after midnight — steve rogers
pairing: college!steve rogers x reader, college!peter parker x reader
forewarning: 18+ only, friends to lovers, cheating, smut (if you squint), asshole!peter (ooc peter), sexual themes throughout, spiderman exists and cap doesn't bc i wanna
wc: 1.8k+
summary: you're left scorned by your lovers betrayal, but maybe there's always been someone right under your nose who can pick up the pieces.
“He won’t like it.” You were sitting on his lap, trying to stay engaged even if his arm was wrapped around your body keeping you in place. The group of people at the party were increasing and the odds of your ex showing up was causing your nerves to skyrocket through the roof.
“If you’re involved, I’ll be more than happy to comply kitten.” His breath causing a tingle to draw up your spine, his body pressed more than tightly against yours. “Who gives a fuck what the asshole likes? It’s not my problem he was dumb enough to get his dick wet by someone who wasn’t you.”
It was true, you had caught him spearing into his best friend who he told you to never worry about. Until you found them fucking in his bed. It was comical really. You arrived early from visiting your family over the holidays, anxiously excited to see your boyfriend of two years.
Until you walked into his apartment, the scene setting the tone for what you’d find. His clothes and hers’ lead a path into the bedroom to find them tangled, sweat and regret were written all over their guilty faces when they finally acknowledged you. It took them a minute or two as you watched as he fucked her. You wished it would have been hard and fast — a means to a horny end. But it wasn’t like that at all.
It was slow and passionate as you saw him whisper in her ear like he meant to be there and not anywhere else. You listened to her whines, chanting his name over and over again — her pants and his moans burying you in the grave.
Then, he saw you.
Tears were the first thing he noticed, the stained ones on your cheeks and new ones that you couldn’t stop from coming out. Not a word came from you as he slid out of her and rushed to find some clothes. She grabbed the sheet from the bed and walked straight past you, too shameful and embarrassed to meet your eyes.
“I think I should go.” You whispered, too shocked and betrayed to fully process what he’d done to the both of you. “Please don’t. We should talk about this.”
“Talk about what, Peter? How we’re having issues of you not trusting me with Steve, who is the only family I’ve ever had, and then you decide this would be a great time to fuck your best friend?”
He was speechless, no words were able to fall from his lips. There was no apology or redeemable line he could spit because he knew you hated him. He hated himself and now you did too. It wasn’t like he meant for you to find out this way, but Gwen knew he was spider-man. He could confide to her in ways he couldn’t with you. Paired with his trust issues with you, Gwen was there to wipe away every stressed tear.
Then, there was Steve Rogers — stupidly muscular, star wide receiver standing at 6’4”, and a smile that everyone fell for. He’d known you since you were fourteen and would always know you in ways Peter could never measure up to and it infuriated him.
It didn’t help that women threw themself at Steve, yet he always ended up rejecting them all. Peter had an inkling on why and it was the reason for why the two of you had been fighting for weeks.
You love Peter more than anything and you just wanted him to see that, so you got an early flight out wanting to surprise him. Mentally agreeing to take a step back on your friendship with Steve if it's took to make your relationship work in the long run, it’s what had to be done. In time, you tried to convince yourself it was the for the best.
Now, you realized Peter had just been projecting his own guilt.
“I wanted to tell you how sorry I am for making you feel like Steve was more important, but I guess you’re the one who should be.” You allowed yourself to meet his doe brown eyes like he was caught in the headlight. He was crying too and it made you feel better it some sick, narcissistic way.
“I never meant for any of this to happen. I love you. She means nothing to me, I promise.” He tried to plead, but he could tell you were more than fed up with him.
“Peter, you realize how incredibly absurd you sound? You love me? You don’t do this to someone you love. Gwen is your best friend and clearly she means more to you than I do. If you even respected me at all, the least you could have done was break up with me first.” The calm tone you spoke in was sending chills down his spine.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know what else I can say to fix this.” He tried to step forward but you just took two steps back.
“I just hope she was worth it.” You left and he didn’t follow you — didn’t call and didn’t text you. You spent the next three weeks crying your eyes out, mourning what you thought might have been your forever.
Steve was there for you, wouldn’t leave actually. He’d been bringing a bag every time he came over, filled with goodies for you, and an extra change of clothes for him to change into in the morning. He held you as your cries vibrated his chest, doing his absolute best to calm you down. It was really taking everything in him not to pummel Peter but you had wished him not to so he didn’t.
The days were starting to get better, you had stopped crying and calling out Peter’s name in your sleep.
Your roommate, Nat, had been making herself scarce ever since her and Bucky started dating a few months ago. Leaving Steve and you to be alone. You were thankful for it, you didn't need anyone else to see the heartbreak you were constantly wearing on your sleeve.
“Come with me tonight. It’ll be fun.” Steve’s attempt to coax out of the four walls of your home. Besides class, you hadn’t really gone anywhere no matter how much he begged you and he was doing quite a lot of it lately.
Part of him only having his selfish agenda in mind, but the softer, kinder bits of his soul just wanted to see you happy again. You’d been tense, a bit bitter even. Anyone who knew you in the slightest could tell, and Steve was fortunate enough to be one of those few you happened to let in.
Maybe he just wants to see the light in her eyes shine again and hear your big, bright filled laugh dance on his senses again. You were pulling from within yourself, practically drowning and he was holding onto you dear life but you can only save someone from themselves if they’re willing to accept it.
“I don’t know, Steve. What if he’s there?” You asked him, trying to summon up the best excuses you could come up with. “Then we’ll make him regret cheating on the most beautiful woman alive.” The cheekiest of smiles etched on his face as he flashed you his dazzling blues. So full of hope almost like he knew what was coming.
Truth is, you could never say no to him — never have. It’s how you ended up here perched on his lap surrounded by his friends and yours. With liquor in your system and the devil’s lettuce coursing through you, making you feel lighter than the heartache Peter had served you.
You knew Steve was a flirt by nature, it was practically in his blood, but he was laying it on thick tonight. He wouldn’t let you leave his side, not that you were against it. His touch was intoxicating, even more so knowing how many women came up to him tonight wanting a piece of him. He didn’t even entertain it though. Not tonight, not when you were single and for the first time since ever timing was aligning just right for him.
It was like he wanted for you to know he was the one touching you, the one making you feel better. It was all him and no one else.
Three in the morning is when everyone seemed to funnel out, the people who were sticking around were the frat boys who lived here and their girlfriends. The two of you had barely moved all night, your ass practically glued to his lap.
You were playing with his hair, raking it through your fingers as he hummed out in acceptance of your touch. Just like he’d been doing all night and you weren’t sober enough to dismiss his low moans making every part of you want every part of him.
“Stay the night, kitten.” His thick fingers finding home on your hips, delicately rubbing his thumb against the thin fabric of your pretty, lilac dress.
“The both of us know that’s probably not the best idea.”
“I think it’s a great idea. I think you do, too.” Fuck.
“Stevie, I just broke up with him and it’s not even about Peter. You are everything to me — one night of drunken, hot sex isn’t going to take my pain away. I need you in my life, always.”
“I really want to hear more about this hot sex we’d be having, just a tad bit intrigued, but who said anything about one night?” He had you cornered, his words making stubbles incoherent words fall from your lips. Of course, causing him to laugh like a fucking angel.
“Steve, I will literally kill you and everyone in this house if you ever tell anyone what I just said. Let’s just forget this conversation, okay?”
“Why would you think I wouldn’t want more than one night?” He questioned you, but you looked away from him. Trying to pull away but he wouldn’t let you.
“I-I’m not sure. You’re just…you’re you and I’m me.” You moved your hands to your sides wanting nothing more than to vanish into thin air. He smelled so good and his touch felt like a scolding hot fire, burning you up from the inside out.
“Plus, you don’t exactly seem like you’d want more than that. Not like I’m looking right now, I’m the last person that needs to be diving into a relationship.”
“Who’s to say I’m not?” His voice reaches an octave lower than it should, sending wanted waves down to your core.
“Come on, be honest. It’s just me.” You felt anxious now, the moment turning into something you never expected — a side you’d never thought could be viewed from your eyes.
Carefully and calculated, he brought his thumb before tugging at your bottom, plump lip. Fighting his own urge to choke you with it.
“I would want more than one night with you.” His free hand moved so it rested on your ass, his touch so soft you weren’t even sure if it was there. “But I’ll take it if that’s all you want to give.”
He was waiting for you to make a move, to do something, anything.
“Let’s see what that mouth can do first, Stevie.”