Summary: Steve’s lack of sex life and Bucky’s desperation to stop hearing about it leads to the idea of Steve sleeping with you, Bucky’s girlfriend. Turns out that was the best idea they’ve ever had.
Bucky and Steve had been best friends for a long time now.
They would do anything and everything for each other, a bond between them that was damn near unbreakable and one that had withheld even the most chaotic and hardest challenges.
They stood by each other, looked out for one another, and they supported each other.
And sometimes, they shared things. Weapons, jackets, armor, you.
Oh yeah. You.
You’re Bucky’s girlfriend of the last two years, and to say he was out of his mind obsessed with you would be an understatement. He’s in love with you, there was no doubt to anyone about that. You’re his girl.
His girl who is also quite close with his best friend.
It didn’t start out that way. No, Bucky is very possessive of you, he wants to claim you, have you all to himself for as long as he’s alive. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t opposed to sharing you with Steve on occasion.
The whole thing didn’t make any sense. Bucky is so protective and possessive and aggressive when it comes to you, but he didn’t care that Steve also found you unbelievably hot.
Steve had been a lonely guy for most of his life, and he hadn’t let himself open up to anyone in quite some time. Bucky, being his best friend, often was the person Steve rambled on to about his non-existent love life, and how he wishes he could be one of those guys who fucks a girl then moves on without a blink.
But he’s not. He needs to be friends with people, he needs to connect with someone, he needs to know the person he’s sleeping with before he sticks his dick in her.
One night, Bucky had invited Steve over to his place since you’d be working late and he was bored, but when the blond arrived, he couldn’t stop talking about how the girl he just went on a date with kept trying to get in his pants throughout the whole thing. He complained about how he wanted to wait until at least the fifth date before he has sex with her, but she seemed persistent on wanting to do it on the first.
Safe to say Steve wouldn’t be seeing her again.
He had switched to the topic of his sex life and how he had to jerk off most nights since people these days just want to hookup and that’s it. You’d come home halfway through that conversation, and you were morbidly intrigued to hear more, so when Bucky spread his legs and patted his thigh, you eagerly sat down on his lap to listen to Steve’s rant.
It was after midnight, and Bucky had been in this exact position on the couch for the last four hours, his attention span really getting tested as he rolled his head to the side and stared at the muted TV screen that was playing a past football game. Bucky didn’t care for sports, but he didn’t think he could take listening to Steve complain about the lack of sex in his life for one more minute before he drives his head through the flat screen.
You were interested though as you shifted on his lap, sipping the last of the beer he’d been using as fuel to get through this conversation, even though he couldn’t actually get drunk. “Jesus, Steve,” you laughed, draping your arm around Bucky’s shoulder. “Your life is so miserable, even I feel tempted to have sex with you just so you can stop complaining about not having been laid in years.”
It was a joke, a harmless jab from his sweet and kind and sexy girlfriend, one that had Steve’s face heating up as he shook his head. But Bucky’s lips curved upwards, his hand on your hip tightening as he thought about it. He really thought about it.
Bucky never planned on sharing you. He wanted you all to himself and no one else, but if he had to share you with anyone, Steve would be the one and only person he’d feel comfortable enough with. He knows Steve’s a good guy, he knows he wouldn’t do anything you didn’t want to do, and he knew that the respect they have for each other was profound and solid.
Steve is well aware of the fact that Bucky plans to spend the rest of his life with you, so he doesn’t need to worry about his friend catching feelings or trying to steal you away from him. It was just sex. A way to get Steve to shut the fuck up about wanting to have sex with someone he knows and not a total stranger.
Bucky gets to have sex with you and then some, and he also gets the rest of you. He gets all of you, so the more he thought about it, the more open he became to the thought of letting Steve sleep with his girlfriend.
It was kind of a win-win in Bucky’s mind since Steve would finally get laid by someone he knows, and Bucky will finally be given a break from all the moping he’s endured from Steve.
And you, well, you got to sleep with a hot guy with full permission from your boyfriend.
“That’s actually not a bad idea,” he spoke up, feeling the way you froze on his lap. He squeezed your hip, metal fingers as gentle as they could be as they grazed the skin of your waist.
“What?” you laughed, looking down at him as you loosely held the neck of the bottle between your fingers. “I was joking, baby.”
But he was looking over at Steve now, and you followed his gaze. The blond furrowed his brows, eyes flickering between yours and Bucky’s as he saw the thought process begin in your mind, your expression relaxing as you thought about what he was suggesting. “Bucky-” Steve sat up a bit straighter, his hands coming up in a defense gesture as he shook his head, as if he was the one who came up with the idea, not Bucky. “Dude, I-”
“What?” Bucky cut him off, leaning back against the couch in a casual slump. “I don’t mind. And as long as she doesn’t mind, I don’t see why not. It’ll finally get you to shut the fuck up about your lack-luster sex life.”
“Bucky,” you laughed, gently slapping his chest. When you looked over at Steve, your expression softened, and you gave him a reassuring smile. “It’s fine, Steve, and it’s fine if you don’t want to. I was just kidding, but I also don’t mind helping you out in that way, if you’d like me to.”
Steve swallowed harshly, his hands rubbing along the front of his jeans. “I wouldn’t… I don’t want to mess things up between the two of you,”
Bucky shrugged, his thumb stroking along your hipbone under your shirt. “We’re fine. We’re solid,”
You nodded in agreement, and Steve’s face was a bright shade of red as he let out a shaky breath, his eyes hesitant, but his body so clearly betraying him. “Sure…” he trailed off, his voice sounding strained even to his own ears. “Okay. Yeah.”
And that was how it started.
That night, you started off with something simple, a blowjob right there on the couch, where Steve came pretty quickly, painting your cheek and chin white since there had to be some rules set in place.
Steve could have you, most of you, but he couldn’t do super intimate things. Coming in your mouth? Hell no. Fucking you raw? Absolutely not. Kissing? There was a fine line with that one. If either you or Bucky thinks he’s going too far, you’ll pull back, or Bucky will grunt at him in warning. It was understandable, because you are still very much Bucky’s girlfriend, and anything that comes across as too intimate was off limits.
But so far so good. And it was so good.
- - -
That night on the couch was a few months ago, and Steve hadn’t complained about his sex life once since then.
It was obvious as to why, because Bucky knows better than anyone how fucking incredible your body is, and how intoxicatingly addictive your pussy is.
Steve was in heaven.
Pure, tight, wet heaven as he fucked into your sweet pussy from behind. You were on your hands and knees on yours and Bucky’s bed, your naked body jolting forward with every sharp fuck of Steve’s hips.
Across the room, sitting on the chair in the corner was Bucky, his jeans pushed down to his thighs, his hard cock in his hand as he lazily stroked it. He’d invited Steve over to hang out and catch up, and then you came home, and things escalated.
Steve was horny, and you were more than willing to let him pull you into the bedroom and have his way with you. It felt like second nature since he’s done it so many times now. And yet he still finds himself feeling a little jealous that you’re Bucky’s girlfriend. You’re Bucky’s. Not Steve’s.
But Steve had become as obsessed with you as Bucky is, but he couldn’t tell either of you that. Bucky would shut it down so fast, go back to having you all to himself and would never let Steve be in the same room as you again.
So he kept it hidden. He was selfish like that, because you and Bucky had both been so selfless, sharing this part of your lives with him. He wasn’t about to fuck it up.
Your moans were music to his ears as he gripped your hips, his fingers digging into your soft skin. “Goddamn,” he muttered, his hips slapping against your ass with every thrust. “You’re such a lucky son of a bitch, Buck.”
Never in a million years did Steve ever think he’d be railing his best friend’s girlfriend while in the same room as him. It was unheard of, and yet he didn’t give a shit.
His praise made you laugh, and Steve moaned louder as Bucky hummed in agreement. “I know, man,” he said, stroking his cock a little faster as he looked over at you, only ever keeping his eyes on you.
“Christ, she’s so fucking tight,” Steve grunted, leaning back to watch the way his cock disappeared deep inside you, then reappeared, the condom covered in your slick. “God, you’re so fucking tight. So warm and wet. Fuck, you feel so good around my cock.”
You moaned, your eyes hooded as a fucked out expression took over your face. Your hands were gripping the sheets tightly, your body jolting forward with every impale of Steve’s cock. The room was filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin, and you moaned as you watched your boyfriend jerk himself off. “Mhm, Bucky loves my tight pussy too, don’t you, baby?” you purred, grinning at the way Steve’s pace stuttered briefly when you clenched around him.
Bucky groaned, his hand sliding up and down his cock. “Fuck yeah, I do,” he muttered, his voice deep and raspy. “Nothing compares to your perfect little cunt, baby. Nothing feels better than you.”
He slowly stood up from the chair, his cock bobbing in his hand as he moved closer to the bed. His jeans hung low on his hips, pulled down just enough for his dick to be freed. You smiled up at him, leaning into his touch when his metal hand came up to caress your chin.
Steve picked up the pace, his fingers curling around your hips more firmly. “Fuck, I can’t believe how good you feel,” he panted, his gaze fixated on where you and he are connected.
You gave him a pretty, way too innocent looking smile over your shoulder, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip. “You feel good too,” you murmured, meeting a few of his thrusts halfway before turning back to Bucky. You reached for him, pulling him closer until his knees were pressed against the front of the bed. “I want you to feel good too, baby.”
You wrapped your hand around his cock, giving it a few slow strokes before you took him into your mouth. Bucky grunted, his hand sliding into your hair as you licked along the underside of his cock. “Fuck, just like that, baby,” he groaned, his hips rocking gently to work himself deeper inside your mouth. “You’re such a good girl. You’re my good girl, aren’t you?”
A muffled moan escaped your lips as you nodded slowly, one hand leaving the sheets to grab Bucky’s hip. Steve’s pace stuttered a bit, one of his hands sliding up to grip your shoulder as he pulled you back onto his cock over and over again. “You’re incredible, Y/n,” he praised, his brows drawn together from the intense pleasure building up inside him. “God, I wish you were mine.”
He didn’t mean for that to come out of his mouth, because he knew that was nearing the line he was not allowed to cross with you and Bucky, but you just laughed. With your mouth around Bucky’s cock, you laughed.
And somehow Steve became even more gone for you.
You pulled away from Bucky, your hand continuing to stroke along his wet cock, and you smiled up at him with your puffy lips and glistening chin. “What are you gonna say to that, baby?” you asked, pressing a soft kiss to the tip of Bucky’s dick. “He wants me too… wishes I were his.”
Steve’s pace stuttered a bit at that, and he didn’t want to meet Bucky’s eyes while he’s balls deep in his girlfriend, and he didn’t want to see the set in his jaw or the look on his face that would let him know that this will be the last time he’ll get to have you like this.
If he had looked up, he would’ve seen the way Bucky’s eyes darkened possessively, and seen the way his hand tightened in your hair. He would’ve seen the hint of jealousy Bucky wasn’t used to feeling around his best friend.
He also would’ve seen that, as quickly as that jealousy formed, it faded just as fast. “He wishes,” Bucky murmured, his voice low and deep and confident as he ran his thumb along your bottom lip. “But you’re mine, baby. My gorgeous, sweet and perfect girl. You just like helping him out sometimes, don’t you? That’s all this is.”
His voice was teasing and a little condescending as he gripped the base of his cock and guided it back to your mouth, and you all too eagerly took him back inside. When Steve did take the chance and lift his gaze, Bucky wasn’t looking at him. Instead he was focused on you, his flesh hand cradling your jaw while his metal one pulled gently on your hair.
He didn’t completely fuck this up and ruin one of the best situations he’s ever accidentally gotten himself in. That was good. This is good.
Steve was close, his thrusts becoming quicker and harder as you whined around Bucky, your eyes fluttering shut. You felt perfect, tight, wet and warm, and he had to grind his teeth together to quiet himself down. Your sounds, even though they were muffled around Bucky’s cock, were the very things he thinks about now when he’s alone, and he’d rather hear you than hear himself.
You clenched around him, and Steve’s pace stuttered once again. “Fuck, I’m close,” he grunted, equally hating and loving how he could never last long with you. You felt far too good, squeezed him just right, and fit him better than anyone else ever had. “You’re so tight.”
You moaned appreciatively as Bucky moved his hand to your throat so he could feel how deep he was inside your mouth. His blue eyes were blown wide with lust as he looked down at you like you were his entire world, his hips moving more urgently as he fucked your mouth. “You feel so good, baby. You’re such a good girl,”
Steve looked down and watched himself slide in and out of you, his hands tightening their hold on your hips. “Jesus, I’m gonna cum,” he rasped, feeling his stomach clench with his impending release.
Bucky pulled out of your mouth, his cock slick with your spit. A string of saliva connected his tip to your lips before it broke, and he grabbed your chin, tilting your face up so you were looking at him. “Clench that pussy for him, baby,” he murmured, brushing his thumb along your swollen lower lip.
You obliged all too willingly, clenching around Steve until he was thrown head first over the edge, his hips jerking and his eyes squeezing shut. His head fell back as he came, filling the condom up and desperately wishing there wasn’t a layer of latex between you and him.
A quiet moan left your lips as you wiggled back against him, nuzzling your face into Bucky’s palm. Steve had to force himself to pull out of you, when all he wanted to do was stay buried inside of you for the rest of the night, but then he watched Bucky lean down to kiss you, and he knew his time, as well as his turn, was up.
When he pulled out of you, you moaned against Bucky’s mouth before moving onto your knees on the bed, your arms draping around your boyfriend’s neck and your chest pressing right up against his. “Your turn, baby,” you murmured against his mouth.
Bucky grinned against your lips before kissing you again, his arms wrapping tightly around your middle as he held you against his hard body.
This was Steve’s least favorite part. He usually got you first, but once he was finished, he had to sit back and watch you and Bucky be all over each other in the way you’d never be all over him. It was bittersweet, mainly bitter. But he still sits through it, because it forces him to realize that he’ll never have all of you like Bucky does. You’ll never be all his, and he’ll never have your heart.
He moved away, still breathing heavily as he slumped onto the chair Bucky had been in only five minutes ago, his body still trembling with the aftershocks of his orgasm.
Bucky’s large hands slid down your body until they found your ass, and he lifted you up against him as he crawled onto the bed, following you down until he was hovering over you and caging you in with his much bigger body. He settled between your legs, the tip of his cock nudging against your core, your slick making it easy for him to push inside you.
“Fuck, you’re still so tight,” he groaned, his forehead dropping against yours as he bottomed out inside you. “So fucking perfect for me.”
He started to move, setting a deep, steady rhythm that had him hitting all the right spots deep inside your weeping pussy. One big hand slid under your thigh, pulling your leg up around his waist so he could go even deeper.
Bucky knew just how to touch you, how to fuck you, how to make you fall apart for him. It came with years of having you like this, of exploring your body and making it his over and over again.
You moaned loudly, your arms wrapping tightly around his shoulders as he fucked into you. “God, yes,” you gasped, tangling your fingers in his hair as you arched your back off the bed. “So good.” Your voice was whiny as your hands slid down Bucky’s broad back until your fingers dug into his ass, your nails leaving half moon indents behind.
Bucky grunted as your nails dug into his skin, urging him to thrust harder and deeper and faster, claiming your body after it was filled by his best friend. This was his favorite part, the part when he got to fuck you like he had a point to prove.
He leaned down and kissed you deeply, swallowing your moans as he fucked you into the bed. He’d been on edge from your mouth, and you’d been on edge from when Steve fucked you, so when he felt you flutter around his cock, he knew you were close. “That’s it, baby,” he muttered against your mouth. “‘M gonna make you cum on my cock.”
You whined against his lips, your body heating up in an intense blush. “Fuck yes, baby,” you moaned, your hands sliding back into his hair. You pulled away from his lips and looked up at him, your brows drawn together in a furrow as he worked you to your high. “I love you so fucking much, Bucky.” you whispered, intending only for him to hear the words, but of course both men heard you.
Bucky leaned down and peppered kisses along your jaw and neck, his deep grunts lost against your skin. “I love you too. So fucking much,” he breathed, sucking a mark onto the base of your throat. “You’re everything to me.”
Steve’s stomach twisted in a nasty feeling he had no right to feel. He had no business being jealous of the two of you, no business being jealous of his best friend when Bucky had been so selfless in sharing this part of you with him because of Steve’s lack of a sex life.
Another reason why he forced himself to sit through this part of the deal.
Bucky ground his hips against yours, his pelvis rubbing against your clit with every deep thrust. “Cum for me, baby,” he mumbled, nuzzling his nose along your jaw before connecting his mouth to yours, swallowing your cries as he felt you clench around him, your release coating his cock with nothing in between to separate you and him.
He grunted into your mouth as he came too, filling you up to the brim as his hips rolled against yours, fucking his cum deeper into you. He pulled away from your mouth and pressed his body against your own, his arms wrapping tightly around your waist.
“Fuck, that was so good,” he panted, burying his face into your neck as you tried to catch your breath.
After a few seconds, he rolled to the side, pulling you flush against his chest as he draped a rather possessive arm over your waist. You giggled softly, cuddling against him as you turned your head and watched Steve stand up and begin to pull on his clothes. “Thank you for a fun last few hours,” you grinned up at him, making Steve meet your gaze as he pulled his jeans back on. “I think I’ll be sore for a while.”
Steve’s mouth curved upwards in a small but genuine smile, and he took a few short steps to the bed, and he leaned down to press a soft kiss to the top of your head. “Thank you,” he said back, his eyes lingering on you for a few more stolen seconds before standing up straight again. “You’re amazing. You always are.”
As he reached for his shirt, Bucky pulled you closer to him, his other hand resting on the curve of your ass. “Mm, I think Bucky wants his cuddles now,” you laughed, breaking eye contact with Steve as you turned over in Bucky’s arms.
He held you against him, your warm, naked body pressed right up against his own. “I always do,” he murmured, pressing a firm kiss to your cheek.
Steve felt that bittersweet feeling wash over him again as he pulled his shirt over his head. “You’re a lucky guy, Buck,” he mumbled, “She’s… she’s special.”
Bucky lifted his gaze and looked up at him, his expression stoic. “Sure is,” he agreed, his metal hand coming up to cradle the back of your head as you buried your face in his neck. The way he looked at you spoke all the words he didn’t need to say.
You’re his everything. His rare gem in this unforgiving world. The one person he’d let get away with anything.
Steve swallowed a little harshly as he stepped away. “Well, I should go. Got an early morning tomorrow,”
Bucky’s face dropped as he rolled onto his back. “Right, the debriefing,”
Steve nodded and turned around, heading towards the door as an ugly feeling weighed heavily in his chest. “I’ll see you then,” he said, keeping his back to the both of you.
Bucky hummed, nodding at his back as you waved lazily, even though Steve couldn’t see you. He’d done this routine before, he knew how this whole thing plays out once it’s over.
And now you and Bucky were back to being blissfully all over each other, and Steve was back to pretending you weren’t invading all his thoughts, and pretending like he wasn’t falling for you.
pairing: avenger!captain america!steve rogers x tall!shield agent!female reader
summary: steve rogers accidentally got drunk at the avengers tower christmas party, and you're the one tasked with helping him get to bed. it's a good thing you have plenty of practice keeping your crush on him a secret.
warnings: sexual tension, steve is drunk, reader is conflicted (nothing happens while steve's drunk), feelings are expressed, kissing, sleepy cuddling, i think that's pretty much it!
word count: 2.9k
a/n: here's my december 13 fic for @the-slumberparty's december daze challenge, using the prompt: "I didn't know the egg nog was spiked!" tried to keep this one short and sweet so that i can catch up, so if something doesn't make sense, just ignore it i guess! also this is my first time writing a specifically tall!reader and that was nice since i'm on the taller side 😅 hope y'all enjoy!! ♡
december daze challenge masterlist
“I didn't know the egg nog was spiked!”
Steve Rogers’ voice was louder than it needed to be, and so close to your ear that you winced a little. You kept walking, a massive arm looped around your shoulders while you half-carried the ungodly large body of Captain America and tried not to think about how good he smelled.
Why exactly you had been tasked with helping the very drunk Steve Rogers to his quarters after the Avengers Tower Christmas party was still a bit of a mystery to you. You’d seen Natasha Romanoff and Tony Stark with their heads bent close, like they were conspiring about something, and the next thing you knew, Bruce Banner was asking you to help Steve get to bed.
The phrasing of the request had sent your heart skittering in your chest, even under the less-than-ideal circumstances of its reality. You’d had a crush on Steve Rogers since you’d met him as part of your SHIELD assignment to Avengers Tower, and you liked to think you’d kept it secret from everyone.
But, well, you did work with spies for a living, and you had a feeling Natasha and Tony’s conspiring had something to do with your predicament.
You’d tried to protest Bruce’s request. Sure, you were one of the taller female SHIELD agents, but you were by no means the strongest person on your team, especially when it included Brock Rumlow. But apparently everyone else had gone home or they were helping someone else, and you were the only one who could do it.
Frank Sinatra’s “Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas” had been playing from the sound system of the Avengers Tower lounge as you’d made your way over to where Steve lay sprawled across the entire length of a sofa. He was singing along to the Christmas song—loudly and off-key—and nerves and excitement had fluttered through your belly like snowflakes on a winter wind.
You’d shoved your emotions away and put on the professional mask you always wore around Steve, pasting a polite smile on your face as you leaned over him and told him, in a not unkind voice, that you were going to help him get to bed.
He’d given you a dreamy smile and did his best to help you lift his large body from the sofa while you’d ignored the way the snowflakes in your tummy had swooped at his happy expression and close proximity.
With one arm wrapped around Steve’s waist and the other holding onto his wrist so his arm wouldn’t fall from your shoulders, you lifted a leg and kicked the elevator call button with your foot, only remembering to check to make sure no one was around after you’d done so.
Oh well. If you’d flashed someone with the move, the most they’d see under the short skirt of your cocktail dress was the gun strapped to your thigh and the shapewear the tight, clingy garment had required you to wear. Thankfully, no one was around except the super-soldier draped across your shoulders, his head propped sleepily against yours.
“Of course it was spiked, captain,” you said, picking up the thread of the conversation he’d started. Your voice was patient and professional, if a little cold. “It was Stark’s Christmas party—he spiked all the egg nog with Asgardian liquor.”
The doors of the elevator slid open soundlessly and you huffed a sigh of relief as you dragged Steve in. You made sure he was propped up against the corner of the elevator, then stepped away to hit the button for his floor. As discreetly as you could, you wiped some sweat from your brow before turning back to Captain America.
The expression on Steve’s face drew you up short. He was…not frowning exactly. Was that a…pout?
You tilted your head to the side, your eyes poring carefully over Steve Rogers’ familiar features—the little pinched line between his brows, the dimmed sparkle of his blue eyes, the protrusion of his lush lower lip. You forced yourself not to linger on his mouth, even though it looked particularly inviting…
Yes, that was definitely a pout, you decided.
Before you could wonder about what you’d said to garner such a reaction from Steve, he was talking. Or, rather, muttering.
“I don’t like it when you call me captain,” he grumbled.
The elevator was nearing Steve’s floor so you moved closer to him again, ignoring the way your body warmed when you pressed into his side and lifted his arm over your shoulder. The fresh scent of him wrapped around you like the most delicious blanket, and you wanted more than anything to be able to breathe it in until it lived permanently in your lungs.
“What should I call you then?” you asked, mostly to distract yourself from your body’s reaction to Steve. He was drunk, and you needed to get yourself under control.
You tried to pull him out of the corner, but you didn’t have enough leverage and instead of budging the big super-soldier, you bounced back into him, landing against his hard chest with a surprised little “oomph.”
Before that moment, you’d known, in theory, that you were only a couple inches shorter than Steve Rogers. But it was easy to forget because he had such a large presence, and he could very easily toss you around that mats of the Avengers Tower gym with his super-strength.
However, in that moment you learned that the minimal height difference between you and Steve Rogers had a consequence you hadn’t considered. When you fell against his chest, your face was almost perfectly level with his—specifically, your mouth was almost perfectly level with his.
You could taste the Asgardian rum on Steve’s breath and the thought of closing the distance and licking it from his lips was far more tempting than it should’ve been.
“Steve,” he rumbled, his arm tightening around your shoulders and hauling you even closer. “You should call me Steve.”
Your soft curves molded to the hard planes of his body and your breath caught in your throat as your mind raced, trying to figure out what he was doing. His blue eyes were dark, even under the bright lights of the elevator, and they were fixed very firmly on your lips—but they were still glazed from all he’d had to drink.
“Steve,” you said, his name soft and tortured as it fell from your lips, your eyes dropping to his mouth.
You knew you couldn’t kiss Captain America while he was drunk, and you knew that if he tried to pull you any closer, you’d have to push him away. But you wanted so desperately to close the distance between your lips, the desire felt like it might incinerate you from the inside out.
The ding of the elevator arriving at Steve’s floor brought you back to reality and you jumped away from the super-soldier, shaking your head at yourself as you grabbed his arm and heaved his weight onto your shoulders. You dragged him out of the elevator on stumbling feet, your mind spinning with what you’d almost done—what Steve actually had done.
For all the time you’d crushed on Steve Rogers, he’d never shown any indication of reciprocating your feelings. He’d always been just as professional and aloof as you’d been, and you’d taken that to mean he didn’t have any interest in you outside of work. But you were beginning to rethink your assessment…
Thankfully, Steve remained quiet and well-behaved for the trip down the hall to his quarters, and getting him inside seemed a bit easier after your practice with the elevator. You half-carried him to his bed and it took only a little push to have him sit down on the soft mattress.
Somehow, the movement left you standing between Steve’s spread legs, his arm curled around your waist from where it had fallen off your shoulder. His face was close again—closer than it should’ve been as he looked up at you from where he sat.
“Pretty…” he murmured, the fingertips of his free hand reaching for you but hovering just a hair’s breadth away from touching you. “You’re so…pretty.”
Heat suffused your cheeks and you ducked your head. “Steve,” you whined softly, your fingers wrapping around his wrists, trying to extricate yourself from his hold. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”
“You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen,” he said softly, your name falling sweetly from his lips. He brushed his thumb over your cheek so gently, it made your knees wobble.
You’d managed to get some distance from him, but the sound of your name made you stop. You looked at Steve, and his eyes were still slightly glazed from all the spiked egg nog he’d drank.
You huffed a laugh that was sad and humorless. Of course the only time Steve had shown any interest in you, he was drunk.
“Tell me that again when you’re not drunk and maybe I’ll believe you, Steve,” you said, a little forlornly, and pulled his hand away from your face, dropping it in his lap.
Stepping backward, you broke out of his hold, ignoring the way he was pouting again.
“Stay with me,” Steve said, his fingers catching the tips of yours as you turned away.
The desperation in his tone halted your retreat. When you looked at Steve again, his eyes were a little clearer, and his expression was pleading. You didn’t know if it was the best idea to crawl into bed with Captain America while he was drunk.
You were pretty sure he’d fall asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow, so nothing would happen, but you worried about your heart. If you spent a whole night sleeping in Steve’s bed, breathing in Steve’s scent, it would be that much harder to pretend you didn’t have feelings for him. And you couldn’t seem to imagine he had feelings for you, despite what he’d said.
“Please,” Steve said, his voice cracking slightly. His face was washed in the dim light of the New York City skyline filtering in through the windows, and he looked like a work of art come to life, flawlessly gorgeous features and perfectly expressive eyes.
Your heart thumped in your chest, and were helpless to resist his request.
“OK,” you whispered, twining your fingers with his and giving his hand a small squeeze while you smiled shyly.
Steve beamed happily at you and then flopped back on the bed. A grin was still fixed on his face while he kicked off his shoes and fought to pull down the blankets so he could slide under them.
You bit back a laugh at his gleeful reaction, shaking your head as you went to the bathroom to clean off your makeup and strip out of your gun holster and shapewear. Thankfully, your dress was comfortable enough to sleep in for one night.
When you returned, you found Steve passed out under the covers still wearing all of his clothes. You took a moment to appreciate his handsome features, softened in sleep, and then slipped into bed beside him, leaving plenty of space between your bodies.
It took you a little while to fall asleep, but the quiet, steady snores coming from Steve helped lull you, and eventually you drifted off.
The soft wintry light of the morning sunrise was just beginning to peak over the Manhattan skyline when you roused, your body bathed in a nearly overwhelming heat that came from something pressed against your back and banded around your waist.
It took you a long, groggy moment to realize the source of that heat was Steve Rogers.
At some point in the night, he must’ve moved closer and wrapped himself around you because one of his arms was curled around your waist while his broad chest was pressed flush against your back. You were so close together, you could feel his steady heartbeat against your spine.
You must’ve shifted even to wake him because you heard the tenor of Steve’s breathing change. He buried his face in the back of your head and took a deep breath before letting out a contented sigh.
“Pretty girl,” he mumbled, the words muffled and barely discernable. His arm squeezed tighter around your waist, dragging you even further into the wondrously warm cage of his body.
The sound of you sucking in a sharp breath was loud in the silent bedroom and Steve suddenly tensed. Quick as a flash, he removed his arm from around your waist and shuffled back a few inches, giving you space.
Cold flooded in, even while you were still buried under the blankets, and you had to fight off a shiver. You missed his warmth, but you also needed to understand what was going on. You took a deep, steadying breath and then rolled over, looking at Steve warily.
He was propped up on one arm, his blond hair mussed from sleep and his cheeks tinged pink from embarrassment. But his blue eyes were clear and curious, watching your reaction with interest.
“What did you call me?” you asked in a trembling, hesitant voice. It probably wasn’t the first question you should’ve asked, but you had to know if you’d heard him correctly, and if he’d known he was talking about you when he’d said it.
Steve must’ve recognized the uncertainty in your voice or on your face because his expression softened and he lifted his hand, his fingers tracing the air next to your cheek. He was deliberately not touching you, and you had the urge to close the distance and feel his warm contact.
“You said to tell you you’re pretty when I wasn’t drunk anymore,” he said, his voice low and rough with sleep. His eyes had been wandering over your features, like he was trying to memorize the way they looked in the wintry morning light, but his gaze caught yours before he went on. “Well, I’m not drunk and you’re still the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”
“Steve.” His name was a soft, desperate sound, your heart racing into a gallop as you tried to process the fact that Steve Rogers thought you were pretty.
Before your mind had caught up, your hands were moving, reaching for Steve, eager to drag him closer. Your fingers were curling around the lapels of his dress shirt and you caught a glimpse of his crooked smile before you were both closing the distance between your bodies, his mouth slanting to yours for a kiss.
Heat and pleasure filled your body and soul, and you kissed Steve Rogers for the first time, your lips pressed together ungracefully in your excitement. After a few moments of blissful fumbling, you settled into a rhythm that was as delicious as it was delightful, made all the more breathtaking by the way you could feel Steve’s reverence for you in the way he held you.
It was a long time before you came up for air, and when you did, you laughed giddily when you saw the way Steve’s eyes were glazed over, a dreamy smile curling his lips, and you knew your expression matched his. He was drunk on kissing you, just as you were drunk on kissing him.
Steve dropped one last sweet kiss to your mouth and then he rolled you onto your side, tucking you into the warmth of his body while you both faced the windows, watching the sun rise over Manhattan. You were for a moment quiet as you enjoyed being with him, but something still bugged you.
“I still don’t understand why Bruce asked me to help you to bed,” you said, your fingers playing with Steve’s hand that was clasped in yours. “But I’m glad he did, since it led us to this.” You pressed a kiss to his palm, marveling at how even that part of him smelled fresh and wonderful.
At your comment, Steve made a rough sound in his throat, something halfway between a cough and a laugh. It piqued your curiosity and you turned your head, catching his eye over your shoulder.
“That might be my fault,” he admitted, a faint blush spreading across his cheeks. “I may have confessed to Nat that I think you’re pretty—and she’s been trying to set me up for ages.”
Suddenly, everything from the night before clicked into place. Natasha and Tony’s conspiring, the way your SHIELD teammates were all otherwise occupied, the fact that Bruce—the least devious, and therefore, least suspicious of all the Avengers—had been the one to ask you to help Steve.
It was all a very elaborate setup, and you had to feel a little impressed with Natasha, even as you rolled your eyes because it didn’t need to be so complicated. She could’ve just asked if you were interested, and then set you two up on a normal date. Instead, she’d concocted an elaborate scheme, just to get you and Steve alone.
But you had to admit, it did work…
“You Avengers can never do anything the easy way, can you?” you teased, grinning at Steve over your shoulder. You reached back, fingers twining in his hair and pulling him close enough to brush a kiss to his lips.
“Now, where would be the fun in that?” Steve murmured playfully against your mouth, kissing you more deeply before settling back down on the bed.
For the next little while, you watched the December sunrise with Steve Rogers, basking in the feeling of being in his arms while he idly hummed “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” in between brushing delicious kisses to your neck.
You did have yourself a very merry Christmas indeed.
Almost no plot, just sad feelings and a comforting Steve blurb. Trigger warnings are tagged :)
"Are you okay?" Steve whispered from the doorway, but he could tell you heard him. The near silent shake of your shoulders was answer enough, but the sobs really clued him in. "What's wrong?"
Your absence at dinner was enough to tip him off. You were never one to miss a team meal. In fact, you were usually the life of the party.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” you whispered, voice breaking.
"What do you mean?" Steve's sincere confusion only made you break down harder.
“I try so hard to be happy. I’ve tried everything. Tinkering with shit in the lab with Tony. I’ve tried Happy’s crosswords. Peter’s obsession with Star Wars. I cooked with Wanda, and tried learning everything there is to know about knives from Nat. I’ve tried reading when I'm bored, even tried The Hobbit like Bucky suggested."
"You just have to find your thing," Steve tried to help, but he felt out of his depth. He'd never seen you like this before.
“I taught myself how to crochet. That worked for awhile, but I haven’t touched my latest project in months. I made a photo collage for my wall. That was good for about two hours until I finished it. I tried watercolors, made two paintings and quit. Puzzles. Games. Embroidery. Writing. Fucking woodburning. You name it, I can guarantee I’ve tried."
Your words were garbelled, but Steve could still make them out. He inched closer slowly, trying not to make it worse.
“Nothing works okay? Nothing works because no matter what I still feel empty. I still feel like I’m missing something… and it’s killing me that I can’t be who I was before. Because I don't even know what it was that made me like this! I don't know what before is anymore because I should be fine! I should be okay! Nothing that bad has happened to me, so why do I feel so empty?"
"Hey, no. Just because there was no one event doesn't mean you can't feel the way you feel. Sometimes, no most times, it's not rational."
"But there should be a reason! I... I need a reason..."
You turned to look at him, the redness of your eyes breaking his heart. Still, you tried to smile at him.
"You don't have to put on a brave face with me." The words seemed to resonate, your mask dropping in lieu of more tears. He finally reached the bed and sat down next to you. This close, he could see the apprehension in your eyes. "Did something happen?"
"A few weeks ago..." you trailed off, still unsure.
Steve thought through everything he could remember about the last few weeks. Only one thing stood out from normal.
"When you visited your sisters?" he asked gently. You nodded, a fresh sob escaping. "Are they okay?"
"They're fine," you whispered. "Well, as fine as usual anyway. I told them..."
"Told them what?" Steve encouraged gently.
"About cutting myself," you said so quietly he wouldn't have heard if not for his enhanced senses.
Steve held back his surprise at the admission knowing it wouldn't help. Still he had to say something.
"That's a good first step. I," he cleared his throat. "I'm glad you feel comfortable enough to tell me."
You smiled slightly, expression falling into more tears when you kept talking.
"They haven't brought it up. Not once." Steve held you as you sobbed. "I know it's... awkward? I guess? And I know they love me, but... but sometimes it feels like it's only when it's helpful for them... Like maybe they don't actually care if I can't be what they need..."
You broke down again, voice cracking as you admitted your fears.
"I'll be here," Steve said quietly, but with resolve. "I'll help you through it."
"How?" you asked brokenly. It wasn't a demand, but a desire for reassurance.
"I don't know..." Steve felt his inadequacies like a physical weight. "But we'll figure it out. You're not alone in this. I'm here. I'll always be here."
Just a hurt/comfort (of the mental variety) Steve drabble :)
You heard the footsteps coming down the hall before the knock sounded on the door. You knew it was Steve before he spoke, the sound of his sigh filling you with equal parts love and sorrow.
“Y/N? You missed dinner.” You could hear the silent, annoyed ‘again’ without him needing to say it. Or maybe your brain added what you thought you deserved to hear.
You couldn’t bring yourself to answer. He wouldn’t miss the wobble in your voice, and then he would know for sure it was still happening. Better for him to think you’re already asleep.
“I know you’re awake,” he whispered as he opened the door. There goes that plan. Still, you didn’t turn away from the wall. He laid down next to you, content to just hold you in his effort to help guide you through the unrelenting fog your brain has put you in.
Apart of you embraced his presence, but a more dominant thought refused to let you enjoy it. The longer you laid in his arms, the more tumultuous your thoughts became. And thoughts always seemed to be the enemy during these episodes.
“I wish I could understand. Maybe then I could help more.”
Those words were the first thing Steve did that surprised you. He’d always been willing to help, but you didn’t know he wanted to understand. Nobody before him had ever cared enough, and maybe that was the problem.
Your own voice surprised you as you voiced one of the memories tumbling around in your kind.
“This is a cry for help.”
A tear slid across the bridge of your nose just as you felt Steve tense beside you. It seemed he was just as surprised to hear you speak as you were. “That is what I said the last time I tried to make someone understand. In a car full of people I considered family.”
The memory had never been clearer for you. Driving down the highway, screaming along to all the angsty songs from your college years. The music choice alone seemed like a red flag. The lull between songs should’ve been quiet enough for all of them to hear you, and yet…
“And maybe nobody heard me,” you justified to yourself more so than Steve. “Maybe it wasn’t as loud as I thought. Maybe they were distracted by something else…
“But maybe that was part of the problem,” Steve supplied when you trailed off. He could’ve kept going. Knowing Steve meant knowing he always had a motivational speech in his back pocket for any occasion. But Steve knowing you meant he knew that sentence was more than enough to make you feel seen.
He held you while you broke down, content to always be there to help you build yourself back up.
one day I’ll finally write that ridiculously elaborate fanfiction that I’ve been carefully constructing in my daydreams for months and then you’ll be sorry. you’ll all be sorry.
Summary: Steve breaks up with singer!reader because he doesn't want to hold her back. He starts to question everything after hearing the song she wrote for him.
Warnings: life in the Instagram era
word count: 4695
a/n: 100000% inspired by Timeless by Taylor Swift. i did not proofread this bc I am lazy so I do apologize for whatever typos there are
Masterlist
"I just don't get it," Steve overheard the young women talking while waiting in line for coffee. "She could literally be with anyone and she's gonna pick some old guy who literally fought in World War II?" He already had an idea of where this was going, but the response confirmed his fears.
"I know! Like Steve Rogers is hot but that's so weird! He's like 100 years old," she scoffed.
"A man out of time and probably out of touch," the first replied. "I bet he's totally holding her back."
Steve decided to forgo his coffee, simply turning around and leaving before things could get more awkward for him. Dating you has actually been when he's felt most at home in this century, but that doesn't mean he no longer struggles with his new present day.
Hardly a day goes by without you or someone else having to explain something to him, whether it be an insignificant reference to some tv show or more important information on how certain technology works. Suffice it to say, he feels like his age does show. It's something you've talked about in your relationship, but clearly, something Steve still struggles with.
He decided to walk back to the tower using the time to really think about what was best for you in terms of being with him. The first day the two of you met had been a particularly bad one for Steve, but somehow you managed to cheer him up. You've basically been inseparable since.
The more he thought about it, the more sure he was that those women were right. He was holding you back. You spend so much time with him, and at the tower in general, that you haven't really been living the same way you were before.
Before you met Steve, you had just finished your first world tour. You were always traveling or in and out of the studio. Now, you spend all your time in New York and you haven't had so much as a single performance outside of New York in the two and a half years you've been with him.
As he walked the last few steps up to the tower, Steve had already made his decision.
-
You were practically bouncing up and down on the couch as you waited for Steve to get home. After months of writing and recording in the home studio Tony set up for you, you could finally surprise Steve with some new songs. The one you were most excited about hadn't even been recorded yet. You were just too excited to share the lyrics to wait.
You couldn't help but reminisce as you waited, thinking about the first time you'd ever met. After your tour, all you wanted to do was go home and sleep, but Tony had personally invited you to his latest gala and your manager really pushed for you to go. Turns out, it was the best decision of your life.
The sound of the door opening down the hall broke you out of your daydream. The telltale sounds of Steve hanging up his jacket and tossing his keys in the dish by the door confirmed your suspicions.
You nearly tripped over the coffee table in your effort to greet him, but the look on his face stopped you dead in your tracks. "Steve?" you asked. "Are you okay?"
He sighed in response, one hand running through his hair as he looked at the ground. After a few seconds, he managed to meet your eye, but it did nothing to ease the nerves you were now feeling.
"Did something happen?" you asked just as he spoke up.
"We should break up."
His words felt like a physical blow in the silence that followed. You leaned back into the arm of the couch, suddenly unsure of everything.
"What?" you barely breathed out the question. The emotional whiplash was too confusing to process this quickly.
"I just, I don't think we should stay together. I wish I had more to say, but that's it." Steve cut straight to the bone, his own heart breaking. Still, he thought it was for the best.
"Oh," you barely managed to reply, still reeling from the shock. "Um, okay. I'll just... I'll just go."
You walked blindly down the hall and out the door, not even considering what you would do with all of your things that were in the apartment. You didn't even grab your purse, so you couldn't realistically leave the tower. Instead, you headed straight for the studio.
It felt like if you were recording a song about Steve, you could pretend that conversation didn't just happen. You could live in the past for just another few hours before reality finally hit you.
You still had the music pulled up in the recording booth. You'd gone so far as to take out some of the most inspiring pictures that lead to this song. There were plenty of pictures of you and Steve, but also the old black and white photos you found in the antique shop.
Thankfully Tony set things up so you could record on your own if you wanted, so that's exactly what you did.
Down the block there's an antique shop and something in my head said stop, so I walked in...
-
Instead of facing your emotions head-on, you dove into your work. You recorded every song you had left for the album, only contacting your manager and the label when things were finished.
They had a few things to tweak, but the record was ready not even two weeks later. Since you'd already been teasing the songs on tik tok, your label agreed to a surprise release. Thirteen songs would be released at the end of the week.
With the album ready and the date picked, you switched focus to scheduling performances at award shows and TV interviews. Anything to keep you from the gutwrenching reality of your emotions.
-
Steve wasn't doing much better. His mood was foul and everybody could tell. Seeing as you were avoiding everyone by staying in an apartment owned by your label, the team tried cornering Steve for information.
"What the hell happened with Y/N?" Nat finally asked when Steve brushed off the slightly less invasive questions about how he was doing. He simply shook his head, glaring at an unphased Natasha.
"Have you listened to her new album?" Sam asked, trying to break the tension before all hell broke loose.
Steve tensed at the mention of your music. He had not listened to it, but the mere existence sent him into a spiral. In his eyes, it proved his point. Two and a half weeks without him and you were already releasing music. Something you hadn't done in the two and a half years you'd been together.
"Just leave me alone," he all but begged. Listening to the songs he knew- or at least strongly expected- would be about him was too much to even consider. He shook off the questions with the sheer desperation in his eyes. Everyone could tell it was hitting him hard, but not knowing why they broke up made it difficult to try and help.
-
Things continued much the same for the next month. Steve avoided all things that reminded him of you. You worked every second you could, desperate to not have to think about how everything went wrong.
In those few moments when you had actually thought about Steve, you more than anything wanted to know why. It had gotten so far as to you hovering your finger over his contact, one split second from calling when your manager phoned you instead.
"Hello," you answered, desperately trying to hide the strain from your voice.
"They want you to perform at the Grammy's," your manager, Gina, wasted no time with pleasantries.
"Oh my god," you didn't know how to feel. "That's in three days!" This album meant so much to you, but it was entirely about falling and being in love with Steve. How could you perform one of your best love songs on one of the biggest stages in music with a broken heart?
"Do they want a specific song?" Somehow your mind kept working even though your heart was breaking all over again.
"You get to choose," Gina continued to gush, but you couldn't listen. Having to choose was almost worse. You managed to tune back in for the last bit of information. "I know it's weird because you're not nominated, but nobody expected Rihanna to have to pull out. The news is her baby is the picture of health though! Since this is so last minute, they need to know what song the day after tomorrow for scheduling purposes."
"I'll do Timeless," you blurted out. Having to make the decision would be the worst part, right? So now you can just prepare and deal with it.
"You sure?" she asked, wary of it being one of the most detailed love songs on the album.
"Yep!" The enthusiasm was easy to fake. You were excited to perform at the Grammy's, and this is the song you're most proud of. It'll be fine.
"I'll let them know! Check your email for the itinerary. Bye!" she hung up in a flash, leaving you alone with your thoughts again.
Steve's contact was still pulled up on your phone. It felt like it was mocking you. Of course, Timeless would be the song you blurt out in a panic. It was the one you were most excited for him to hear. You can't imagine he's listened to the album. He might not even know it was released. A Grammy's performance was the closest to a guarantee that he'd hear it.
Now you just had to practice singing as if it wasn't going to emotionally wreck you.
-
"We've been invited to the Grammy's," Tony burst into the room with no preamble.
"Who's we?" Sam asked, already planning the suit he would wear in his mind.
"Four of us, bird brain," Tony replied swiftly. "Normally I'd be all over this, but I promised Morgan I would build her big girl bed with her tomorrow, so I'm stuck. You all have to go."
Nat, Sam, and Bucky all seemed okay with the invitation, and in Sam's case mildly excited. Steve, on the other hand, scowled at Tony. He was only about 60% sure the Grammy's were for music, but if the 60% was right he would rather go on a mission in Antarctica than potentially be in the same building as Y/N right now.
"I don't wanna hear it, Capsicle." Tony read the look on his face. "Four of us have to be there, and as our fearless leader that means you. Friday will send the details." He walked out much the same way he walked in, with a dramatic flair that left no room for questions.
"I guess we're going to the Grammy's," Nat cut a look across the room to Steve, gauging his reaction.
"So we are," he mumbled, quickly leaving the room before anyone could ask him about you.
-
Getting ready in your apartment was the only thing holding you together. Gina came over early this morning to lay out the details of your dress, hair, makeup, and any last-minute accessory decisions.
"You ready for this?" she asked, buzzing with excitement. The car would be here to pick you up any minute.
"As I'll ever be," you shakily replied. Despite making the decision quickly, you'd yet to settle the reality of performing the song in front of a crowd with how it felt to record it alone in a booth.
"Well, you can shake off those last few nerves right now. You're gonna be amazing. Remember, you're toward the end of the show. I guess you'll be a break from the nominated artists just before they announce album of the year, okay?"
You merely nodded in response, still trying to get over the nerves. You followed her down to the car, going over the lyrics in your head. Repetition was your best bet to stave off any emotional outbursts during the actual performance.
-
Steve had barely said a word all day, choosing instead to just float through the day. He wore the suit presented to him with no questions asked. He followed the schedule Friday had given him to a tee. He left no room for conversation, the glare on his face deterring any small talk.
He looked up the list of performers in an attempt to see if Y/N would be there, but she wasn't listed. The only thing causing him worry was the "surprise guest" that had been invited to replace Rihanna, who had to pull out of performing because she had a baby a few days ago. The amount of detail about other people's lives on the internet still surprised Steve sometimes, but he was glad to hear she was doing well- whoever she was.
He managed to hold it together through the red carpet, hearing whispers from the crowds that strung his and your name together. That was one of the things that drew the two of you together. It may have been a different kind of attention, but you both had faces the general public might recognize. Being the center of attention was never the goal for either of you, so your relationship remained largely private.
"Weird that he didn't walk the carpet with Y/N..." one guest whispered. Steve's enhanced hearing meant he could still pick up the voices. It was almost as if he was involuntarily listening for your name and honing in on the conversation.
"I mean, they've always been private... unless, do you think they broke up?" the responder gasped. Steve felt his heartbeat increase, being the subject of rumors and gossip never sat well with him.
"But this whole album is so happy! Maybe she-"
Steve was pulled inside before he could hear the rest. Probably for the best, he thought. Now that he knew you were here, he needed to focus on avoiding you.
Apparently, that wouldn't be hard. He and his fellow Avengers assigned seats were much further back than the musicians that were invited or nominated. He could see you from his seat, but you were far enough away to basically guarantee no forced interactions.
He merely sat in his seat, greeting people as they stopped by to say hello, and waited for the show to start. The quicker this thing was over, the quicker he would be able to go back to avoiding his feelings.
-
Walking the carpet was an absolute dream. You only wish you could've been more present. You were still incredibly nervous for your performance, and the murmurs you heard about the Avengers being in attendance did nothing to help.
You just had to choose to believe that Steve wouldn't come tonight. Unless he was so unaffected by the breakup that he could be here without it being a problem, which was a scenario you needed to put out of your head. No thoughts of break ups or Steve. At least, not until the performance.
Finding your table was easy enough once you got inside, and refusing to look around may have seemed odd, but people could easily chalk it up to nerves. Not many new about your surprise performance, but everyone knew it was your first Grammy's ceremony You were on tour when you were nominated for Best New Artist, ultimately winning the award, but missing out on the ceremony.
Other artists stopped by and chatted for a few minutes until eventually the lights dimmed and the show began.
-
Before long, a stage manager was ushering you out of your chair on a commercial break and bringing you backstage to get ready. You hadn't had much choice when it came to your carpet look- a gorgeous pink dress with plenty of tulle- but your performance look was more customizable.
You chose a dark blue set with plenty of crystals sewn onto the fabric. It looked like the night sky, and if blue is Steve's favorite color so what. This was the exact vibe you'd dreamed up when you were writing the song, so it only felt right to perform in it.
Your hair and makeup needed minimal changes, so after a few touch ups, you were being ushered toward the stage. It seemed everything backstage was happening fast enough to leave no time for nerves.
"And now, our long awaited surprise performer! She has taken the world by storm with her surprise release, I wouldn't be surprised if we saw her nominated for next year's awards. Please welcome F/N L/N performing Timeless!"
You were already seated at the piano when the curtains were drawn back. Although the song wasn't a piano ballad on the album, it felt right for this performance. You wasted no time getting started once the cheers died down.
Down the block there's an antique shop and something in my head said stop, so I walked in. On the counter was a cardboard box and the sign said "Photo's 25 cents each."
They were some very literal opening lines, and unsurprisingly the memories were flooding through you. You were out walking around the city, trying to clear your head, when you stumbled upon an antique store. The photos on the counter were the very first inspiration for lyrics to the vague idea of a song.
Black and white, saw a 30s bride and two lovers laughing on the porch of their first house. The kind of love you only find once in a lifetime. The kind you don't put down. And that's when I called you, and it's so hard to explain, but in those photos, I saw us instead.
It was so easy to envision Steve in the 30s, you couldn't help but put yourself in these photos with him. Your lives would be so different if you'd met back then, but there wasn't a doubt in your mind that you would love him just the same.
And, somehow, I know that you and I would've found each other. In another life, you still would've turned my head.
This was something you'd told Steve over and over. Every time he felt unsure of being in this time, you said "I would love you in any life, Steve. Any life. I'm just glad you found me in this one." You really had to gear up for the first chorus. It had one of the most telling, and therefore nerve wracking, lines.
-
Even if we'd met on a crowded street in 1944, and you were headed off to fight in the war. You still would've been mine. We would've been timeless.
Steve was slack jawed as he listened to your song for the first time. The way you were able to take the little memories and build such a beautiful melody out of them astounded him. His emotions were suddenly overwhelming, and there was now way for him to runaway from them this time.
I would've read your love letters every single night, and prayed to god you'd be coming home alright. And you would've been fine. We would've been timeless.
It wasn't that far off from this reality. Anytime Steve was on a mission, he'd write you letters to read while he was away. After the first time, you started writing letters for him to take with him as well. Even if the two of you couldn't talk on the phone, you had something from the other to tide you over.
'Cause I believe that we were supposed to find this. So even in a different life, you still would've been mine. We would've been timeless.
There was that line about a different life again. Steve already felt like he was living a different life, and somehow you knew exactly how to express what he was feeling while simultaneously reassuring him of your own love.
I had to smile when it caught my eye, there was one of a teenage couple in the driveway. Holdin' hands on the way to a dance and the date on the back said 1958. Which brought me back to the first time I saw you. Time stood still like something in this old shop.
Steve could still easily picture the very first second he saw your face. He wanted to be anywhere but Tony's party, having just come back from a mission that was only moderately successful. They had saved the hostages, but the Hydra agents managed to escape. He wanted nothing more than to track them down and being at the party would only delay everything.
When Tony brought you around for introductions, he found the mission had slipped entirely from his head. You somehow managed to lighten the mood without knowing why he was so grumpy, earning an uncharacteristic laugh from Steve still in Captain mode.
It was no surprise to anyone at the party when the two of you spent the rest of the evening together. Sitting at the bar, or the rare slow dance meant you could continue the never ending conversation.
Steve found himself so lost in thought, he missed most of the second verse and chorus. It wasn't until Bucky nudged him that he refocused on your words.
-
We're gonna be... I'm gonna love you when our hair is turnin' gray. We'll have a cardboard box of photos of the life we've made. And you'll say, "Oh my, we really were timeless."
You could feel the tears building through the second chorus and the bridge, but the third chorus really broke you down. You didn't understand why Steve decided it was best to break up and never getting that closure was taking its toll. You couldn't stop the few tears from falling, the notes that followed uncharacteristically wobbly.
-
We're gonna be timeless, timeless. You still would've been mine. We would've been... Even if we'd met on a crowded street in 1944. You still would've been mine. We would've been...
Steve could hear the tears in your voice easier than he could see them. His moment of weakness was haunting him as his own tears started to fall. He brushed them away quickly, forcing himself to hold it together until you were done.
Down the block there's an antique shop and something in my head said stop, so I walked in.
It was clear to him now more than ever that he was so wrong. He let his insecurities get the better of him, and messed up the single greatest thing that had come from being in this century.
With the show nearly over, he didn't think anyone would notice his absence. Instead of returning to his seat at the end of the commercial break, he slipped out a side exit. He wanted nothing more than to talk to you, but had no way of finding you.
"Steve!" He turned at the sound of a familiar voice calling his name. To his surprise, your manager was standing just a few feet away. "She left right after the song, said she's too tired for the afterparty."
Steve nodded, unsure why she was telling him.
"Here's her current address. Code to the elevator is 0704," she winked, passing him a slip of paper. Understanding dawned on him, and he wanted to scream.
"Thank you, Gina. Really," he managed to control the maelstrom of emotion, subtly slipping outside as quickly as he could. He was meant to ride home in the hired car with the rest of the Avengers, but your address wasn't too far from the Garden. He opted to walk, slowly transitioning into a run as his desperation grew. The flash of cameras followed him down the street, but with his speed he outpaced them quickly enough. He had one thing on his mind and one thing only, fixing things with you.
-
The pounding on your door scared you more than you'd care to admit. Nobody should be able to reach this floor without the code, but still. The knocking had an air of desperation that you wouldn't expect from anyone visiting right now. Gina was the logical choice, but was skipping the afterparty that big of a deal?
You had planned to double check through the peephole, but before you reached the door, the very last voice you'd have expected sounded clear through the door.
"Y/N? Gina, she gave me the code. I just, I need to apologize. I... I fucked up." He stalled, in nearly as much disbelief as you at hearing the words fall out of his mouth.
You swung the door open, gesturing for him to come in. You didn't trust yourself to speak. Hell, you barely trusted yourself to look at him. Once you both settled on the couch, you finally risked a glance.
Steve looked more distraught than you'd ever seen him, but his lack of explanation still left you reeling. He seemed to be at a loss for words himself until you looked at him.
"We really are timeless, huh?" he tried easing into things, instantly regretting his choice of words when you nearly vaulted off the couch.
"Steve, what the hell? You break up with me with no explanation and show up quoting my own lyrics to me?" your words lacked the anger you wished you could express, too raw from the performance to cover the dimensions of hurt. The tears were quick to return to your eyes as Steve slowly approached you.
He grabbed your hands in his and when you showed no signs of pulling away, tried again. "I made the biggest mistake of my life that day. Not just in not explaining, but in deciding I knew what was best for you. In thinking I was doing the right thing by giving in to my fears.
"You are single-handedly the greatest person I've ever known. And I overheard these women saying you could have anyone and do anything... I managed to convince myself that you deserved more. To pretend like breaking up with you was noble and not because I was afraid you'd come to the same conclusion as them"
"Steve," you shook your head, a few tears falling. You were at a loss for words. For the last two months, you thought he just fell out of love with you. His reasoning, although flawed, was reassuring. Still, it didn't undo the hurt he caused.
"I should've known better. And I can't undo what I've already done, but I can promise to never doubt you again. To come to you with my insecurities and listen to your voice when mine isn't strong enough. And I hope I can be that person for you in life- to reassure you when you feel lost." He took a deep breath before continuing, "I love you and if you'll have me again, I want to be timeless with you."
You could feel yourself squeezing his hands tighter and tighter as he spoke, trying to funnel the overwhelming emotions into physical exertion instead of tears.
"I love you too," you whispered, voice breaking on a fresh wave of tears. You wrapped your arms around him, letting him lead you back to the couch. You still had a lot to discuss, but right now, you just wanted him to hold you.
-
Bonus:
A few hours later, after many discussions about ignoring gossip and coming to each other with your problems, Steve finally managed to work up the nerve to voice once more question.
"Is the rest of the album about loving me, or is there a breakup song on there? Because I can handle it, but I might need some warning."
You stared at him for a beat before the question really sunk in.
"You haven't listened to any of it?" you confirmed. When he nodded, you just smirked. "While, I guess you'll find out right now then."
You knew it was 13 songs expressing different kinds of love for him, but you would let him sweat it out for the next 57 minutes.
a/n: here are the songs I envision on the album lol:
Timeless, Call It What You Want, Sweet Nothing, Daylight, New Year's Day, invisible string, Dress, False God, Paper Rings, Cornelia Street, evermore, Today Was A Fairytale, Lover
Steve Rogers and T Swift? Sign me up. Count me in.
The way you start this fic off making me want to fight random strangers I don't know and will probably never see again. Sometimes violence is the answer but I'm glad that Steve is a nicer man than I would ever be 😤
As he walked the last few steps up to the tower, Steve had already made his decision. -> the way that I am metaphorically banging my fists against the glass, trying to stop him even though he cannot hear me. I'm weeping 😭
"I just, I don't think we should stay together. I wish I had more to say, but that's it." Steve cut straight to the bone, his own heart breaking. Still, he thought it was for the best. -> NOOOOOOOOO 😭😭😭
In his eyes, it proved his point. Two and a half weeks without him and you were already releasing music. Something you hadn't done in the two and a half years you'd been together. -> the way I simply just want to shake Steve by his shoulders. My man!!! You're missing the point!!!!! I'm yelling!!!!!!!
He left no room for conversation, the glare on his face deterring any small talk. -> I love Steve more than anything in the world but there is something about the thought of him being sad and grumpy that I also love despite wanting him to have good things lol
but he was glad to hear she was doing well- whoever she was. -> the way this made me chuckle. It just. It feels so very much like Steve. Adore.
This was something you'd told Steve over and over. Every time he felt unsure of being in this time, you said "I would love you in any life, Steve. Any life. I'm just glad you found me in this one." -> my HEART 🥺🥹🥺🥹
You could feel the tears building through the second chorus and the bridge, but the third chorus really broke you down. You didn't understand why Steve decided it was best to break up and never getting that closure was taking its toll. You couldn't stop the few tears from falling, the notes that followed uncharacteristically wobbly. -> the way my heart just fucking HURTS for her 😭😭😭😭
God the way I'm hugging Gina and kissing her on the forehead for giving Steve the hookup. My girl. She gets it.
Not just in not explaining, but in deciding I knew what was best for you. In thinking I was doing the right thing by giving in to my fears. -> we love to see a man who can own up to his mistakes. Nodding in approval even through the tears currently streaming down my face
You knew it was 13 songs expressing different kinds of love for him, but you would let him sweat it out for the next 57 minutes. -> YESSSS. God. I love her. I love them. Kicking my feet and grinning. We love to see a couple make up 🥹🥹🥹🥹
Summary: Steve breaks up with singer!reader because he doesn't want to hold her back. He starts to question everything after hearing the song she wrote for him.
Warnings: life in the Instagram era
word count: 4695
a/n: 100000% inspired by Timeless by Taylor Swift. i did not proofread this bc I am lazy so I do apologize for whatever typos there are
Masterlist
"I just don't get it," Steve overheard the young women talking while waiting in line for coffee. "She could literally be with anyone and she's gonna pick some old guy who literally fought in World War II?" He already had an idea of where this was going, but the response confirmed his fears.
"I know! Like Steve Rogers is hot but that's so weird! He's like 100 years old," she scoffed.
"A man out of time and probably out of touch," the first replied. "I bet he's totally holding her back."
Steve decided to forgo his coffee, simply turning around and leaving before things could get more awkward for him. Dating you has actually been when he's felt most at home in this century, but that doesn't mean he no longer struggles with his new present day.
Hardly a day goes by without you or someone else having to explain something to him, whether it be an insignificant reference to some tv show or more important information on how certain technology works. Suffice it to say, he feels like his age does show. It's something you've talked about in your relationship, but clearly, something Steve still struggles with.
He decided to walk back to the tower using the time to really think about what was best for you in terms of being with him. The first day the two of you met had been a particularly bad one for Steve, but somehow you managed to cheer him up. You've basically been inseparable since.
The more he thought about it, the more sure he was that those women were right. He was holding you back. You spend so much time with him, and at the tower in general, that you haven't really been living the same way you were before.
Before you met Steve, you had just finished your first world tour. You were always traveling or in and out of the studio. Now, you spend all your time in New York and you haven't had so much as a single performance outside of New York in the two and a half years you've been with him.
As he walked the last few steps up to the tower, Steve had already made his decision.
-
You were practically bouncing up and down on the couch as you waited for Steve to get home. After months of writing and recording in the home studio Tony set up for you, you could finally surprise Steve with some new songs. The one you were most excited about hadn't even been recorded yet. You were just too excited to share the lyrics to wait.
You couldn't help but reminisce as you waited, thinking about the first time you'd ever met. After your tour, all you wanted to do was go home and sleep, but Tony had personally invited you to his latest gala and your manager really pushed for you to go. Turns out, it was the best decision of your life.
The sound of the door opening down the hall broke you out of your daydream. The telltale sounds of Steve hanging up his jacket and tossing his keys in the dish by the door confirmed your suspicions.
You nearly tripped over the coffee table in your effort to greet him, but the look on his face stopped you dead in your tracks. "Steve?" you asked. "Are you okay?"
He sighed in response, one hand running through his hair as he looked at the ground. After a few seconds, he managed to meet your eye, but it did nothing to ease the nerves you were now feeling.
"Did something happen?" you asked just as he spoke up.
"We should break up."
His words felt like a physical blow in the silence that followed. You leaned back into the arm of the couch, suddenly unsure of everything.
"What?" you barely breathed out the question. The emotional whiplash was too confusing to process this quickly.
"I just, I don't think we should stay together. I wish I had more to say, but that's it." Steve cut straight to the bone, his own heart breaking. Still, he thought it was for the best.
"Oh," you barely managed to reply, still reeling from the shock. "Um, okay. I'll just... I'll just go."
You walked blindly down the hall and out the door, not even considering what you would do with all of your things that were in the apartment. You didn't even grab your purse, so you couldn't realistically leave the tower. Instead, you headed straight for the studio.
It felt like if you were recording a song about Steve, you could pretend that conversation didn't just happen. You could live in the past for just another few hours before reality finally hit you.
You still had the music pulled up in the recording booth. You'd gone so far as to take out some of the most inspiring pictures that lead to this song. There were plenty of pictures of you and Steve, but also the old black and white photos you found in the antique shop.
Thankfully Tony set things up so you could record on your own if you wanted, so that's exactly what you did.
Down the block there's an antique shop and something in my head said stop, so I walked in...
-
Instead of facing your emotions head-on, you dove into your work. You recorded every song you had left for the album, only contacting your manager and the label when things were finished.
They had a few things to tweak, but the record was ready not even two weeks later. Since you'd already been teasing the songs on tik tok, your label agreed to a surprise release. Thirteen songs would be released at the end of the week.
With the album ready and the date picked, you switched focus to scheduling performances at award shows and TV interviews. Anything to keep you from the gutwrenching reality of your emotions.
-
Steve wasn't doing much better. His mood was foul and everybody could tell. Seeing as you were avoiding everyone by staying in an apartment owned by your label, the team tried cornering Steve for information.
"What the hell happened with Y/N?" Nat finally asked when Steve brushed off the slightly less invasive questions about how he was doing. He simply shook his head, glaring at an unphased Natasha.
"Have you listened to her new album?" Sam asked, trying to break the tension before all hell broke loose.
Steve tensed at the mention of your music. He had not listened to it, but the mere existence sent him into a spiral. In his eyes, it proved his point. Two and a half weeks without him and you were already releasing music. Something you hadn't done in the two and a half years you'd been together.
"Just leave me alone," he all but begged. Listening to the songs he knew- or at least strongly expected- would be about him was too much to even consider. He shook off the questions with the sheer desperation in his eyes. Everyone could tell it was hitting him hard, but not knowing why they broke up made it difficult to try and help.
-
Things continued much the same for the next month. Steve avoided all things that reminded him of you. You worked every second you could, desperate to not have to think about how everything went wrong.
In those few moments when you had actually thought about Steve, you more than anything wanted to know why. It had gotten so far as to you hovering your finger over his contact, one split second from calling when your manager phoned you instead.
"Hello," you answered, desperately trying to hide the strain from your voice.
"They want you to perform at the Grammy's," your manager, Gina, wasted no time with pleasantries.
"Oh my god," you didn't know how to feel. "That's in three days!" This album meant so much to you, but it was entirely about falling and being in love with Steve. How could you perform one of your best love songs on one of the biggest stages in music with a broken heart?
"Do they want a specific song?" Somehow your mind kept working even though your heart was breaking all over again.
"You get to choose," Gina continued to gush, but you couldn't listen. Having to choose was almost worse. You managed to tune back in for the last bit of information. "I know it's weird because you're not nominated, but nobody expected Rihanna to have to pull out. The news is her baby is the picture of health though! Since this is so last minute, they need to know what song the day after tomorrow for scheduling purposes."
"I'll do Timeless," you blurted out. Having to make the decision would be the worst part, right? So now you can just prepare and deal with it.
"You sure?" she asked, wary of it being one of the most detailed love songs on the album.
"Yep!" The enthusiasm was easy to fake. You were excited to perform at the Grammy's, and this is the song you're most proud of. It'll be fine.
"I'll let them know! Check your email for the itinerary. Bye!" she hung up in a flash, leaving you alone with your thoughts again.
Steve's contact was still pulled up on your phone. It felt like it was mocking you. Of course, Timeless would be the song you blurt out in a panic. It was the one you were most excited for him to hear. You can't imagine he's listened to the album. He might not even know it was released. A Grammy's performance was the closest to a guarantee that he'd hear it.
Now you just had to practice singing as if it wasn't going to emotionally wreck you.
-
"We've been invited to the Grammy's," Tony burst into the room with no preamble.
"Who's we?" Sam asked, already planning the suit he would wear in his mind.
"Four of us, bird brain," Tony replied swiftly. "Normally I'd be all over this, but I promised Morgan I would build her big girl bed with her tomorrow, so I'm stuck. You all have to go."
Nat, Sam, and Bucky all seemed okay with the invitation, and in Sam's case mildly excited. Steve, on the other hand, scowled at Tony. He was only about 60% sure the Grammy's were for music, but if the 60% was right he would rather go on a mission in Antarctica than potentially be in the same building as Y/N right now.
"I don't wanna hear it, Capsicle." Tony read the look on his face. "Four of us have to be there, and as our fearless leader that means you. Friday will send the details." He walked out much the same way he walked in, with a dramatic flair that left no room for questions.
"I guess we're going to the Grammy's," Nat cut a look across the room to Steve, gauging his reaction.
"So we are," he mumbled, quickly leaving the room before anyone could ask him about you.
-
Getting ready in your apartment was the only thing holding you together. Gina came over early this morning to lay out the details of your dress, hair, makeup, and any last-minute accessory decisions.
"You ready for this?" she asked, buzzing with excitement. The car would be here to pick you up any minute.
"As I'll ever be," you shakily replied. Despite making the decision quickly, you'd yet to settle the reality of performing the song in front of a crowd with how it felt to record it alone in a booth.
"Well, you can shake off those last few nerves right now. You're gonna be amazing. Remember, you're toward the end of the show. I guess you'll be a break from the nominated artists just before they announce album of the year, okay?"
You merely nodded in response, still trying to get over the nerves. You followed her down to the car, going over the lyrics in your head. Repetition was your best bet to stave off any emotional outbursts during the actual performance.
-
Steve had barely said a word all day, choosing instead to just float through the day. He wore the suit presented to him with no questions asked. He followed the schedule Friday had given him to a tee. He left no room for conversation, the glare on his face deterring any small talk.
He looked up the list of performers in an attempt to see if Y/N would be there, but she wasn't listed. The only thing causing him worry was the "surprise guest" that had been invited to replace Rihanna, who had to pull out of performing because she had a baby a few days ago. The amount of detail about other people's lives on the internet still surprised Steve sometimes, but he was glad to hear she was doing well- whoever she was.
He managed to hold it together through the red carpet, hearing whispers from the crowds that strung his and your name together. That was one of the things that drew the two of you together. It may have been a different kind of attention, but you both had faces the general public might recognize. Being the center of attention was never the goal for either of you, so your relationship remained largely private.
"Weird that he didn't walk the carpet with Y/N..." one guest whispered. Steve's enhanced hearing meant he could still pick up the voices. It was almost as if he was involuntarily listening for your name and honing in on the conversation.
"I mean, they've always been private... unless, do you think they broke up?" the responder gasped. Steve felt his heartbeat increase, being the subject of rumors and gossip never sat well with him.
"But this whole album is so happy! Maybe she-"
Steve was pulled inside before he could hear the rest. Probably for the best, he thought. Now that he knew you were here, he needed to focus on avoiding you.
Apparently, that wouldn't be hard. He and his fellow Avengers assigned seats were much further back than the musicians that were invited or nominated. He could see you from his seat, but you were far enough away to basically guarantee no forced interactions.
He merely sat in his seat, greeting people as they stopped by to say hello, and waited for the show to start. The quicker this thing was over, the quicker he would be able to go back to avoiding his feelings.
-
Walking the carpet was an absolute dream. You only wish you could've been more present. You were still incredibly nervous for your performance, and the murmurs you heard about the Avengers being in attendance did nothing to help.
You just had to choose to believe that Steve wouldn't come tonight. Unless he was so unaffected by the breakup that he could be here without it being a problem, which was a scenario you needed to put out of your head. No thoughts of break ups or Steve. At least, not until the performance.
Finding your table was easy enough once you got inside, and refusing to look around may have seemed odd, but people could easily chalk it up to nerves. Not many new about your surprise performance, but everyone knew it was your first Grammy's ceremony You were on tour when you were nominated for Best New Artist, ultimately winning the award, but missing out on the ceremony.
Other artists stopped by and chatted for a few minutes until eventually the lights dimmed and the show began.
-
Before long, a stage manager was ushering you out of your chair on a commercial break and bringing you backstage to get ready. You hadn't had much choice when it came to your carpet look- a gorgeous pink dress with plenty of tulle- but your performance look was more customizable.
You chose a dark blue set with plenty of crystals sewn onto the fabric. It looked like the night sky, and if blue is Steve's favorite color so what. This was the exact vibe you'd dreamed up when you were writing the song, so it only felt right to perform in it.
Your hair and makeup needed minimal changes, so after a few touch ups, you were being ushered toward the stage. It seemed everything backstage was happening fast enough to leave no time for nerves.
"And now, our long awaited surprise performer! She has taken the world by storm with her surprise release, I wouldn't be surprised if we saw her nominated for next year's awards. Please welcome F/N L/N performing Timeless!"
You were already seated at the piano when the curtains were drawn back. Although the song wasn't a piano ballad on the album, it felt right for this performance. You wasted no time getting started once the cheers died down.
Down the block there's an antique shop and something in my head said stop, so I walked in. On the counter was a cardboard box and the sign said "Photo's 25 cents each."
They were some very literal opening lines, and unsurprisingly the memories were flooding through you. You were out walking around the city, trying to clear your head, when you stumbled upon an antique store. The photos on the counter were the very first inspiration for lyrics to the vague idea of a song.
Black and white, saw a 30s bride and two lovers laughing on the porch of their first house. The kind of love you only find once in a lifetime. The kind you don't put down. And that's when I called you, and it's so hard to explain, but in those photos, I saw us instead.
It was so easy to envision Steve in the 30s, you couldn't help but put yourself in these photos with him. Your lives would be so different if you'd met back then, but there wasn't a doubt in your mind that you would love him just the same.
And, somehow, I know that you and I would've found each other. In another life, you still would've turned my head.
This was something you'd told Steve over and over. Every time he felt unsure of being in this time, you said "I would love you in any life, Steve. Any life. I'm just glad you found me in this one." You really had to gear up for the first chorus. It had one of the most telling, and therefore nerve wracking, lines.
-
Even if we'd met on a crowded street in 1944, and you were headed off to fight in the war. You still would've been mine. We would've been timeless.
Steve was slack jawed as he listened to your song for the first time. The way you were able to take the little memories and build such a beautiful melody out of them astounded him. His emotions were suddenly overwhelming, and there was now way for him to runaway from them this time.
I would've read your love letters every single night, and prayed to god you'd be coming home alright. And you would've been fine. We would've been timeless.
It wasn't that far off from this reality. Anytime Steve was on a mission, he'd write you letters to read while he was away. After the first time, you started writing letters for him to take with him as well. Even if the two of you couldn't talk on the phone, you had something from the other to tide you over.
'Cause I believe that we were supposed to find this. So even in a different life, you still would've been mine. We would've been timeless.
There was that line about a different life again. Steve already felt like he was living a different life, and somehow you knew exactly how to express what he was feeling while simultaneously reassuring him of your own love.
I had to smile when it caught my eye, there was one of a teenage couple in the driveway. Holdin' hands on the way to a dance and the date on the back said 1958. Which brought me back to the first time I saw you. Time stood still like something in this old shop.
Steve could still easily picture the very first second he saw your face. He wanted to be anywhere but Tony's party, having just come back from a mission that was only moderately successful. They had saved the hostages, but the Hydra agents managed to escape. He wanted nothing more than to track them down and being at the party would only delay everything.
When Tony brought you around for introductions, he found the mission had slipped entirely from his head. You somehow managed to lighten the mood without knowing why he was so grumpy, earning an uncharacteristic laugh from Steve still in Captain mode.
It was no surprise to anyone at the party when the two of you spent the rest of the evening together. Sitting at the bar, or the rare slow dance meant you could continue the never ending conversation.
Steve found himself so lost in thought, he missed most of the second verse and chorus. It wasn't until Bucky nudged him that he refocused on your words.
-
We're gonna be... I'm gonna love you when our hair is turnin' gray. We'll have a cardboard box of photos of the life we've made. And you'll say, "Oh my, we really were timeless."
You could feel the tears building through the second chorus and the bridge, but the third chorus really broke you down. You didn't understand why Steve decided it was best to break up and never getting that closure was taking its toll. You couldn't stop the few tears from falling, the notes that followed uncharacteristically wobbly.
-
We're gonna be timeless, timeless. You still would've been mine. We would've been... Even if we'd met on a crowded street in 1944. You still would've been mine. We would've been...
Steve could hear the tears in your voice easier than he could see them. His moment of weakness was haunting him as his own tears started to fall. He brushed them away quickly, forcing himself to hold it together until you were done.
Down the block there's an antique shop and something in my head said stop, so I walked in.
It was clear to him now more than ever that he was so wrong. He let his insecurities get the better of him, and messed up the single greatest thing that had come from being in this century.
With the show nearly over, he didn't think anyone would notice his absence. Instead of returning to his seat at the end of the commercial break, he slipped out a side exit. He wanted nothing more than to talk to you, but had no way of finding you.
"Steve!" He turned at the sound of a familiar voice calling his name. To his surprise, your manager was standing just a few feet away. "She left right after the song, said she's too tired for the afterparty."
Steve nodded, unsure why she was telling him.
"Here's her current address. Code to the elevator is 0704," she winked, passing him a slip of paper. Understanding dawned on him, and he wanted to scream.
"Thank you, Gina. Really," he managed to control the maelstrom of emotion, subtly slipping outside as quickly as he could. He was meant to ride home in the hired car with the rest of the Avengers, but your address wasn't too far from the Garden. He opted to walk, slowly transitioning into a run as his desperation grew. The flash of cameras followed him down the street, but with his speed he outpaced them quickly enough. He had one thing on his mind and one thing only, fixing things with you.
-
The pounding on your door scared you more than you'd care to admit. Nobody should be able to reach this floor without the code, but still. The knocking had an air of desperation that you wouldn't expect from anyone visiting right now. Gina was the logical choice, but was skipping the afterparty that big of a deal?
You had planned to double check through the peephole, but before you reached the door, the very last voice you'd have expected sounded clear through the door.
"Y/N? Gina, she gave me the code. I just, I need to apologize. I... I fucked up." He stalled, in nearly as much disbelief as you at hearing the words fall out of his mouth.
You swung the door open, gesturing for him to come in. You didn't trust yourself to speak. Hell, you barely trusted yourself to look at him. Once you both settled on the couch, you finally risked a glance.
Steve looked more distraught than you'd ever seen him, but his lack of explanation still left you reeling. He seemed to be at a loss for words himself until you looked at him.
"We really are timeless, huh?" he tried easing into things, instantly regretting his choice of words when you nearly vaulted off the couch.
"Steve, what the hell? You break up with me with no explanation and show up quoting my own lyrics to me?" your words lacked the anger you wished you could express, too raw from the performance to cover the dimensions of hurt. The tears were quick to return to your eyes as Steve slowly approached you.
He grabbed your hands in his and when you showed no signs of pulling away, tried again. "I made the biggest mistake of my life that day. Not just in not explaining, but in deciding I knew what was best for you. In thinking I was doing the right thing by giving in to my fears.
"You are single-handedly the greatest person I've ever known. And I overheard these women saying you could have anyone and do anything... I managed to convince myself that you deserved more. To pretend like breaking up with you was noble and not because I was afraid you'd come to the same conclusion as them"
"Steve," you shook your head, a few tears falling. You were at a loss for words. For the last two months, you thought he just fell out of love with you. His reasoning, although flawed, was reassuring. Still, it didn't undo the hurt he caused.
"I should've known better. And I can't undo what I've already done, but I can promise to never doubt you again. To come to you with my insecurities and listen to your voice when mine isn't strong enough. And I hope I can be that person for you in life- to reassure you when you feel lost." He took a deep breath before continuing, "I love you and if you'll have me again, I want to be timeless with you."
You could feel yourself squeezing his hands tighter and tighter as he spoke, trying to funnel the overwhelming emotions into physical exertion instead of tears.
"I love you too," you whispered, voice breaking on a fresh wave of tears. You wrapped your arms around him, letting him lead you back to the couch. You still had a lot to discuss, but right now, you just wanted him to hold you.
-
Bonus:
A few hours later, after many discussions about ignoring gossip and coming to each other with your problems, Steve finally managed to work up the nerve to voice once more question.
"Is the rest of the album about loving me, or is there a breakup song on there? Because I can handle it, but I might need some warning."
You stared at him for a beat before the question really sunk in.
"You haven't listened to any of it?" you confirmed. When he nodded, you just smirked. "While, I guess you'll find out right now then."
You knew it was 13 songs expressing different kinds of love for him, but you would let him sweat it out for the next 57 minutes.
a/n: here are the songs I envision on the album lol:
Timeless, Call It What You Want, Sweet Nothing, Daylight, New Year's Day, invisible string, Dress, False God, Paper Rings, Cornelia Street, evermore, Today Was A Fairytale, Lover
Summary: you come home from work, only to find a mob boss in your house looking for your roommate.
Warnings: mentions of a gun, mentions of arms and drug trafficking, murder, kidnapping, torture, swearing, tattoos, gambling, think that’s it
A/n: I’m a simple girl. Mob!Bucky makes my brain go whurrrrrr. This is pure self service because I have this tattoo lol. Been along time guys what’s up?
————
“Late night?” The deep voice came from the dark.
“Holy-” fear spiked through your heart from the unfamiliar sound, your arms dropping the bags and your back crashing into the closed front door, “-who.. who are you?” You asked the unfamiliar voice. Turning slightly you see the long haired, leather covered man sat in the dining room. His left arm rested on the table, the prosthetic shining, the light from the street lamp outside shining through the window. His face was half shrouded in darkness, the other half showed his eyes, a little confused but also amused.
“You’re not Caleb.” He replied, sitting back in the chair, tilting his head to the side and moving something that looked suspiciously pistol shaped off of the table and into the inside pocket of his jacket, you reached up and flipped on the light.
“N-no no, I’m not. I’m his roommate.” You said, finally registering who you were talking to. The now fully visible metal arm was a pretty big giveaway, if nothing else. ‘There is a mob boss sat in my kitchen, what the fuck’.
“What do you want with Caleb? Does he owe you something?” The thought was out of your mouth before you could stop it. “Oh god no sorry forget I asked. Sorry... sir? I don’t-”
“I’m assuming from that reaction you know who I am,” He said, smirk on his face as he stood and moved closer, your back pressing flatter against the wall beside the door with every step he took.
“Of..of course I do, everyone in New York knows who you are..Sir” You replied.
“Hmm, I’m gonna take that as a compliment doll,”
“It is! Sorry! Congrats on all the… mafia shit.” Did I just say ‘mafia shit’ to a gangster.
The silence is awkward, his face blank and all you can think is ‘Oh my god I’m gonna die.’ His face twists into a …smile.. you think, y’know its hard to tell, fear has your vision all fuzzy.
He then starts to..laugh. He’s laughing? He’s actually laughing.
“Is this something you do before you kill people? You laugh, give them a false sense of security then shoot them?” You ramble quietly, confused at what’s happening.
He moved his left had to rest on his stomach, the metal catching the light, shining right in you eye and it fully registered that, holy shit, James fucking Barnes, The Winter goddamn Soldier is in my house. This man is literally wanted by every law enforcement agent in the country, he’s in control of one of the most ruthless organisations in the world, they traffic arms and drugs and gun down anyone that gets in the way. Apparently, at least that’s what the news said. The stories about him though, way more upsetting.
The rumor was that after he left the special forces, he was captured by an organisation that wanted him to work for them. When he tried to escape the first time, they took his arm, and he was stuck working for them for a decade. The story goes that after he finally escaped, he tracked down everyone that was a part of it and killed them all, by himself. Alone. Just him. On his own. Then he took over their supply and demand and built his empire from the ground up.
“Oh god.. ‘congrats on all the mafia shit’, that’s the funniest thing I’ve heard in a while…” he pushed out while chuckling. “I’m gonna get that shit tattooed, I swear,” he said.
“I could do that for you,” it was out of your mouth before you could stop it. ‘Oh my god, shut up Y/N’ you thought to yourself.
“What?” He asked, eyes flitting over to yours, his piercing stare causing all sorts of feeling to rise inside your chest; fear, confusion, attraction. Attraction? What? Damn him and his pretty face. He’s a killer Y/N, remember that?
“Nothing, sorry” you answered, looking down at your feet.
“No what did you say Y/n?” He asked again, his voice more stern than before. If you weren’t so scared, you would have questioned how he knew your name.
“I said that I could give you that tattoo, sorry, just slipped out” you replied, unsure what his response would be to your completely unnecessary comment.
“Stop apologising would’ya doll, there’s no need.” He said, sort of sweetly, a small comforting smile on his face, the pet name causing all sorts of lovely feelings inside.
“Sor.. yes Sir,” you corrected yourself.
“And stop calling me Sir darlin, only my employees call me that,” he said, “well my employees and some others..” he said with a dirty smirk, causing your eyebrows to raise sky high.
“Sorry Sir,” you said quickly, not even thinking. “…shit.”
“Seriously doll, you don’t need to be so scared of me,” he stated, his right hand reaching out and landing on your shoulder, your muscles tensing for a second then relaxing when you saw the look in his eye, he was telling the truth
“Ok.. then can I ask why you are here?” You ask, some fear creeping it’s way into your voice despite his reassurance. He kept his face carefully still and he looked you up and down, the feeling of being examined was strong, like he was trying to decide if you were worthy of knowing his business.
“You got it right earlier, your roommate owes me something, and I came to get it from him,” he removes his hand from your arm as he spoke after a tense silence. He was being purposely vague, trying to gage your reaction, to see if you were really clueless or you were playing with him.
“It’s money right, I mean it has to be, what else could he owe you. I told him to stop freaking borrowing money I swear I tried to stop him, but he never listened to me..l”
“You’re rambling darlin, you realise that?” He cuts you off with a smirk on his face.
“I’ve been told I do that when I’m nervous. I don’t know how much Caleb owes you and I don’t know what the situation is but.. if you.. I mean..”
“What doll? What are you trying to say. I won’t be mad, I swear,” Barnes responds, one side of his lips tugging upwards at your mumbling.
“Could you give him some more time?”
He was not expecting that. ‘Brave little thing’ he thought.
“I mean I don’t know how long he’s owed you for but he’s getting back on track I swear, he’s getting better, he is, in-fact he’s at a gamblers anonymous meeting right now, and he has a job interview tomorrow so he can pay rent and pay back people he owes money to.” You rush out, trying to help you friend, “Of course he never told me that he owes money to a mobster but that besides the point” you add quieter, more to yourself than anything but Barnes still heard it. He chuckled and ran his flesh hand through his hair, pushing back the long strands out of his face.
“He does owe money to a mobster, quite a lot in fact so I’m gonna have to say no to that request darlin, I’ve given him long enough.” He responds, his tone dripping with authority, the Brooklyn drawl on the pet name he threw out made your heart beat faster.
“Please. Please just think about it Sir.. uh Mr Barnes.. Sir. Caleb’s had a rough go of it lately, he lost his father not too long ago and he’s been a mess ever since, if you could just give..”
“I already said no once doll, I don’t like repeating myself.” His tone was final, and even though his words were not that intense, the threat in his voice hung in the air like poison gas before slamming into your chest, the fear that had previously been quelled came racing back, sitting on your shoulders like a lead coat.
The silence stayed for longer this time, you eyes firmly fixed to the floor to a sound even the possibility of upsetting the man that had broken into your home.
“So you’re a tattoo artist huh? He asked, his low voice calming you some. Huh he’s trying to make me less afraid of him, what kind of ruthless criminal is he?
“Yes..um I am,” you answer, incredibly aware of the position you were in, better to go along with whatever he did.
“You got a flash book?” He questioned, genuinely interested.
“Uh yeah I do.” You reply awkwardly, not sure where this new line of conversation was coming from.
“Can I see it?”
“…sure,” the word came out as a question.
He nodded at you, and you took it as a sign that you were good to move. Turning slowly and moving away from the wall to your bag on the floor, you reach down and grab your flash sketchbook and hand it to him.
“Are all of these available?” He asked, flipping through the pages, taking in each design.
Seeing him like this, calmly looking through the sketchbook makes it very easy to forget who he was, a ruthless calculating Mob Boss, wanted for almost every crime under the sun.
“The ones with the X’s over them have been done before but could be repeated if someone really wanted it,” you answered, slightly more confident in yourself as you were talking about something you loved.
“This is Latin, right, what does it mean?” He asked, moving to stand next to you pointing to a design in the book, an alien inside a bottle of wine.
“‘In Vino Veritas’, it means ‘In wine, there is truth’” you say, “ I though it was funny, y’know.. ‘the truth is out there’..aliens..” you trailed off, not sure how to explain that design
He let out an quiet amused sound, his shoulder brushing yours, sending a trail of chills down your spine.
“This one is beautiful,” he said, pointing to a different design on the next page.
“Thank you, it’s Icarus, I have it tattooed on me, it was hard as hell doing it on my own leg,” you say, proud of the design you created.
“Icarus, what’s his story? I can’t quite remember, ” he asks.
“It’s a Greek myth y’know, Icarus and his father were held captive by King Minos in a tower, his father created wax wings so they could fly away from their captors. The father warned Icarus from flying too high or too low, but he ignored his fathers warnings and flew too close to the sun and his wings melted. It’s a moral story to warn against the dangers of complacency and hubris, but to me it’s just a tragedy.” You say, turning to face him, making eye contact with the man. He listened intently to the story, his face unreadable but you thought you saw a flash of something in his eyes, maybe he related to the myth, a man that was once held captive, now with everything in his hands, in danger of losing it all if he flew too close to the sun himself.
“A tragedy huh? I don’t think there’s anything tragic about it. He was warned not to do something dangerous and he went and did it anyway, it’s his own damn fault,” he stated, something slightly argumentative in his tone.
He looked straight at you while speaking and you couldn’t help but feel as if he was looking into your soul, like his statement was some kind of test.
“I agree with the idea that he got what he deserved, but I meant it as a tragedy for his father. Creating something so pure for you and your child to escape from captivity, only for your child to ignore your warnings and pay the ultimate price for it. His father probably spent the rest of his life regretting escaping his prison because that was the action that ultimately lead to his sons death. It’s heartbreaking if you see it from a different perspective,” you say back, not really expecting him to engage you in a philosophical debate.
“Hmm.. that’s an interesting way to see it, I’m not really one for looking at different perspectives, mine suits me just fine,” he answered, the fact that this man was dangerous came screaming back to you with the look on his face, blank like he was devout of all emotion at that moment. You got the feeling he wasn’t speaking metaphorically anymore.
The tension was palpable, you not knowing what to say next and him deciding he was done talking for the time being. He placed the book down on a side table, and turned back to you. “Y’know what, I want it.” He said, confusing flooding your brain.
“Want what?” You ask calmly, not wanting to push your luck with the man.
“That tattoo, the Icarus one, I want it.” He answers, leaning back against the side of the table he was sat at earlier. His crossed his arms, which should have been intimidating, but for some reason the only thought floating through your head was Damn his arms are bigger than my head. Gimmie.
“You want the Icarus?” You ask, somewhat stupidly and he had just said that.
“Yes I do,” he answered simply, “Are you free tomorrow?” He asks, smile on his face.
“Umm not really, I have a few appointments tomo..”
“Move them, hell cancel them. Block out a spot long enough for me to get this tattoo.” He states, cutting of your sentence.
“I can’t do that, it’s too short notice and I could loose..”
“I’ll pay what ever you lose for cancelling the appointments. I’m getting this done, tomorrow.” He cuts you off again, a finality in his tone that warns you it would be pointless and probably rather stupid to argue.
“Uh..ok” you respond, shaking your head a little, still trying to figure out what just happened.
“Great.” He clapped his hands together and the sound made you jump. Barnes either didn’t notice it or just didn’t care. “Give me your phone.”
“Huh? Why do you want my phone?” You question.
Barnes just rolled his eyes, walked forward until he was stood right infront of you, toe to toe, staring down at you with a semi amused look on his face.
“How am I supposed to find out where your shop is if you don’t text me the location?” He said sarcastically.
Literally a million different ways, google it for starters, get one of your goons to find it, stalk me and follow me there.. c’mon man think. Obviously you kept these thoughts to yourself but Barnes smirked as if he could hear them anyway. Pulling out your phone and handing it to him you ask, “What time do you want to come in for?”
“Around 1-ish doll, that ok?” He asked, knowing that it is, as he’s already told you to move/cancel your other appointments.
“That’s fine by me Bar..Mr Barnes” you answer, slipping up, almost forgetting the level of respect you should probably show to the gangster in your home.
He calls his phone from yours, adding the new number to contacts in both phones, “there, now you can let me know the address of your shop.”
“I’ll sent it to you tomorrow.. unless you want me to send it now?” You asked he hands your phone back , uncertain of what he wanted
“Tomorrows fine” he answers, walking backwards towards the front door, “I’ll see ya in the afternoon doll,” he says while opening the door and mostly leaving until he pauses completely, slowly turning back towards you.
This is it, he’s been messing with me this whole time and now he’s going to shoot me.
“Tell Caleb he has 6 weeks to get my money back to me or I’ll be paying him another visit, ok doll.” He says, no question in his voice. He waits until you answer with a “Yes, Mr Barnes,” and disappears into the hallway outside your apartment.
It takes about 5 minutes for the shock to fully wear off, and it causes you to stagger over to the couch, fall backwards onto it an ask into the empty room, “What the actual fuck just happened?”
As soon as the question was out of your mouth , your phone buzzed in your hand.
Just a hurt/comfort (of the mental variety) Steve drabble :)
You heard the footsteps coming down the hall before the knock sounded on the door. You knew it was Steve before he spoke, the sound of his sigh filling you with equal parts love and sorrow.
“Y/N? You missed dinner.” You could hear the silent, annoyed ‘again’ without him needing to say it. Or maybe your brain added what you thought you deserved to hear.
You couldn’t bring yourself to answer. He wouldn’t miss the wobble in your voice, and then he would know for sure it was still happening. Better for him to think you’re already asleep.
“I know you’re awake,” he whispered as he opened the door. There goes that plan. Still, you didn’t turn away from the wall. He laid down next to you, content to just hold you in his effort to help guide you through the unrelenting fog your brain has put you in.
Apart of you embraced his presence, but a more dominant thought refused to let you enjoy it. The longer you laid in his arms, the more tumultuous your thoughts became. And thoughts always seemed to be the enemy during these episodes.
“I wish I could understand. Maybe then I could help more.”
Those words were the first thing Steve did that surprised you. He’d always been willing to help, but you didn’t know he wanted to understand. Nobody before him had ever cared enough, and maybe that was the problem.
Your own voice surprised you as you voiced one of the memories tumbling around in your kind.
“This is a cry for help.”
A tear slid across the bridge of your nose just as you felt Steve tense beside you. It seemed he was just as surprised to hear you speak as you were. “That is what I said the last time I tried to make someone understand. In a car full of people I considered family.”
The memory had never been clearer for you. Driving down the highway, screaming along to all the angsty songs from your college years. The music choice alone seemed like a red flag. The lull between songs should’ve been quiet enough for all of them to hear you, and yet…
“And maybe nobody heard me,” you justified to yourself more so than Steve. “Maybe it wasn’t as loud as I thought. Maybe they were distracted by something else…
“But maybe that was part of the problem,” Steve supplied when you trailed off. He could’ve kept going. Knowing Steve meant knowing he always had a motivational speech in his back pocket for any occasion. But Steve knowing you meant he knew that sentence was more than enough to make you feel seen.
He held you while you broke down, content to always be there to help you build yourself back up.
So, for your birthday ask game. I was gonna choose a trope from the office relationship, but it got out of hand when I liked more than 5🥹.
Can we please have something for Steve and Reader, where at SHIELD they’re incredibly close and have feelings for each other?
Lots of sticky notes on laptops, doodles on briefs, texts to one another under the table about coworkers, fixing ties and hair, and maybe sporadic texts about something to do with“work/meetings” when they really just want an excuse to talk to the other?
Sab, darling!!!
A/N: I loved this request so I hope you like what I wrote for it. Also send in all the other request I promise I don’t mind!!
Between sticky notes, meeting rooms and elevators.
Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader
Warning: pining and fluff, some America puns (I’m so sorry they’re only like two but I couldn’t help myself)
You were late and your boss hated when you were late. It didn’t help that when you finally got to the briefing all eyes were on you when you got to the only available seat.
“Thank you for gracing us with your presence, Ms. Y/L/N. Now we can finally get started.” Your boss announces.
You take a deep breath as you look up to find Steve sitting right across from you. He raised an eyebrow at you and shook his head in mock disappointment. You rolled your eyes and smiled before your eyes landed on the disposable coffee cup in front of you. There was a little smiley face with your name on it in Steve’s handwriting. You mouth a thank you and he winks at you before turning his attention to the front of the room. Those pesky little butterflies that made your stomach their home since the day you met Steve took flight again.
~~~~~~~
“Hey Y/N,” Steve calls out to you as soon as the meeting is over. The sea of people in the hallway parts for him. “So how was your morning?” He smiles, the mischief behind his eyes lets you know he’s just joking.
“It was wonderful. My alarm didn’t go off, traffic was horrible and I had this meeting right at the beginning of the day with the most annoying of my boss.”
You hear someone clear their throat behind you. Steve is already holding his laughter as you turn around with a horrified look on your face. Your boss glares at you for a moment.
“Don’t let your tardiness become a habit Ms. Y/L/N.” he states before walking away.
Steve just gives a long whew as he watches your boss walk away. You cover your face behind the files you’re holding before Steve pulls them away in order to hold them for you.
“Did you know he was standing behind me?” You look up at him with a pout.
“Absolutely not. I would never let you embarrass yourself like that even though it was entertaining.”
You just glare up at him, mostly playfully. He laughs as you both get on the elevator. As others get on you’re pushed back more until you end up back to chest with Steve. His free arm comes up and around your waist to keep you up right. You hope he can’t hear your heart beating faster the longer you stand that close to him.
Once you are on your floor you get out while Steve stays on the elevator. Neither of you would really look at each other so you couldn’t see the pink tint on his cheeks and the sheepish smile that played on his lips.
“I’ll-uh I’ll send those reports to you as soon as I can.” You say.
“I’ll be waiting for them.”
“I’ll see you later.”
“Yeah, see you later.” He says and then the doors close.
*****
Just as you said the reports were ready for Steve. With a pep in your step you go up to his office to drop them off even though there is someone that can do that for you. You frown when you get to your destination as you see that the lights are off. Grabbing a post-it you always carry with you and a pen you write a quick note and leave the file in his drop box.
A few minutes later you get a text.
Steve: Thanks for the vote of confidence.
Attached to his text was a picture of the sticky note. It was a drawing of a stick figure saluting and it says. ‘I know you ameriCAN do it.’
Y/N: You’re welcome. ☺️☺️
Y/N: let me know you make it back safe!
Steve: Always do. 😉
You smile at your phone before putting it away and working on the next set of reports.
~~~~~~
Steve: This guy’s voice is so monotonous that he's making himself fall asleep.
You try to hide your laugh behind a cough while Steve has the nerve to send you a message shushing you.
Y/N: not fair! Don’t make me laugh like that.
Steve: 🤷🏼 it’s true though… don’t look now but I think Linda from accounting is asleep with her eyes open.
You slowly look over and you watch as one of her coworkers nudges her. She starts slightly and then sinks into her chair further.
Y/N: 💀💀 oh maybe you should recruit him for the avengers. He could just give this speech to any bad guy and they’ll turn themselves in just to avoid hearing him anymore.
It was Steve’s turn to huff a laugh and try to cover it by clearing his throat. You were seated in different sections because of your jobs but still managed to be in each other's line of sight. Every time you looked over he would pretend to be nodding off, you shook your head every time before looking away.
****
“I thought that guy would never stop talking.” You say as you meet Steve in the hallway.
“Yeah, that was painful.”
“Oh, here are those analyses you requested.” You hand him a few folders. “Everything is arranged from what I thought would need priority down to low grade issues.”
“Thanks. Here are my completed reports.” He hands you a folder. “Everything is signed, all it needs is your review and it can be filed.”
“Thanks. I guess I’ll see you later.”
“Yeah, see you later.” He smiles at you. That boyish grin that makes your knees weak.
When you get to your desk and open the first folder you laugh. Paperclipped to the first report was a doodle of the speaker from earlier except Steve has made him look like a sloth. You take the doodle out of the folder and place it in the small box you keep all of the doodles Steve gives you.
~~~~~~~~
“Hello?”
“Hey Steve,” you say as you look over some information that he needed. “I have that report you requested but you aren’t in your office.”
“Oh yeah, I was called back to New York for a mission with the avengers.”
“Oh, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“No,” he shakes his head even though you can’t see him. “You’re never an interruption. Is everything ok?”
“Yeah I just wanted to know what you wanted me to do with the report , you know, since you’re not here.”
There was a protocol in place for this occasion. You knew that and so did Steve. Still neither of you could wipe those dopey grins on your faces as you spoke to each other.
“Why don’t you hold on to them and I’ll get them once I get back?”
“That works.” There’s a small silence before you break it. “Well I’ll leave you to it. Please-“
“I don’t have to hang up yet. I mean if you have time, we can talk.”
“I’d like that.”
“Have I missed anything in the office since I left?” He asks as he sits back in his bed at the tower.
“You mean in the three hours since you left?”
“Yup.”
“Of course you did. Now you didn’t hear it from me, but rumor is that Linda from accounting is having an affair.”
“No!”
“Yes. And you’ll never guess with who?”
“Who?” Steve asks excitedly.
“Sloth man.”
“There’s no way.”
“It’s only what I’ve heard, it hasn’t been confirmed.”
“I wonder what she sees in him.”
“A good night's sleep.” You murmur.
Steve throws his head back and laughs. Once he calms down he starts giving you theories about the supposed rumor. Then the conversation turns into other topics. Before you know it you’ve been on the phone for at least two hours when he needs to leave.
“Please be safe.”
“I will. See you in a day or so.” Steve says before hanging up.
~~~~~~~~~
The day had dragged on. Maybe it was because you didn’t have much work for the day. But you had a sneaking suspicion that it had to do with a certain blond haired, blue-eyed super soldier not being around.
It wasn’t until late in the evening and you were working extra hours that you received a very long overdue break. There’s a little knock at the end of your desk. You push yourself a little bit to turn your chair around. Words die on your tongue when you see a bruised up Steve standing there.
“Oh my god what happened?” You raise your hand to lightly touch a bruise on his cheek.
He wraps his fingers around your wrist and you immediately realize how inappropriate it is. When you go to pull your hand away he doesn’t let you. His thumb is drawing a lazy circle on your wrist as he brings both your hands down.
“Just some bad guys. Nothing I couldn’t handle. Why are you still here?”
“I think my boss is still mad that I called him annoying and I’m stuck doing more paperwork.” You shrug your shoulders.
“Well I hope you haven’t had dinner yet.”
“Nope.”
“Good.” He smiles at you and then pulls a bag from behind his back. “Because I brought your favorite.”
“My hero.” You beam before turning and clearing a spot on your desk. Steve places the bag down and pulls a chair from an empty desk and sits down with a bit of a grunt. “So spill it.” You motion to him.
“Just a mission.”
“I need a play by play. Come on please. I read all of your reports, they’re basically a book at this point and I need the next chapter.”
He huffed a laugh. “Fine. But it’s rather boring.”
“You could never bore me.”
“Could I get that in writing? I’d like to have proof for Tony.”
“Sure, I’ll even have it notarized.”
He laughs again and shakes his head. Then he starts talking about the mission. You could sit there listening to Steve talk about anything. After he finished that story you moved on to other topics, work now long forgotten.
~~~~~~~
As much as you hated it, Shield was requiring a certain number of their employees from each department to attend a gala. Because your boss still had it out for you, you were selected to attend.
You were fiddling with the necklace you’d paired with your dress as you walked through the already crowded venue. Someone grabs you by your forearm and pulls you into an empty hallway while you try to throw a punch.
“Woah calm down, it’s just me.” Steve said as he let go of you.
“Why would you grab me like that?”
“I’m sorry I just didn’t want anyone to realize I was here. Please don’t be mad.”
“I’m not mad, it’s just I thought I was being kidnapped.” You frown a bit.
“I’d never let that happen.”
Heat rushed to your cheeks, you knew he meant it as a friend but sometimes you wish it was more than that.
“Is everything ok?”
“Honestly, I’m kind of nervous.”
“You are nervous? Why?” You ask incredulously.
“This function is for World War Two vets. I don’t know it’s not the same as if I was dealing with someone that didn’t fight in it. They ask questions and I can play it down a bit but with the vets… It makes me feel exposed.”
“Is there anything I can do to help?”
“I have to give a speech. If I find you a seat closer to the stage would you take it?”
“Of course.”
“Thank you .”
“Don’t mention it.”
His large hand takes yours and he pulls you down the hall with the intention of leading you to the seat he mentioned. You tug on his hand so that he stops and turns to you. Pulling him a bit closer you reach up and fix the bow tie. Then your hands instinctively run across his shoulders and down his chest in order to smooth out his tux. He smiles at you then. His eyes light up when he sees you return it. The moment is far too intimate for two friends to be sharing but it feels right nonetheless.
Steve graciously walks you to an open seat and heads to the stage. Just like you knew it would, the speech was a success. Still every once in a while he’d look down at you and you’d return an encouraging smile.
****
“May I have this dance?” Steve had his hand stretched out in front of you.
“Why yes you may.”
You place your smaller hand in his and he leads you to the dance floor. Steve places one hand on your waist and the other takes your hand. As a slow song starts playing he begins to lead, the scent of his cologne is intoxicating in the best ways.
“I thought you didn’t dance.”
“Only with the right partner. Besides, Sam bet that I wouldn’t dance with the most beautiful woman here. I had to prove him wrong.” He says just as he turns both of you and Sam comes into your line of sight, raising a glass of champagne and smiling.
“Steve…”
“You don’t have to say anything. I just thought it was time I told you how I really felt. It’s ok if you don’t feel the same but I learned my lesson the hard way.” He spins you around and pulls you back in. “I like you as more than just friends. Seeing you makes my day, I can literally be having the worst day and you make it better. If it weren’t for you working at Shield would have been a nightmare. You saw me for more than just Captain America and I don’t think you realize what that means to me. It’s never bothered you to have to do things differently or having to spend time teaching me something because I just don’t know about all of the new technology. Most importantly you don’t mock me for it, you accept me as I am. And I’m so grateful you’re in my life.”
Steve dips you and as he pulls you back up all you can do is stare up at him with wide eyes. He smiles fondly at you as he takes your hand and presses a kiss to your knuckles.
“I have to go on a mission. But would you be willing to talk about this some more when I get back?”
You just nod, all words had escaped you at the moment. How were you supposed to respond? You adored Steve but never in a million years did you think it was reciprocated. Steve leans down and kisses your cheek before walking towards Sam. Then you watch as they both walk out. By the time you leave the gala you’re still reeling and trying to figure out how to respond.
~~~~~~~~~
Steve didn’t get back until Tuesday. It had been four days since the gala and since he told you how he felt. He was supposed to be back today. You knew for a fact he was because some of the people on your team had mentioned seeing him. Without being able to take much more you rush to the elevator and press the button for his floor.
Everyone around you rushes out but you are glued to your spot. Standing at the doors is Steve, looking as handsome as ever. His eyes light up when he sees you even though there’s a really bad bruise on his cheek and it’s obvious the mission was worse than expected. Still he steps into the elevator and no one dares walk in, leaving the two of you alone. The elevator starts to ascend but Steve pushes the stop button.
“Hi.” You manage to squeak out.
“Hi, I am free tonight by the way.”
“Oh, good.” You say as you try to hide your smile.
“But another America joke really?” He holds up the post-it note you had placed inside a folder for him to find.
It simply reads: on a scale of one to America, how free are you tonight? With a few stars drawn around it.
“You are Captain America, I have to use that to my advantage.” You giggle at his fake huff of annoyance. “Since you’re a superhero does that mean you’re super free tonight?”
Steve genuinely laughs this time before he turns to you. He finds that you’re already looking up at him with a soft smile.
“You’re lucky you’re so cute.”
“Oh so you think I’m cute.”
“Yup.” He takes a step towards you, forcing you against the wall. His hands rest on the small handrail, effectively caging you in.
“How cute would I have to be to get you to kiss me?”
“I think you’re there already.” Steve says before his lips are on yours.
It was better than what you had imagined. His lips were soft, the kiss was sweet. Unfortunately it was short lived.
“If you two are done holding up the elevator, I’d really appreciate seeing Captain Rogers in my office. Now.” Director Fury’s voice came through the speaker and you pulled away quickly.
You giggled at the fact that you had been caught. The butterflies in your belly were in full flight as Steve smiled at you. When the elevator came to a stop he pressed a kiss to your cheek and stepped out.
“I’ll see you tonight.” You smile at him as the doors close. A few seconds later you get a text.
A/N: This is a new AU universe series that is going to work in the same way as my Mechanic!Curtis series. It’s gonna be a collections of interconnected oneshots that all take place within the same universe but there’s no over arching plot, its just oneshots as and when I think of them!
Warnings will be tagged in each part
If you have an idea or scene you want to see let me know by sending me an ask!
ellievsbear
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theartofmadeline
yousharknotpass
snowghoul
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