FANDOM: Marvel
CHARACTER: Steve Rogers/Captain America, Reader
RATING: T
WORD COUNT: 2,500 ( from the bottom of my heart, my bad )
SUMMARY: Tony is, for once, not a cockblock.
Standing in the elevator on your way to the downstairs kitchen of Stark Tower, you realized something.
Sharon Carter was perfect.
Her blonde hair was always perfectly curled, collared shirt perfectly ironed and buttoned, voice always perfectly level and flirty and everything that yours wasn’t. Even worse, it was so, so goddamn hard to hate her; you’d never seen her act unkindly or lose her temper.
And the way Steve looked at her, eyes alight and smiling slightly, leaning in whenever she spoke. Whenever she make a joke, he’d laugh like she’d said the funniest thing he’d ever heard.
Did Steve ever look at you, his best friend, like that?
You wondered what it would be like to have Steve be interested in you in that sort of way, but that was impossible. Sharon was a crack-shot with a handgun and could take down 2 trained fighters at once. You worked with Tony in tech and maybe could type 170 words per minute on a good day. Yes, you and Steve had history, but Carter was a knockout. To compare you to Sharon would be like comparing a vulture to a swan.
“Hey, Y/N, do you want us to pick anything up for you?” asks a feminine voice.
Sharon and Steve stepped into the elevator with you, smiles on their faces as if they’d been having the most wonderful conversation together.
“Oh,” you start, blinking. “No, I’m alright, thanks.”
“You sure?” asks Steve furrowing his brows. “It wouldn’t be any trouble at all. You’ve gotta be sick of Tony’s food.”
“I’ll survive,” you reply all-too-cheerfully. Your running shorts and t-shirt and unbrushed hair contrast sharply with Sharon’s pristine white collared shirt and heels. “I don’t think he’s contaminated the eggs, yet,” you grin.
Steve and Sharon laugh, remembering the time Stark experimented on the contents of the fridge, then forgot which foods he’d messed with. Steve looks great, as usual, dressed casually in jeans and a gray hoodie. You’ve worn that hoodie before, watching movies in your room with him and catching him up on all the important aspects of pop culture, notably Star Wars.
“Good thing we have you to keep him in line,” chuckles Steve. “This place would be a mess without you.”
The elevator doors chime open at the bottom floor, and the three of you get out.
“I’ll grab you an omlette,” calls Steve, waving over his shoulder at you. You smile, shaking your head as you wave back, then turn towards the entrance to the kitchen.
The two of them can be perfect together, you thought miserably, shuffling towards the stainless steel fridge. The image of Steve accompanying Sharon out the doors of Stark Tower to grab lunch together was ingrained in your memory as you closed the refrigerator door slightly harder than you intended.
“You want me to pull that stick out of your ass?” calls Tony, leaning his hand on a kitchen countertop and taking a sip from a mug of coffee with the words, “I AM IRON MAN” plastered on the front.
“So helpful,” you snarked, drinking straight out of the bottle of juice.
“We aren’t Cro-magnons here,” chides your boss, grinning exaggeratedly as he opens a cabinet and hands you a glass. “Actually, maybe you are. I can’t tell just from looking at you.”
You shoot him a look and pour the orange juice into the cup, putting the jug back into the fridge, then sullenly take a drink.
“What’s your beef? What’s the problem? The issue?” fires off Tony, speaking rapidly.
“I haven’t eaten breakfast,” you lie. “I’m heading out right now.”
“You wouldn’t rather help me design my next suit?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. “It’s for an important person.”
You roll your eyes and take another swig of juice. Tony immediately catches your drift.
“No, not me, even though I am important. Whaddya say?”
“Sure,” you respond glumly. Even Tony has a special someone.
“There we go,” he grins, clapping an arm around your shoulders and steering you out of the room towards the elevator. “I tend to have a positive emotional effect on people.”
“Uh-huh,” you reply, flashing him a quick smile to reassure him that everything’s nothing’s wrong.
You can’t quite focus on what Tony’s saying as you wait to get to his workshop’s floor. Steve and Sharon sitting next to each other at team bonding nights. Steve and Sharon laughing together. Steve proposing to Sharon. Steve and Sharon’s wedding invitation in your hands. Steve and Sharon at the altar. Y/N with 40 cats.
“And here she is,” crows Tony, gesturing widely to a replica of his own suit.
“Wait, why does this need design advice?”
“Because, Y/N, it’s for a female, and given that I have a dick, importantly, a big di-”
“Okay, okay, I get it,” you groan, trying not to smile as you slap a hand over your face. “Female aesthetic advice. Got it. Pepper?”
“Think intelligent, funny, and in control.“
After a few of hours, you volunteer to grab a couple of drinks for you and Tony. Working with the suits is exhausting both physically and mentally, and you always end up sweaty.
You head down twenty or so floors to the kitchen, grabbing a couple of lemonades and a bag of skittles. (”No, Tony, you can’t have beer at three in the afternoon.”)
Waiting in the elevator on the way back up, you check your phone.
TONY: Hurry, I have a surprise for you ;)
A smile creeps over your face as you stride out of the elevator, down the hall, and into the workshop, beaming as you see – Sharon in the suit?
She’s laughing as the face mask peels back, Steve and Tony grinning admiringly up at her.
“It fits perfectly!” she bubbles, teeth pearly white as she laughs.
“Stark Tech. I designed it to fit any wearer. Female, wearer,” he adds.
Steve turns around, face lighting up as he sees you.
“Y/N! I ended up grabbing you an omelette,” he blushes, briefly averting his eyes.
“Oh,” you breathe, trying to hold yourself together as you take the white takeout box from his hands. Ignoring the fact that his fingers linger on your own until you pull the box into your chest, you plaster a wide smile on your face and change your voice to sound peppier. “Thanks, Steve.”
His smile fades a bit, but he still looks happy.
“Y/N, you’re a genius!” calls Sharon, waving mechanically at you from inside of the suit you had been designing only fifteen minutes ago. The two of them must have come up while you were in the kitchen grabbing snacks. “This is amazing!”
“It was all Tony,” you reply, smiling politely. “I just tweaked the exterior.”
“It looks great,” adds Steve, gazing at the machine admiringly. “Would you mind if I drew it?” he asks, cheeks tinging a slight pink. Sharon looks at you excitedly.
“Yeah, go right ahead.” You notice Tony hasn’t said a word, and instead has been watching you curiously for the past five minutes. “I’ve gotta take a call,” you lie. “Sharon, the suit looks great on you,” you add, putting on a smile as your voice cracks slightly on the last word.
Tony opens his mouth, but before he can say anything, you’re out the door and watching the elevator doors close from the inside as you press the button for the ground floor.
You start walking towards Central Park; it takes you a little over twenty minutes to get there after you almost get hit by an errant driver. On the way, you realize you’re still clutching the omelette box, so you plop tiredly down onto a bench and open the lid.
Despite the shitty mood you’re in, the food is admittedly delicious. Steve had somehow remembered you liked tomatoes and bell peppers and extra cheese, and made sure to include it in your meal.
Throwing the box into the trashcan next to you, you lean back into the bench and take a deep breath. Someone sits down next to you, so you keep your eyes trained on the busy street about fifty feet in front of you. A jogger runs by, then a tall man in a tux, then a family of four. Tourists, probably. Yellow cabs weave between sports cars and the occasional bicyclist, the sounds of horns honking and the chatter of pedestrians filling the air with noise.
“Are you okay?” You turn, startled, to your left to look at the person who’d sat down next to you only five minutes ago.
“Steve? What are you doing here?”
“You seemed flustered when you left,” he replies sheepishly. “I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“Just a long day,” you sigh, trying to smile. “I was going to head back anyway.”
Steve licks his lips like he’s nervous, leaning against the backrest of the bench. The smell of musky cologne and chocolate is intoxicating, and you can’t believe you hadn’t noticed it before. Before, only 21 days ago, when you were closer than this.
“Do you want to talk about it? It’d stay between us,” he adds, blue eyes hopeful.
God damn it, Rogers, I can never say no to you.
“Absolutely,” he grins, watching you turn to face him and move your feet onto the bench with your arms around your knees.
“There’s been so much to do lately with Pietro being back and Tony making more suits. And I found out a few weeks ago that the guy I like is interested in someone else.”
You glance up at him from your shoes to see that his smile has fallen.
“For who?” Pressing your lips gently together, you look back at the busy street and the people milling around.
You brainstorm adjectives to describe Sharon in a subtle and not-rude way.
“She’s gorgeous and smart, for starters. I’ve met maybe four guys who weren’t attracted to her, and to top it all off, she’s a complete badass.”
“She sounds like someone I know,” Steve responds, voice trailing off at the end.
Motherfucking shithead on a stick. He knows. He knows I like him. Time to move to fucking Antarctica and die with the goddamn penguins.
“Any guy would be blind to pass you over,” Steve says quietly and firmly, eyes meeting yours. “I don’t know why he would choose her.”
“Me neither,” you sigh in relief. Your phone pings from your pocket, revealing a text from Tony.
TONY: as much as i like to watch you leave, I’d rather see your pretty face in your new suit in t-minus ten minutes.
“I’ve gotta head back,” you apologize, standing up. “Duty calls.”
Steve walks with you back to the Tower, and the two of you catch up. It feels good to have Steve back, to have your best friend back after three weeks of Sharon-induced separation.
As you walk down the hall towards the entrance to the workshop, he pauses and turns to face you.
“Y/N, I know for the past few weeks, I haven’t had the chance to spend as much time with you as I wanted.” He swallows, eyes meeting yours again. “If you ever want to talk, I’d honestly love to listen.”
You can’t help but smile, this time genuinely. Steve’s one of the kindest, most considerable people you’ve ever met, and he’s leaning in and you legitimately just might kiss him-
Sharon and Tony are suddenly in the hallway with you and Steve, Tony wrapping his arm around your shoulders and steering you into the workshop, the door whirring shut behind you.
“You have a thing for Capsicle.” You shoot him a look, feeling a blush creep up your neck. “Tell him.”
Tony rolls his eyes and groans exasperatedly, leaning back against his worktable.
“He and Sharon aren’t an item. Steve’s a free man, Y/N, and I’m telling you, you have a chance.”
“Tony, shut up,” you respond sharply, ducking your head as your throat tightens. “That’s not funny.”
He reaches out and grips your shoulder, using a finger to lift your chin.
“I swear to God, any guy would be lucky to have you. You’re the whole package, honey, and he knows it.” You blink to keep back tears, staring at the ground and feeling like a piece of shit.
“Y/N,” soothes Tony, uncharacteristically softly. “I don’t make promises, but I can promise you that Steve has liked you since the moment he started talking to you.”
You pull him into a hug, tucking your face into Tony’s chest as he slowly wraps his arms around you.
“Now that I’ve used up my kindness and purity for the day, I’m gonna tell you to go get him.”
You laugh, slowly at first.
“Pure?” He shrugs, a lopsided grin on his face.
“I regrow my virginity every night.”
“God damn it, Tony,” you snort, running a finger quickly across both of your eyes. “I’ll talk to him after dinner.”
Dinner comes and goes all too quickly. Sharon leaves shortly beforehand, leaving you, Tony, Steve, Clint, Nat, and Bruce to yourselves.
You decide to go to your room to avoid talking to Steve, stepping inside the elevator and taking a deep breath as the doors start to close.
“Y/N?” Steve steps through the double doors, pausing in front of you as they close behind him. He’s standing in front of the directory panel, so you can’t press the button to your floor.
“I wanted to tell you that you might have the wrong idea about me and Sharon.”
“Oh,” you reply. “I-That’s-Alright.”
“She’s beautiful and smart, and she’s a complete ‘badass’, like you said,” he says, and you feel your heart start to sink.
You’re had one of the shittiest days of your life, and your best friend, the guy you’re half in love with, is telling you about the great qualities of Sharon Carter, secret agent extraordinaire.
“But we’re just friends, and I didn’t want you to think we were partners.”
Reaching around him, you press the button for your floor and feel the elevator start to rise.
“Steve, please, stop,” you whisper, not trusting yourself to speak loudly or look him in the eye without crying. “I think it’s really great you get along with Sharon.”
At this point, Steve looks like a kicked puppy, and his hand has moved into yours.
“No, Y/N, I wasn’t trying to make you upset,” he murmurs apologetically. “I wanted to ask you out on a date. For coffee.” Your best friend rambles on. “I think you’re the most beautiful and smart woman I’ve ever met, and I know we haven’t spent as much time together as I wanted, so I was going to ask you if you wanted to be something more-”
Reaching up to cup his face, you kiss him, feeling him lean into you and wrap his arms around your waist until you pull back for air.
“I-I had a speech planned out,” he smiles, sheepishly pulling a folded piece of paper out of his pocket.
“Why don’t you read it to me tomorrow over coffee?” you grin, spirits soaring.
“I’d like that,” he smiles, holding your hand and walking you out of the elevator to your room.
Tony grins smugly at the dining table as he watches the video feed from the security camera in the elevator. Everyone else is crowded around him, smiling from ear to ear.
The door behind them swings open, banging against the wall to reveal a breathless Pietro.
“What are you looking at? What did I miss?”
The Sokovian dodges the shoe that Clint throws at his head, zipping forward to look at Y/N and Steve pressed tightly against one another on the screen.
“Oh. I did not see that coming.”
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