handing it to you. “I should be heading back inside. If you have any questions, let me know.” You thank her and she gives a quick nod before leaving you.

Hands settle on your shoulders and they shake you gently, playfully. “What do you think so far?” Steve asks, his lips close enough to your ear to brush against your skin.

You lean back into him. “Why did Tony try to hide this?”

His hands travel down the length of your arms and they wrap around your waist, securing you against him. “He didn’t,” Steve answers, a little hesitant and that’s when you know it’s not because he wanted to hide this from you. It’s because you didn’t want to listen.

Your eyes water as Maria plays with the other kids, chasing them around the courtyard. “I really messed up, didn’t I?”

His hold on you tightens and your hands land on his thicker ones. He presses a kiss to your temple. “No. You didn’t. You couldn’t have known.”

“But I could have,” your voice cracks and your head hangs low. “If I had just—if I hadn’t been so angry—“

He sighs and it tickles your ear, but you don’t move, allowing him to take hold of your hands as his warmth leaves your back. “I want to show you something.”

He leads you back inside and you look back at Maria and Natasha, finding Natasha’s eyes on you, a small smile on her face.

“We won’t be gone for long,” he reassures you, squeezing your hand.

Steve leads you upstairs, towards the offices of the staff and stands in front of the door. He lets go of your hand and turns on his heels to look down at you. “This—this was Pepper’s and Tony’s office.”

Your heart leaps and your take a step back. “Steve—“

He reaches for your wrist, holding it gently in his large hands. “I think… I think you should see this.”

His blue eyes are gently and full of patience, searching your face for who knows what. You shift on your feet, wondering whether or not you should convince Steve to take you elsewhere, but instead you let out a loud sigh and nod. “Okay.”

He lets go of your wrist to reach for the doorknob. “For two years now, Pepper was dividing her time between the firm and this place, so most of everything here was hers, except for—“ he opens the door and he steps aside to let you in, but you immediately regret it.

It’s another punch to the gut and your heart can’t take it anymore. It was so much easier when you thought Tony didn’t care about you, so much easier when you hated him. Now your emotions are all over the place and you don’t know what to make of them anymore.

On the right wall, opposite of the left wall full of bookshelves is a mural, a very familiar mural. Your little drawing that you made years ago covered every inch of the wall. How—?

“Tony wasn’t planning on just asking if you could be Maria’s guardian during the trip to the cabin, he was hoping you’d go to Venice with him the summer you graduate,” he whispers. “He wouldn’t stop talking about how when you were a little girl, you loved the idea of a city floating on water.” He chuckles, stuck in his own memories of Tony. He sighs fondly, his own eyes most likely on the simple mural of your five year old imagination. “He wanted to make that a reality for you one day.”

One day.

There isn’t going to be a one day because you were horrible, because you couldn’t for one moment give him a chance! Because your mother was vindictive and full of pettiness. Hatred, sorrow, confusion, every single emotion known to man crawls in your stomach, fighting upwards towards your head, pounding and pounding, trying to win a lost battle. You stagger back, but his arms wrapping around you stop you from falling on your ass. “I—“

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

You breathe harshly and he gently coaxes you to turn to look at him, but you keep your gaze fixated on his shirt. “Steve, I—I think I need help,” you whisper.

His finger hooks under your chin, lifting your head to meet your gaze. “Hey, whatever you need, sweetheart, I’m here for you.”

Your lashes cling together, your nose burning as the tears begin to spring up. “No, Steve. I think I need professional help. I can’t—I’m feeling too much and I feel so overwhelmed, I—don’t know what to do,” you whisper harshly. “I don’t want to feel this way anymore!”

If it’s possible, his eyes get even softer and his bottom lip wobbles with yours, understanding and compassion flashing in his beautiful blue eyes. “Then we’ll find it. We’ll find help.”

You sob, pressing yourself against his warm body and cry, mourning for the man you never got to know, for the hurt your mother has caused, for the little girl that’s relying on you, and most of all, for the little girl who used to wait for her dad she thought had forgotten about her.

a/n: we’re getting closer to the end and so much is still being unraveled and somethings are slowly being answered. the next chapter (or two) will answer a lot of unanswered questions or might even bring up new ones, who knows -insert winking emoji- lemme know what you thought and maybe your theories?

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers #steve rogers imagine #reader insert #marvel imagine #steve rogers fanfic

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