#simmerandwrite

“Uhm,” you started slowly, sitting up a bit straighter as you put your phone down. “A weird turn of topics in the group chat with the girls.” 

Something about your smile made Steve think that wasn’t the whole truth. 

He laughed. Okay, he’d play along. “And is my response going to be the next topic in the group chat with the girls?” 

You shook your head. “I wouldn’t do that. Just because Maria loves updating us on her sex life constantly, doesn’t mean I contribute the same way. Scouts honour.” 

Steve pushed back on his chair and stood, removing his glasses as he walked over to join you. 

“Weird place for pillow talk,” he said, planting himself beside you on the couch. You were quick to adjust and cozy up at his side. “But yes, I’ve had a threesome. More than one.”

“Oooh. With who?”

One of his eyebrows shot up, scanning your curious wide eyes. “Sweetheart.”

“I mean, you don’t have to tell me. I’m just wondering how threesomes even happen. I’ve never had one, thought about it I guess but like.. who executes the idea? Do you talk about it beforehand or does it just happen? Who makes sure it’s fair?”

Steve let out a hard laugh. “When I’m involved, everyone has always had a good time. It’s been fair.”

“Okay but with who?”

He hesitated. 

“Come onnnnn. Who was it? When was it? Wait. Have you had more than one? Was it with someone I know? You know I don’t care about your history with Sharon. She probably has some attractive girlfriends.”

Steve blew out a breath. What did he have to lose here? You and him were both typically very secure in your relationship, but he still didn’t want to unintentionally hurt any feelings. 

“Okay. If you really want to know.” He shook his head, somehow confused he was even talking to you about this. “I’ve had a few. Haven’t happened in a while, usually there are just certain circumstances where… It happened organically. With a repeat participant.” 

You nodded, eager. “Whoooo?”

“Usually it was me, and that repeat participant, and a nice girl we found at the club.”

“Steve.” You groaned out his name. “Just tell me. Who is she?”

Steve’s lips grew into a small smirk as he gave you a sideways glance. “Not a she.”

You gasped, sitting up on your knees at his side. “What? Who? Oh my god, I shouldn’t have just assumed it was a woman.” You stopped your train of thought and narrowed your eyes. “Wait. Oh my god. Oh my god! Is it Bucky?”

Steve raised his eyebrows then gave you a slow nod.

“Ahh!!” You tapped your hand on his shoulder, excited. “That makes so much sense. You two have such a close friendship and honestly, that’s..” You let out a long breath, closing your eyes for a second. “That’s really hot. You and Bucky. Damn.”

Steve shifted slightly in his position, raising an eyebrow and watching as you grew excited beside him on the couch. “Sorry? That’s really what?”

“Steve.” You opened one eye and looked at him quickly. “You heard me. Listen, I’m not blind. Bucky is attractive. But don’t– I’m not, like, attracted to him. Okay, well, I am but not like that.”

“Like how then?” Steve couldn’t help but make you squirm about this whole topic now. It was something he hadn’t ever considered with you - sharing your intimacy with anyone else. Mostly because the idea of any other person on the planet even looking at you like that made him fire up with a possessive side he had a hard time hiding. But… Bucky wasn’t just anyone. 

There was a certain thrill that Bucky and Steve used to share when they’d do this together. The experiences were never really planned but Steve knew if someone caught his eye that Bucky would be interested in just as much as he was, and they were both in the mood for a little extra fun, then it was only fair to throw it on the table. They had their own signal, even. A quick side hug with a keyword dropped into the conversation, followed by a confirmation double ear tug.

It had always been a sober choice, too. 

“Stop,” you replied quietly, leaning into Steve’s shoulder again. “Forget I said anything.”

“I can forget it.. If that’s what you want.” He extended his hand to prop your chin up, encouraging you to look him in the eyes again. “But if it’s something you want to discuss further..”

You pulled back slightly. “What?” It looked like your mind was misfiring as you found your words. “But.. wouldn’t that be weird? Also.. wait. Are you – Hmm. It sounds fun but kind of scary and.. How do you even start and..” You paused and closed your eyes again. “Would Bucky even want to… with me..? Am I even his type?”

“Sweetheart,” Steve turned directly to you, grasping your hands in his. “You have no idea.”

—

Steve knew the right moment would present itself. Because the millisecond you had started the conversation with him about it, he had a feeling it would happen eventually. But, it was important that the timing was just right.

Mostly because he didn’t want you to worry or panic about it. In fact, in the few conversations you and Steve had shared about the entire threesome topic, he had made it abundantly clear that you would be in charge. That was usually the method Steve and Bucky followed anyway, depending on the third person sharing a bed with them.

Really though, after all of this chatter about the possibility, Steve could see your confidence and excitement growing. You had told Steve it was his responsibility to read your energy and Bucky’s to make sure everything felt right. And Steve had suggested maybe easing into the whole thing anyways. Maybe you didn’t go all the way right away. 

But, the right moment had to arrive.

And on a very ordinary Saturday night at the club, things seemed to be aligning. First and foremost, Steve knew you were in a great mood. You had an extra day off, you’d recently finished a big project at work and Steve had even just surprised you with a shopping spree. He knew how rarely you spent money on yourself, especially for new pieces of clothing. He had been especially generous when it came to a few pieces of lingerie. 

One set specifically he knew you had on under that new dress. While the club wasn’t always your preferred location for a Saturday night, you had been the one to suggest it this time. You wanted to dance with your girls and who was Steve to hold you back?

As for Bucky, Steve knew his friend had recently gone on a few bumpy first dates. First dates that didn’t deliver because it was clear from Bucky’s on and off grumpy mood that he was pretty pent up. Steve knew it was still a shot in the dark if Bucky would want to participate, but maybe he’d want to let off some steam and have fun.

So, when it was early enough in the night that both you and Bucky hadn’t yet overindulged, Steve started to put a plan into action.

When you came back upstairs to his private area for a break from the dance floor, Steve handed you a glass of water. 

“I’m cutting you off,” he whispered into your ear.

“I’ve only had one glass of –”

“Baby..” Steve pressed a kiss against your neck. “Just trust me. You go back down and dance while I chat with Bucky.”

You let out a small gasp, reaching out to grab the lapel of Steve’s suit. “Wait. Really? Are we–”

Steve cut you off with a kiss, then motioned towards the dancefloor. You gave him a coy smile over your shoulder as you hurried down to find Wanda and Maria again.

With a deep breath, Steve ran a hand through his hair then headed towards the bar. Bucky had his back against the counter, sipping a rocks glass as he surveyed the space. Steve stopped at Bucky’s side, giving him a small nudge on the arm.

“What are you drinkin’?” Steve prompted, matching Bucky’s pose.

Bucky furrowed his brow, turning to look at Steve. “Whiskey.”

“Wanna switch it up?” Steve asked slowly, turning his head to meet Bucky’s eyes. “Maybe we split a grapefruit sidecar?”

Bucky nearly choked as he turned to face Steve directly. “What? Rogers, I’m not going to .. If you are planning to fuck this up with your girl over some other broad.. I’m going to fuckin’ kick your ass and–”

Steve brought his hands up to stop Bucky from doing exactly that. “Jesus, Buck. Don’t think so fucking little of me, punk.” Steve rolled his neck then leaned in closer. “This invite is coming from me and my girl.”

Bucky’s eyes blew open, mouth slightly agape as he looked at Steve. “Are you serious?”

Steve grinned, raising his eyebrows up for a brief moment. “You need a second to mull it over?”

Bucky blinked, clearly letting his mind catch up. He quickly discarded his glass on the bar and raised his hand to tug on his earlobe. “Stevie, you know I’d never admit to having impure thoughts about your girl but..”

Steve laughed then grasped Bucky’s shoulder. “My office. 20 minutes.”

–

Steve came and found you on the dancefloor not long after he had pitched that tonight would be the night. And holy shit, you couldn’t believe it. You were buzzing with more than just excitement - there was a flutter of nerves and impossibilities flashing through your mind too.

Even though Steve had quite thoroughly told you how much fun you’d all have, how Bucky would enjoy himself just as much as you would, if not more. Despite those reassurances, you wouldn’t believe it could even happen until, well, it happened.

Now, as you were heading to Steve’s office - there seemed to be some sort of electricity in the air. 

God, you looked hot tonight. That was helping a lot. Out of all the clothes Steve had dropped down cash for, the dress you were wearing had been one of your favourites. It hugged the curves of your body in the most perfect way, with a generous view of your chest and a short hemline that left little to the imagination. You had felt effortlessly sexy in it, especially with the lacy garments underneath threatening to peak out at the top.

Steve’s office was empty when you both arrived, the walls dulling the bass from trickling in from the club. Steve left the big lights off, opting for just lamplight and ambiance from the illuminated Brooklyn skyline seeping in. 

Before you could start nervously pacing, Steve pulled you into his arms. He was leaning against the edge of the desk and you stood between his legs.

“Hey, remember what I said before..” Steve started, slowly tracing his fingers up and down your arms as he kept eye contact with you. “If you change your mind, at any point.. You just say so. And then it’s over, no questions asked.”

You nodded. “I know. Thank you.” As much as you were trying to keep it together, you couldn’t help but giggle. “I’m excited. But I'm nervous, too. How does this start and–”

A knock at the door interrupted your thoughts. After a few seconds, there was a voice.

“It’s, uh, me. Bucky.”

Steve glanced down at you, giving you one last look waiting for your confirmation. You responded with a coy smile and a nod, shifting around to lean against Steve. He draped his arms around you and called out for Bucky to come in.

You had always been aware of how attractive Bucky was. You were a normal, warm blooded woman after all. But there was something even hotter about seeing him cross through the doorway, knowing full well what intentions you all shared. And the fact that Bucky looked nervous, like his confidence wasn’t guarding him as it usually did, made it all feel even better.

Fuck. These men and their suits, too. Bucky was wearing black on black on black and the way his metal arm glinted under the lamplight, you nearly choked.

Bucky shut the door behind him, glancing over his shoulder quickly to look back at Steve. You sensed Steve’s nod, because Bucky made sure to lock the door, too. Then after an awkward silence, Bucky took it upon himself to sit on the couch.

“So,” Steve started, all calm and casual as his fingertips skated against your exposed collarbone. 

All you could do was stare straight ahead at Bucky, watching him watching you and Steve. Fuck, what happened now? How did you cross this line and–

You gasped as Steve’s lips found your neckline, weakening your knees as his tongue and lips explored your skin.

“Sweetheart,” Steve paused, moving one hand down your body and toying with the bottom of your dress. “How are you feeling?”

You whimpered, closing your eyes. “G-good. Yeah, so good.”

Steve grinned against your neck, pressing another kiss under your ear. “Buck?”

You looked back towards Bucky as he took a second to reply. He was already adjusting the top of his jeans, taking in slow breaths. “Yeah, so far so..” When he bit his lip, you nearly collapsed.

Steve lowered his voice, leaning down to whisper in your ear. “Baby, what do you want? You wanna help Bucky feel even better?”

Holy fuck, you did. You really did. Jesus Christ almighty, the whole concept of Steve encouraging you to put your mouth on Bucky was electric. 

“You already makin’ a mess of those nice panties, baby?” You nodded again, looking back up at Steve as he grabbed your neck. “You take care of Bucky then he’ll watch me take care of you. How’s that sound?” 

Your reply was a jumbled up moan of positivity as Steve kissed you again, hard and wet before squeezing your hips and swatting your ass. 

As you walked towards him, Bucky sat up just a bit straighter on the couch. He was still nervous but judging by how he was running his hands down his thighs, you only imagined how excited he was, too.

“Hi Bucky,” you said quietly as you very slowly got down on your knees. “Can I..” You dragged your tongue across your lips, then glanced down at his belt.

Bucky swallowed hard, sparing another glance towards Steve before looking back at you. He sucked in a breath then reached his hand out to steady your chin. “Only if you want to, doll.”

You couldn’t help but smile, genuinely. Despite being on your knees in front of him, you were grateful that Bucky was still confirming your own interest in this whole thing.

“Yes, please.” You nodded and placed your hands on his knees, slowing running them up his slacks until you met his belt buckle.

He was quick to assist you in your task, pulling at his belt and lifting his hips as you yanked on his pants and boxers. His cock was already hard and ready and you couldn’t even help yourself, immediately reaching for it.

“Fuck,” Bucky exhaled, hands clutching the couch as you ran your hands against it.

“Buck,” Steve called out from across the room. “Pillow.”

You looked up at Bucky, who was scrambling to reach out and grab a nearby throw pillow from the opposite side of the couch. Without a second thought, he lifted it to rest behind his head before Steve interrupted him.

“For her knees, you dumbass,” Steve laughed, and you couldn’t help but join in.

“Oh, fuck. Sorry,” Bucky mumbled, helping you position it under your knees.

You didn’t reply, but instead you gave Bucky a sweet smile then got to work. You swiped your tongue around the head of his cock, before trailing it down along the soft silk of his shaft. Then you took a deep breath and slowly opened your lips, sucking on the tip.

Bucky’s hands gripped the couch even tighter, barely resisting the urge to thrust his hips upwards. You appreciated his restraint, though you couldn’t help but feel for him.

Your name left his lips, like a curse word. “Doll..” You felt one of his hands against your jaw. “Look at me.” Your eyes darted up to his and he really cursed this time. “Fuck, oh fuck. Yes, look at you with my cock in your mouth. So fucking sexy.”

That set you off, attempting to take even more of his length into your mouth as you looked at him. Whatever you couldn’t fit, you stroked with one of your hands, fueled by the drool dripping past your lips. 

You got into a groove, shifting through a pattern of swirling your tongue, sucking long and hard and adding in both fists stroking on and off too. Above you, Bucky seemed to be in a euphoric state. And he couldn’t stop praising you for it, either.

“Jesus Christ, doll. This fucking mouth. So pretty, so fucking pretty with a cock in it. You do this for Stevie too, don’t you? You’ve done it right here on this couch haven’t you?” 

Something about the way Bucky talked about you and Steve really riled you up. You hollowed out your cheeks, looking up at Bucky with wide eyes as you waited for him. After a second you, pulled back and grinned.

“I let him fuck my face right here, Bucky. Do you wanna do that too?” 

Bucky licked his lips and grinned right back, grabbing the side of your head ever so gently and guiding you right back down onto his cock. Then, he did exactly what he wanted. His hips thrusted up quickly, moving in and out of your mouth in record time. You gagged against him as he held you there briefly, then slowed down.

“I’m gonna fuckin’ come, doll,” he fell back against the couch as you took over once more, both hands alternating between massaging his balls and stroking up. You took him back into your mouth, sucking harder as Bucky’s moans grew louder. 

“So close, so fucking..” You pulled back and Bucky grabbed his cock with one hand, steadying your open mouth before him with the other. He growled as he came, hard. You stuck your tongue out, smiling wide as his climax washed over him, unloading onto your tongue and lips. You let it sit there in your mouth for a few extra seconds, keeping eye contact with Bucky as you swallowed it down.

He collapsed against the couch, eyes blown open wide. “Holy fucking shit. Stevie, the mouth on your girl..”

“You can address your compliments to her directly, Buck,” Steve laughed, standing from where he had been sitting in his chair and coming over to help you up. “You might have made his brain malfunction, sweetheart.”

You smiled proudly, meeting Steve’s lips for a kiss. You leaned against him again, tilting your head up to him. “Need you inside me, please?”

“Yeah?” Steve asked. His hand rested against the base of your neck, holding you flush against his chest. “And can Bucky watch?”

You couldn’t help but giggle and nod.

Bucky’s eyes opened slowly, as a smirk grew on his face too. He didn’t even bother cleaning himself up or pulling his pants into place again, simply leaning back and watching carefully as Steve led you over towards his desk. 

Steve took his time, kissing you quite generously as he peeled your dress up towards your waist. You felt him smile against your lips as his hands tugged on your underwear, sliding his fingers towards your center. Just as he had predicted, you had clearly really enjoyed yourself, as your soaked panties indicated.

“I’m gonna slide right in, baby,” he breathed against your neck, swirling his fingers around your clit. “Maybe next time, we do this at the same time. Do you want to try that? Bucky in your mouth while you’re full of me?” 

You groaned, twitching as Steve’s fingers sped up. It wasn’t long until your orgasm approached and soon enough you were quivering in Steve’s arms, ricocheting your way up and down the rollercoaster of senses as Steve turned and pressed you against his desk.

You laid down across it, on your stomach with your ass up in the air. You could feel Steve behind you, shoving your underwear to the side as he freed himself from his own pants. You gripped the edge of the desk as he entered you, slowly at first to make sure you were comfortable and ready. 

Across the room, you watched as Bucky was gripping his own cock, somehow hard again. Steve held onto your hips and thrusted steady, letting out his own series of grunts and moans as he fucked you.

Between your own moaning and Steve’s, you could barely hear Bucky across the room but he said your name out loud. You met his eyes as he was rubbing his shaft.

“You’re incredible, doll. Absolutely fucking incredible. And look at you, taking Steve so well. You like that, huh? Being so fucking full of him?”

With your own orgasm approaching, all you could do was cry out in agreement. Steve growled behind you, speeding up as he gripped your hips even tighter. 

“Look what you did to Bucky, baby,” Steve smacked his hand against your ass, holding you tight against him. “With just your mouth..” 

Bucky smirked, biting his lip as he watched you bounce against the desk. “Gonna let me feel that pussy next time?”

Your climax felt volcanic - a flurry of neurons firing off in your brain as you quivered, safely pressed against the desk as the weight of Steve covered you like a warm blanket. He came right after, growling in your ear as he spilled into you. Steve stayed in place after, as if unable to let go as he caught his breath. 

As you came back down to earth, Steve eventually stood, taking a moment to clean you up before coaxing you back into his desk chair. Yeah, you definitely needed a few more minutes. If you stood, you might fall down like a baby deer. 

You leaned back into the soft leather chair, eyes closed as you grinned. 

Steve kneeled before you, pressing a kiss to the side of your knee as he fixed your skirt. 

“Baby, you okay?” 

You opened your eyes and looked down. He was flush and seemed awfully content. You weren’t sure you had ever seen him smile like that before. 

You bit your lip, resisting your urge to scream with joy. You glanced from Steve over to Bucky. He was still sitting on the couch, though his pants were done up and buckled again. 

“I’m really good. Like, wow. Great. Amazing.”

Bucky laughed from his spot. “Doll, you’re amazing. I..” He sat up a bit straighter. “Best  sidecar I’ve ever had.”

You raised an eyebrow, looking back to Steve again. They were wearing matching grins. You didn’t want to ask. 

“I have worked up an appetite though..” You moved to stand. Steve got to his feet and offered his hand. “How do we feel about milkshakes?”

You collected yourself as Steve and Bucky strategized the best way to sneak out of the club and find a table at your favourite diner. 

There was a shift, though. When Bucky opened the car door for you, exchanging another smirk with Steve. Something in the air felt different.

Despite all that, you wanted to visit his apartment for the first time excited, with butterflies in your stomach. Why did it have to be like this?

When you got to his door, there was a Stark Industries bag hanging off the handle. Bucky paused, then nodded with a hum before scanning his access card to open the door. 

The living spaces at the Tower were pretty basic, and you knew Bucky wasn’t intending on staying there forever, but he somehow managed to make it feel like his home nonetheless. 

A basic kitchen was immediately on your left as you walked in, open directly into the living room - which had a big, comfortable couch covered in a few pillows and blankets. You carefully fell into it, eyes closed. The impact made you wince but you decided it was worth it, given how you sank into the cushions.

“So, what do you want to eat?” Bucky had stopped in the kitchen area, grabbing what looked like a stack of menus from the top of the fridge.

You just shrugged, glancing over at him briefly before closing your eyes. “I’m not really hungry.”

Even though you weren’t looking at him, you could sense the frown on his face.

He sighed out your name. “Didn’t we just learn a lesson about taking those intense pain meds on an empty stomach?” He paused. “Actually, you think about it, I’m going to change...”

You squeezed your eyes even harder, trying to scrub away that recent memory. 

The doctor had been fitting the temporary cast on your hand and wrist just as whatever remaining particles of pain medication seemed to disappear from your bloodstream. That had been enough to make you feel nauseated but then when a nurse came to share some stronger meds with you, Bucky was quick to grab the nearest trash can when they immediately made you throw up. 

Most of it made it into the can, at least.

Now he was probably going to change out of his shirt that had been hit with the rest.

In the few moments of quiet while Bucky was in his bedroom, everything about the last few days hit you all at once. 

Boone. The gym. Your face on the mat. The way he yelled, screamed. Why hadn’t you left? 

Your couch. The growing pain. The purple and yellow and blue bruises. Why didn’t you just walk away?

Bucky.

Bucky at your door, with soup. Bucky with his tender touch. Your hand.

Pepper Potts, her kindness. 

The doctor.

The doctor said something about surgery after seeing your x-ray. Metacarpal break in your hand, down from the ring finger, and a hairline fracture down your wrist.

Pepper had been so kind but what was it she said about a police report? About filing a report with HR? What had she said about taking a break from work?

Bucky, Bucky had been so patient. He hadn’t left your side. But–

How would you ever write again? Could you hold a pen? Would you be able to do your job? Now you wouldn’t have your new role and you’d be shit at your current job, too. How could a nurse function without typing notes or holding a stethoscope or –

Boone. The gym. Your face on the mat. Bucky. Boone. Bucky. Your hand and this cast and this goddamn sling.

In your slurry of thoughts, you hadn’t even realized the tight feeling growing in your chest. Instinctually, you tried to place a hand over your heart and – pain, your wrist. Heaving in deep breaths, it felt as if your lungs couldn’t handle functioning properly.

And your skin - everything felt too hot. You shuffled forward on the couch until you were closer to the floor, dropping to your knees as you tore at your sweatshirt with one hand. It was only halfway zipped up, barely draped over your shoulders, and just so so so hot - were you dripping with sweat?

Could Bucky hear as you called out for him? God, what if he just changed his mind - you were a mess, this wasn’t the person he knew and definitely wasn’t the person he asked out.

How could he be proud of you now?

You tore off your glasses as tears started to fall.

Your name, someone was saying your name. 

Were you under water? It felt like you were under water. Your skin - hot. Your hand, your wrist – pain. 

Boone. 

You collapsed further, bracing yourself on the rug with your free hand. It was strangely soft under your palm. Bucky’s apartment had a soft rug.

Bucky. Bucky was saying your name. 

“Hey, hey. You’re okay.” 

He sounded close, so close. You blinked through your tears and saw he had dropped down beside you on the floor. 

“Sweetheart, can I - can I touch you? Is that okay?”

You nodded, peeking your head up to look at him. Everything was blurry. 

Slowly, he reached out and pressed one hand against your chest, firm. The other was running up and down your back. You listened to him carefully as he talked you through whatever this episode was, breathing in tandem as he applied just enough pressure to your chest and shoulders to really ground you beside him. 

He spoke your name, trying to keep your attention. “Talk to me, please.”

“Bucky - I..” You closed your eyes, sparing a moment to breathe at his pace. His hand pressed against your chest didn’t let up but he helped you lean back against the couch. “I’m scared.. Boone, he.. What if.. My hand..”

“I promise you’re never going to see him again.”

“No, no. I’m not..” Another deep breath. Your heart rate seemed to steady. “I’m not scared of seeing him. I want to.. I want to break his jaw or.. I wasn’t strong enough to even try..” You lifted your arm, tight in the cast and sling. “I won’t even be able to do that. He – I fucked up my hand and I - how can I even do my job or write anything or hold anything or even text? And I - I’ve never had surgery before and I’m - I’m scared something will go wrong and I won’t get to join the med team and I - How can I..” You could feel yourself starting to hyperventilate. “He kept yelling at me to fight back.. Fight back and-and prove myself! I should have – I should have just walked away, I should have–”

You couldn’t quite remember how the shift happened - but you were soon back on the couch, gently turned towards Bucky as he wrapped his arm around you. Time seemed to disappear as you cried into the crook of his shoulder. 

Maybe it wasn’t the most comfortable position as your hand pulsed in pain, but the close feeling, the touch of Bucky, the heat radiating from him - the combination soothed you. 

Bucky seemed to sense the exact moment your heart rate returned back to normal, as he very gently nudged you away just enough to peer down at you. He reached for your glasses and secured them back to where they belonged then offered you a soft smile.

“I don’t want to, uh, invalidate your feelings,” Bucky started then quickly paused. “Christ, I sound like Steve.”

That made you laugh.

“But you’ve gotta know that the doctor who's going to fix your hand will do a damn good job and while maybe you’ll have to take some time off work, you’ll be able to adapt until you fully heal. I promise.” He shifted and grabbed your available hand. “And surgery can be scary but I’ll be there the whole time and wait for you after, okay?”

“You’ll do that?”

Bucky seemed to falter after another moment. “Only if you want me, I don’t want to assume–”

“No, no. I do. I just..” You let out a slow breath. “I.. I’m really grateful to be right here, with you. I’m glad you didn’t leave my apartment earlier, even when I was pushing you out.”

Now he had a chance to laugh. “Yeah, I think we both know I wasn’t going anywhere, sweetheart. Now, you need to eat something. Any requests?”

Half an hour later Bucky was unpacking a delivery bag and handing you a meal and a dose of medication that you had brought home from the clinic. Admittedly, the warm food helped settle you even more and you had a feeling that you’d fall asleep quickly.

The bag hanging from Bucky’s door was full of overnight essentials, including a Stark Industries branded t-shirt and matching sweatpants. You managed to change and brush your teeth with only one hand, then found Bucky waiting for you in the hallway.

“I got my bed set up with extra pillows for you.”

You glanced into his room, then craned your neck to look back towards the living room. A lone pillow and blanket created a makeshift bed on the couch cushions.

Bucky answered the question on your mind: “I’m sleeping on the couch.”

You scrunched your face up. “No.”

“No?” Bucky repeated, raising an eyebrow.

“Even with extra pillows, I think there is definitely room for us both.” You stepped into his room and surveyed the space. Again, although a bit basic and free from any excess, it felt like Bucky lived there. A framed picture of him and Steve lived on his dresser. A basket of unfolded laundry sat outside his closet door. An extra pair of boots leaned up against his bedside table. 

Bucky let out a long breath, saying your name quietly. He shook his head then motioned towards the bed. “Okay.”

It took a few moments to adjust into a position that felt comfortable enough for you. Bucky helped you rearrange some of the pillows before he very cautiously joined you in the bed, doing his best to not create any extra movement to jostle you. 

Silence took over a few moments later, when he reached down and grabbed your left hand. 

You squeezed his palm, speaking through a yawn. “This isn’t how I pictured us sharing a bed for the first time.”

He laughed in return, shifting against his pillow. “Me neither, doll.” 

Then, you heard Bucky move again. And after a sweet mumbling of goodnight, he leaned over and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

--

To say Bucky was reluctant to leave you alone was an understatement. But once you settled into his bed, the pain medication seemed to finally kick in and you were out like a light. He left a small note on the bedside table, near your phone, to let you know he’d be back quickly and to call for FRIDAY if you needed anything. As he slipped into the hallway, secured in a black hoodie, he glanced towards his phone.

Tony’s message had been nondescript, but Bucky understood enough he had information about Boone. Tony insinuated earlier he was already digging into the video footage and how to proceed, but knew Bucky would want to be informed every step of the way.

Not that it mattered - Bucky already had a plan: find Boone then kill him.

Okay, no, no. Bucky couldn’t kill him. He’d never take a life like that again but… well, he had already considered a thousand different scenarios that left Boone to deal with the consequences of his actions. 

Bucky cracked his neck as he got into the elevator, shooting up to Tony’s lab. He stepped out directly into the space, following the echo of Tony’s voice somewhere inside. Bucky found him standing behind one of his workstations, hands flying around as he swiped at the screens illuminated ahead.

Tony paused, pivoting slightly as he shuffled a few things around on his desk. He leaned towards the end of his workspace, hooked his foot on the bottom of a wheeled chair and slid it in Bucky’s direction.

“How is she?” Tony asked, perching on the side of his workstation as Bucky sat.

Bucky shook his head. How could he even answer that? “Finally sleeping.”

“I hope they gave her the good stuff.” Tony’s fingers tapped against the side of the desk. “You know, Dr. Alvarez told me your girl must have a high pain tolerance given the severity of that break.” Before Bucky even had a chance to defend your non-relationship status, Tony carried on. “But Barnes - she’s tough, really tough. Look.”

Bucky turned his head to the screens, as a series of video captures started playing on the screen. It was footage of you - from the training gym, during all your sessions the week prior. 

Tough didn’t seem like enough. You were strategic and resilient and smart. Sure, maybe you needed to work on your pace and Bucky could certainly give you some pointers when it came to aim, he was still impressed.

“Here’s the thing.” Tony paused the footage. “When this incident happened– listen, I know incident isn’t the right word here. But when it happened, someone retroactively cut out some security footage.” He shifted his hand and tapped the screen again. “I just recovered it. And I am looking into how that imbecile managed to bypass the admin code for the security logs.”

“Did you watch it?” Bucky held his breath, tearing his eyes from the screen back towards Tony who shook his head. 

“Not yet.”

Bucky flicked his hand to the screen, to signal for Tony to show him. Bucky stood from his chair and crossed his arms once the video started.

As he watched, the anger flared up in Bucky almost instantly. Just seeing you alone with Boone in the gym made his stomach drop but when Boone shoved you down, Bucky growled.

The footage didn’t have any audio, though Bucky had a feeling that if he could also hear whatever Boone had been shouting at you, he’d be trashing Tony’s lab just to deal with his frustration. 

At first, everything seemed normal enough. Bucky sucked in a breath when Boone pulled off your glasses. His fist clenched tightly when Boone pushed you down to your knees. When Boone’s hand touched your head…

“Good for her,” Tony muttered out when you quickly started to fight back. 

When Boone escalated things though - as your face dragged against the mat, as he pulled at your arms, how he followed up as you tried to crawl away, as he clearly shouted and stomped his feet down on your hand, Bucky couldn’t help but boil over. He let out another growl and grabbed a nearby stool, snapping it over his knee.

He dropped the wooden shards to the ground, apologizing to Tony before requesting he turn off the video.

“Listen,” Tony raised his hands, as if to forgive Bucky for the outburst. “I can’t put Pepper through the PR nightmare if you kill this guy.”

“I’m not going to..” Bucky sucked in a breath. Well, he wasn’t going to speak in absolutes or promises. He could barely see past the red in his eyes, there was no point in lying.

Tony let out a small yelp. “Oh, hold on. Let’s..” He dropped back down onto a rolling chair and moved towards one of his computer screens. “FRIDAY, let’s pull up the last 6th months of data for Agent Nathan Boone. Every swipe in, hour worked, blah blah blah. You know the drill.”

Bucky tried to follow Tony’s thought process, crossing his arms as he watched the screens compile different information.

“When does he usually go to the gym?” Tony asked, swiping ahead of him as he scanned over the data.

FRIDAY’s lilt echoed above them. “Agent Boone, on average, visits the gym every day he is on schedule. He first enters usually between 6 and 6:07AM.”

Tony nodded. “Okay, and when was the last time we did diagnostics on the gym security system?”

“Well, boss, this system doesn’t require regular diagnostics due to the software protection.”

“Right. Then it sounds like we’re due.” Tony shot a glance over his shoulder to meet Bucky’s gaze. “Let’s run it in the morning, around 6AM. Full system shut down - including cameras - for half an hour?”

Bucky grunted. “Make it an hour.”

--

 Following his visit to Tony’s lab, which actually concluded with sharing a glass of whiskey, Bucky made a plan. 

He returned to his apartment and bed, where he luckily found you still sleeping soundly. When you both stirred awake a few hours later, just shy of sunrise, Bucky encouraged you to stay in bed while he hit the gym.

You barely argued as your eyes fluttered shut again, wincing only slightly as you adjusted on the bed. Bucky promised to return with breakfast when he was done.

Then, he headed to the gym. He discovered easily how effective a piece of paper could be at deterring people from entering. One well placed ‘Closed for cleaning’ sign and a locked door kept anyone else from accessing the space after Bucky watched Boone enter.

A thousand scenarios flashed through Bucky’s mind when he saw Boone. On top of the flood of thoughts he wrestled with all night long, Bucky was simply itching to rearrange Boone’s entire dumb fucking face.

But, no. No. He had a plan.

Bucky rolled his head slightly, cracked his knuckles, then headed towards the weight area. It wasn’t hard to find Boone, given he was the only other person in the space. That and he was already proving himself obnoxious - blasting music from his phone instead of using headphones.

“Boone.” Bucky approached slowly. Boone looked up as he did, shifting slightly as he sat on the bench and giving Bucky a small nod.

“What’s up, Sarge?” Boone replied. “I guess you and I are the only early birds today. Usually a few more in here. Though with some of these new recruits, I guess I’m not surprised they don’t give a shit about training.

Bucky sucked in a breath before motioning to the weight rack behind Boone as he set up a bench press. “You need a spot?”

Boone shrugged. “Sure.”

“This your warm up?” Bucky smirked, tapping against the plates resting on the bar. “You’ve gotta be doing more than that these days. Cap told me he’s been impressed by your bulking.”

Boone let out a stiff laugh. “I hit a new max rep last week, actually. I realize that’s nothing compared to you and Cap .”

“C’mon then.” Bucky leaned forward and slapped Boone’s shoulder. “Let’s see what you can do.”

Boone stood up on impact, skepticism evident on his face before he sat again. But, he didn’t falter. “Sure.”

Bucky walked over to the weight rack and grabbed two additional heavy plates, sliding them on as Boone laid down and got into position. 

“Speaking of new recruits.” Bucky bristled as he tried to make convincing small talk with Boone and his dumb fucking face. If Boone thought it was out of character, he didn’t mention it. “How’d training go last week?”

Boone laughed, stretching his arms up to brace the bar. “Yeah, it went fine. Most of them passed. That’s on par with the recent cohorts. Usually one or two bail out.”

“Oh yeah?” Bucky crossed his arms, doing everything in his power to reign himself in. 

“Makes sense. Most people aren’t ready - some will never be–” Boone pressed upwards, inhaling a sharp breath as he lifted the bar.

“Too much?” Bucky took half a step backwards.

“No, no.” Boone carried on, barely moving the bar up off the rack. “I’ve got it.” His arms fully extended, as the weight bar swayed slightly between his arms before he positioned it back in place.

Bucky returned to the weight rack and grabbed two more plates. “Nice. You got more in you?”

Boone hesitated, looking backwards to meet Bucky’s gaze. He nodded. “Absolutely.”

Once the new weights were settled, Bucky stood above him again. 

“Hey.” Bucky closed his eyes, moving to the side of the bench to peer down at Boone. Bucky said your name. “She was training with you last week, right?”

Boone froze momentarily then blinked. “Uh, yeah. I remember her.”

“Between you and me - how’d she do?” Bucky rested his hands underneath the bar, temporarily alleviating some of the weight as Boone pressed upwards again. “Do you think she was ready?”

Boone closed his eyes to focus on his lift. “Between you and me,” he echoed to Bucky. “That dumb broad will never be ready.”

A searing heat coursed through Bucky as he released his hands, stepping back as the overweight bar slammed down on Boone’s chest. Boone roared out in pain, whimpering as the entire barbell rolled down onto his throat. As his arms flailed at his side, trying and failing to push it away, Boone tried to call out for Bucky’s help.

Though his anger remained, watching Boone struggle was still enjoyable. And although Bucky would have been happy to see the barbell crush Boone’s windpipe, he eventually did step forward and reach for the weights.

With his left arm, Bucky removed the bar and threw the entire thing to the side. With his right hand, he yanked Boone up off the bench onto his feet.

“Did you forget how to spot me? The fuck?” Boone shouted, eyes widening as he rubbed at his throat. He swung his arm forward and pushed against Bucky’s chest.  “I could have fucking–”

Bucky snarled, shoving Boone back the same way - sending him into the rack holding the weights. Boone bounced off the structure and tumbled to the side, wincing in pain as Bucky stalked after him. “Why don’t you fight back?”

“Barnes, you’re out of your mind. What the fuck–”

“Fight back.” Bucky advanced closer, looming over Boone as he scuttled backwards on the floor.  “Prove yourself.” It was clear to Bucky that reference hit Boone directly. Although he couldn’t bring himself to snap back, Boone’s face grew red. An extra bead of sweat dripped down from his forehead, as he pressed against the wall.

Bucky crouched down, grabbing Boone’s jaw between his metal fingers. “What the fuck is wrong with you, huh?” Bucky said your name slowly. Boone’s eyes briefly widened. “What do you get out of beating up an agent?” 

“I didn’t–” Boone tried to shake his head. “Is she your little girlfriend or something? Listen, I wouldn’t have – I didn’t know she – What did she say–”

“It doesn’t fucking matter if she’s anyone girlfriend, you piece of shit.” Bucky grabbed him by the throat and pulled him back up to his feet, sparing a moment to spit in Boone’s face before he made his next move. Bucky dropped his hand and took one step back, stretching his arms ahead of himself before letting out a growl. “Fight back, Agent Boone. Prove. Yourself.”

--

Despite your nicely medicated sleep in Bucky’s bed, you were tired. And talking to a lawyer and Pepper and HR and a member of the NYPD police, Officer Reyes, about the entire situation again definitely contributed to your exhaustion. 

You were even on your second coffee but it didn’t seem to be helping. Bucky was practically holding you up as he sat at your side. You were in the medical wing at the tower, going through everything you needed before surgery. It had been scheduled quickly - probably at Tony’s request, given his relationship with Dr. Alvarez. And although you didn’t really want to think about the gravity of having surgery, you couldn’t help but look forward to the healing process. You wanted this all to be over already.

“That’s everything we need. You’re prepared for tomorrow. Start fasting at midnight!” 

You thanked your coworker, Jillian, for being a wonderful nurse and securing you back into your sling. Bucky helped you to stand, giving you a once over to make sure you were okay. 

Bucky had been quiet all morning. That wasn’t particularly out of character, but he seemed tense. You didn’t always see every side of him as friends and now with all this - things were shifting. You didn’t mind it, though. You welcomed it, especially after waking up in his bed and relishing in the sense of security that he was at your side.

“Hey Bucky?” You stopped him once you were outside the doors, heading in the direction of the elevators. 

He immediately frowned, searching your face as he turned to face you. “Are you okay?”

“Yes.” You offered him a reassuring smile. “But are you?”

“Don’t worry about me, sweetheart.”

You rolled your eyes, extending your good hand to grab his. “If you can worry about me, you must know I worry about you too. Can’t help it.”

Bucky cracked a reluctant smile. “Okay. Well, try not to worry about me right now then, okay? You’ve got enough on your plate.”

Before you could hit him back with another defensive rebuttal, you were interrupted by your name being called down the hallway. It was Pepper and Officer Reyes, again.

You drew in a hard breath, relaxing a tiny bit when you felt Bucky squeeze your hand. He hadn’t let go, and it seemed he didn’t plan to. When the officer asked to speak with you, Bucky took the lead and guided you into the nearest consultation room to have the conversation privately.

Pepper opted to wait outside but Bucky joined you, arms crossed in front of the door while you sat opposite the officer.

You really liked Officer Reyes. She was patient, direct, and took her job very seriously. And right now, that meant dealing with Boone.

“Just to give you a fair update,” she started, folding her hands together on top of the table. “We had the arrest warrant prepared and although he swiped in for work and into the gym this morning, we actually found Nathan Boone at his apartment downtown. He came willingly. In fact, it seemed he was waiting for us. He’s been charged with assault in the third degree and you’ll be happy to know he pled guilty.” 

You sat back in your chair, a sense of relief flooding through you. Although you knew there was video footage and physical proof of Boone’s attack, you still had doubts the judicial system would work in your favour. 

“So, is that it?” You asked cautiously. 

Reyes nodded. “From you? Pretty much.” She tipped her head sideways briefly, considering. “I shouldn’t mention this, but given the circumstances, it must be some sort of karmic payback. Nathan Boone was in bad shape when we found him - the guy will probably need some medical attention himself. We asked him about his injuries but he had nothing to say. Fell down the stairs, so he says.”

“Bad shape?” You couldn’t help but ask. You didn’t have any sympathy for Boone but the curiosity surfaced. 

“I have a feeling he’ll have to squeeze in some x-rays and a visit to a dental surgeon in between his court dates.” Reyes stood and offered her hand, giving you a small smile. “I’ll be in touch if we have any loose ends.”

After she left, you remained in your chair, quiet for a moment before you motioned for Bucky to sit. He was sitting after one swift stride, locking eyes with you.

You started slowly. “I meant to ask. How was your workout this morning?”

Bucky was straight faced, matching your pose across the table. “Good.” 

“Nothing else to share?” You pressed, raising an eyebrow. 

“I always like to have a plan when I go to the gym and this morning, I did exactly what I planned on doing.”

You nodded then leaned back in your chair. You knew you could ask exactly what you wanted and he'd tell you the truth. But maybe it was better left unsaid. If you didn’t ask, he didn’t have to explain himself either. But, that didn’t make the entire thing any less of an internal debate.

Why did you care even a little tiny bit about Boone being injured? 

It wasn’t even about Boone. 

It was about someone inflicting pain on your behalf. But, wait. Then again – was there any chance Boone was feeling guilty for his actions? Fueled by his fucked up testosterone levels and short fuse? Why did you have to wrestle with your conscience when he didn’t show even an ounce of remorse for what he did? 

If Bucky had chosen to defend you, to wrestle with Boone instead… Well, maybe that was what needed to happen. 

You remained in a staring contest with Bucky, searching his face for anything. You could see something just behind his lips, a desire to say something else. Maybe he was worried he would upset you with the whole truth about what happened at the gym. If that was the case, you also knew Bucky wouldn’t apologize for what he might have done to Boone.

Bucky was strong willed. He stood up for what he believed in. He’d never want to see injustice or unfair behaviour being excused. 

You sighed then nodded again. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Bucky repeated slowly, tilting his head. “Sweetheart, I—”

“No. It’s okay.” You cracked a small smile. “Bucky, I—thank you. For last night and for not leaving my side and taking care of me, protecting me.. for everything.”

He said your name quietly, reaching across the table for your free hand. “It’s an honour.”

You sucked in a breath, blinking away the feeling of crying again.  “Don’t do that – don’t be cheesy. I won’t survive.”

Bucky just smiled.

--

Somehow an hour long surgery seemed like a lifetime to Bucky. He glanced at his phone to check the time again and let out a long breath, slumping down just a bit further in his chair. Despite your exhaustion, you had barely slept the night before and Bucky felt helpless, even with all his efforts to calm your nerves.

“I’m a nurse, Bucky. I’ve helped so many patients before and after surgeries and I’m still just – I want this to be over.”

Bucky knew you were okay, in the best hands Tony could pay for, but he was still desperate to see you roll back down the hallway, safe and sound.

After another chance to take some breaths and repeat a few of his safe mantras, Bucky looked at his phone. Instead of seeing the time, he saw ‘Sam Wilson’ popping up on his phone.

It had been a very easy task for Bucky - ignoring Sam for the past 48 hours. It was petty, childish even, but he still didn’t want to talk to Sam. Bucky was still sitting in an uncomfortable swell of anger over the whole situation. A situation that could be traced right back to Sam, in a way.

Bucky closed his eyes and finally brought the phone up to his ear when Sam called back again. He stood from his chair and started down the empty hallway.

“This is Sergeant Barnes.”

Sam immediately scoffed on the other end of the line. “Thanks for finally picking up.”

Bucky just grunted. “What do you want?”

“I want you to say out loud what’s bothering you so we can move past this.” 

Silence fell between them before Bucky finally replied again. “You put him in charge, Sam.”

“I have a lot of fucking regrets about that, Bucky.”

Bucky couldn’t help but wince when he heard Sam swear. In the field, Sam certainly had a mouth at times. But during the day to day operations of the job, back in the office, he was usually well restrained. Clearly, he was out of sorts, too.

“And I heard someone already went and put Boone in his place. There is only so much I can apologize for when that jackass cheated the system and misled me. Boone broke my trust and I can get over that. But I am fucking gutted I broke her trust. This never should have happened. I know that.”

“I know you know. I..” Bucky closed his eyes, pausing to rest against the nearest wall. Eventually, he left out a quiet laugh. “I don’t know what to do with my leftover anger, Sam.”

“You and me both, man. At least you got to crack him in the jaw a few times. Wish I could have been there.”

Bucky sighed. “I’ll tell you all about it in great detail. I owe you a beer, alright?”

“Whenever you’re ready to leave your girl's side, pencil me in.”

After he hung up with Sam, then exchanged a few messages with Steve, Bucky resumed his position of waiting for you outside the entrance to the surgical suites. He tried distracting himself with a few reports he had to go over and listened to a few tracks on a new playlist from Natasha. Eventually though, all he could do was stare at the door and be patient.

Soon enough, a nurse appeared at the door and signaled to Bucky he could come through. He was directed to a recovery area and finally, he could feel his shoulders relax. There you were - safe and sound. 

Bucky pulled up a chair beside your hospital bed, greeting you with a smile as you looked towards him. 

“Bucky!”

“Hey doll.” 

“She’s still coming back from the general anesthesia. She might be a bit out of sorts still,” the nurse confirmed, giving you another once over. “The doctor said everything went well and the office will be in touch about follow up appointments.” The nurse paused, giving Bucky a coy smile as she walked away. “She immediately asked for you when she started coming to - Sergeant Handsome.”

“I said that was a private nickname,” you whined, closing your eyes tightly. You tried to push yourself up slightly to sit, but were quickly stopped by your immobilized arm. “Ow.”

“Let me help,” Bucky stood up and adjusted the bed so you could sit up more. 

You turned to look towards him. “Hi.”

“Hi.” Bucky scooted his chair closer and sat again. “You feelin’ okay?”

You nodded. “Just a lil’froggy.. Foggy..”

“So, Sergeant Handsome? Were you talkin’ about me?” Bucky couldn’t help the smile on his face as you closed your eyes. Though it fell just as quickly when you frowned. “What’s wrong?”

“Can I - can I tell you a secret?” You kept your eyes closed, letting out a slow exhale as you settled against the pillows propping you up. 

“Sure, doll.”

“Actually, no, no.” Your eyes shot open, narrowing again as you locked eyes with Bucky. “This hasta be a secret exchange.”

“A secret exchange?”

You licked your lips then used your good hand to point at him. “You tell me one first, then I tell you one. It’s fair.”

“I mean, you started this whole thing,” he laughed, then decided it was probably best to play along. The medication was clearly still making you a bit loopy and the last thing Bucky wanted to do was upset you any further in this state. “Okay. Let’s see.” He paused again then shrugged. “I met my nephew a few weeks ago.”

“Bucky! Oh, oh wow. That’s..” You reached for his closest hand and he met you in the middle. You squeezed his fingers but didn’t let go after. “I’m gonna cry - I’m so happy for you. When I.. I’m back to normal, I wanna hear all about it. Okay?”

“I can’t wait to tell you, sweetheart.” Bucky cradled your hand in his, rubbing his thumb against your skin. “Now, it’s your turn.”

You sucked in a breath and closed your eyes once more. “I’m.. I’m really sad we aren’t gonna have our date.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow. “Who said we aren’t having our date?”

“We’re suppos’ta celebrate my new position and..” You shook your head. “Look’at me now.. No new job and-and a broken whatever–” You tried to move your casted arm and just winced, which quickly transformed into a yawn. “Who wants to date this..”

Bucky released your hand from his and leaned forward, bringing his palm up to cup your cheek. Exhaustion seemed to catch up with you as you fell back asleep.  “I promise we’re going on that date.” 

--

The first few days following your surgery were painful, as you probably should have anticipated. You insisted Bucky didn’t need to stay at your side the whole time - in fact, you knew he had work to do and an upcoming mission to plan for. Thankfully you had a few close friends in rotation who kept you company throughout your days and somehow an endless supply of credit with your favourite food delivery app, making your life a lot easier. (You assumed you had Tony to thank for that.)

You and Bucky still talked all day long. That made dealing with the pain a lot easier, too.

You: are you doing anything after work? You: if you’re free You: you could come over? Bucky: be there by 7 :)

“It’s going to leave quite the scar, unfortunately.” Your check up with Dr. Alvarez had downgraded you to a removable splint, which you were really relieved about. You were perfectly capable of handling the care yourself and it was nice to release the pressure on your hand.

You had taken the splint off to show Bucky when he showed up. You were sitting beside him on your small loveseat, catching up about your last few days. He was holding your hand gently in his own, tracing his finger lightly over your skin. 

Somehow, by some weird trick of your mind, it seemed like the pain had already become easier to tolerate. Like Bucky’s touch was helping settle your nerves and discomfort.

“Tony has this thing… it could help with that,” Bucky finally responded, his voice barely audible. “The scarring. I don’t know how it works but it can build synthetic tissue and..”

You smiled when Bucky looked back up at you. “Yeah, maybe.” It was clear Bucky was holding something back but you didn’t want to press. “Okay, I have a confession. I invited you here because I need help with something.”

He nodded. “Sure. Whatever you need. What is it?”

It was another unconventional first for you and Bucky and your new whatever relationship status. You had visions of a sexy steamed bathroom, shared laughter and maybe slippery hands and low moans and… This wasn’t how your first shower together was supposed to go.

You chewed on your lip as you tried to figure out the logistics. You had a semi-normal shower the other day, but it had been incredibly difficult if not impossible to get any soap or shampoo where it needed to go with an immobilized arm. Even now, without the splint, you barely had any range of motion in your hand. Plus you were supposed to be taking it easy.

“Okay, so. Let’s…” You turned towards the shower then back towards Bucky, who was standing only a few inches from you - thanks to your tiny New York City apartment bathroom. “I’ll be in the shower. Uhm, naked. Then when I need soap or shampoo or… whatever, I’ll stick my good hand out and you can give it to me.”

Bucky stifled his laughter. “Sure. I can… give you whatever you need, doll.”

“Bucky,” you whined, doing your best not to laugh along with him. “Don’t, please. I know this is weird.”

“I’m sorry,” he immediately sobered up. “I’ll, just..” He turned to face the door, away from you, as you stripped down and got into the shower. “Tell me when I should turn around?”

It wasn’t a very graceful process but it worked. Bucky was very polite and helpful with everything you needed. Truthfully, it would have been better to have him in the shower with you but you just weren’t there yet. Beyond sleeping side by side and cuddling on the couch, nothing further had happened between you. And well, that was expected - given everything. But your stupid injury really was getting in the way.

“Okay, just, uhm - my towel?” You turned off the water and reached out, feeling the fluffy fabric right away. You did your best to wrap it around your body then drew the curtain open again. Bucky was waiting for you, eyes closed tightly but with an extended hand to help you step carefully over the tub. 

“Thank you,” you said quietly. “You can open your eyes - I’m covered.”

“Feel better?” He asked as he opened his eyes, offering you one of those soft, sweet Bucky looks you were coming to really appreciate and love. 

God, you didn’t want to fuck this up. 

“Here, let me..” Bucky took your injured hand and carefully fixed your splint back into place. Then, well, he filled in the small space between you both. 

You sucked in a breath as he positioned his forehead against yours, beads of water and condensation sticking to his skin. “Thank you,” you repeated, though you wondered if it was even audible.

He kept one hand safely holding your injured wrist while his other found a spot on your hip. He whispered your name with just enough inflexion for you to understand his unspoken question. As soon as you tipped your head into a nod, his hand left your hip and was encompassing the side of your neck, thumb running against your jawline.

Your tongue swept across your lips. “ Yes.”

Bucky’s lips met yours, gentle and rough and exactly what you imagined kissing Bucky might be like. A bolt of electricity surged through you, across every nerve. It was the perfect balm to forget about your wrist, about uncertainty, about anything but Bucky.

--

Although you knew you were returning to work on a modified schedule and task list, you had still been nervous about it. Especially because you didn’t know what everyone else knew about Boone and you and what had happened. But luckily you were welcomed back to cheerful coworkers and a very light workload.

And no one mentioned Boone or your injury. You did have to catch on newly updated mandatory company wide training though, directly related to substance abuse and security protocols. 

You got used to working with only one hand, which would still be the case for a few more weeks. But otherwise, things felt okay. And by the time your meal break rolled around, you couldn’t help but feel giddy about being back at the tower. Because you had a lunch date with your boyfriend.

Your boyfriend Bucky Barnes. 

Not that having lunch with Bucky was new, but now it felt like so much more. Every single milestone in your relationship so far had been abnormal but this - this was perfectly ordinary. Although calling him your boyfriend still felt a little foreign on your tongue, you didn’t mind that change. 

When you spotted Bucky in the cafeteria, your knees nearly gave out altogether. You couldn’t help but grin when he stood to greet you, holding a bouquet of flowers in one hand. With the other he pulled you in for a hug, followed by a kiss on the forehead.

“Hi,” you said, using your freehand to brush against some of the petals. “This is unexpected.”

Bucky smiled, taking the seat across from you. “I was going to hand deliver them down to the med floor but I figured you might be a bit overwhelmed this morning. And maybe Sergeant Handsome would distract you from important work.”

You rolled your eyes, though it was impossible to hide your giddiness and fight off your warm cheeks. “You’ve gotta let that one go, please.”

“Absolutely not.” Bucky shook his head, still smiling. God, would you two ever stop smiling? There was something incredibly comforting about knowing Bucky was feeling just as wild as you were when it came to all these kinds of feelings.

Ever since he kissed you - when you were sopping wet and injured and a mess, all wrapped up into a towel - things had just been heightened. Not that everything had been smooth sailing, especially when it came to your pain and this recovery process, but going through all of it with Bucky was exactly what you needed.

Every time you struggled or hit a new roadblock, he let you have a moment to react then he simply cheered you through it. “You can do hard things,” he would echo back to you time and time again. (Which was particularly annoying sometimes, like when you were on your first official date and couldn’t twirl your pasta very well.)

As you were approaching the end of your lunch break, sharing a dessert with Bucky, you sighed. “Can I just say something out loud?” 

Bucky nodded. “Of course.”

“I just…” You reached to adjust your glasses as you found your words. “..can’t help but think about how right now I should be preparing to be on the field team and maybe even going out on missions to help and.. I’m just disappointed.” 

Bucky put down his fork, churning through his own thoughts before he replied.

You continued. “I mean, I guess there’s no way of knowing if I would have even passed the evaluation though. Seeing as I never even… it’s likely I might not have been ready. Maybe I’ll never be ready for it now. I have to start from scratch with this—” You held up your wrist. “I can’t even do the boring parts of my regular job with one hand. I have to do the extra boring stuff instead. I.. I’m just whining. I’m sorry.”

“Do you have to get back right away?” Bucky asked, grabbing his phone. He sent a quick message then stood, extending his hand out for you to grab. “Let me show you something.”

Your manager had told you to ‘take it easy’ your first week back, so running late from lunch probably wouldn’t be a problem. So, you grabbed Bucky’s hand and followed. 

The upper floors of the tower weren’t somewhere you had ever visited before. You shot up the elevator and nearly let out a gasp when you and Bucky arrived in Tony’s lab. It was huge - with bright lights, big windows and plenty of flashing screens. 

“Stark?” Bucky called out, keeping his hand tethered to yours as he guided you through the space. 

“Over here,” Tony called back, popping out from behind a screen. “It’s all loaded up. I’ve gotta run to meet Pepper and some very irritated investors but I’ve granted you full access to the video footage.” He turned towards you. “How’s the hand?”

You tried to give him a thumbs up. You winced. “Getting there.”

“I’ve got a good therapist - physical therapist, that is. No one can help this brain.” Tony tapped his temple. “I’ll send you his details.” 

Just as quickly as you arrived, Tony departed, giving one last pointed look at Bucky before he disappeared into the elevator muttering into his wrist. 

“Sit,” Bucky instructed, pulling a chair and positioning it in front of the screen. “Please.”

You let out a dramatic sigh before complying. 

Bucky sat in another chair at your side, picking up a nearby tablet. With a swipe of his hand, video footage appeared on the screen ahead. It started to play. 

It was footage of you - giving your all during your training sessions. From the sparring drills to physical challenges, you kept up and even performed better than some of the others. 

You snuck a glance towards Bucky, who was watching the footage with what could only be described as a proud smile. 

“You’re resilient, sweetheart,” Bucky said quietly, turning his head. “Although I could offer you some tips, you woulda past Sam’s eval - there’s no doubt in my mind.”

“Tips? Like what?” You couldn’t help yourself from smirking. “You wanna throw down on a gym mat?”

“Preferably a mattress, actually,” he muttered, raising an eyebrow as he paused the video. “Well, right there - you could have—” 

“Okay, I don’t need a play by play.” You nodded and let out a slow exhale. “I get it. I’m capable. I just have to.. get back to that.”

Bucky turned back to you again. “You’ll get there. I’ll help. I can be your personal trainer.”

“Okay.” You leaned over and pressed a kiss to his lips. “Now, about that mattress.”

--

 ONE YEAR LATER

Three months. It had been three months since you were officially on the field medical team. The job hadn’t been easy or soft - especially the first time you were dealing with bullet wounds in the middle of nowhere. 

The med team was a tight knit group though - you had joined a new training group following many months of recovery and training and luckily found a wonderful team of colleagues. Not only that, your time supporting major Avengers missions had been an incredible, and daunting, experience.

But today, three months in, you were finally on a mission with your boyfriend. Bucky’s speciality was covert ops and most of his missions were small-scale and secretive, with only a select team of Avengers involved. But this particular mission was a bit different - with the medical team joining later as things had escalated.

After everything had settled, including a few injured civilians who were assisted and transported for further care, everyone had returned to the jets with a long flight home ahead. You found a spot on the jet with Bucky, Sam, Steve and a few others. 

“Agent! Medical attention is needed over here.” 

You whipped your head around, searching for Steve and where his voice was coming from. You took a few strides forward, pausing as the jet started to take off. You found Steve sitting near the back with Bucky.

“This man is dying of a broken heart, apparently,” Steve rolled his eyes, pushing off from his leaning position and patting Bucky on the shoulder. “Good luck.”

You just sighed but couldn’t help smiling. You grabbed Steve’s arm before he got too far away. “Want me to clean that up?” You pointed to a small cut near his hairline.

Steve waved his hand. “Thank you but it’ll be fine by morning.” He gave you another smirk before heading to sit with Sam in the cockpit.

“What’s wrong with you, Sergeant Handsome?” You smiled at Bucky as you stood in front of him.

He reached out to place his hands on your hips, slotting you just between his legs as he sat. “Two hours with you and not even a kiss yet.”

“Oh my god,” you swatted his shoulder. “I was helping people. Your knives were flying all over the place. When was the optimal time for that?”

He replied with an exaggerated eye roll. “Alright, fine.” He extended his hand up to cradle your jaw, pulling you down to meet his lips. 

“Better?” You asked, shifting to take the seat beside him. 

“Much.” He nodded, turning enough to get a better look at you. “How are you doing though? I know today is–”

“I meant what I said the other night,” you cut him off. “Seriously.”

You knew Boone was getting out of jail after serving a year, which admittedly was the best sentencing you could have hoped for. Not that it really made up for his indiscretions but you knew you’d never see him again anyway. You didn’t want to waste anymore of your energy or time on him ever again.

“Forgetting he exists is only one thing. You know I can make sure he actually ceases existing and–”

“Bucky,” you laughed, shaking your head. “I’m good. Truly.”

You lifted your right hand to stretch your fingers, taking a moment to admire the fancy glove Tony had designed for you. It was reinforced with something that gave you even more support when out in the field. You were grateful for it, though your rehabilitation had been successful. Slowly you pulled it off your hand, pausing to stare at the lines on your skin. All that remained was an occasional ache and some fading scars.

Out of the corner of your eye you saw Bucky raising his right hand and you grinned. You knocked your knuckles into his twice then wiggled your fingers at one another. Before you could pull back, Bucky gently grabbed your hand and moved it closer, pressing a soft kiss against your scarred knuckles.

Maybe you were left with a few fading scars. And maybe every single step along the way hadn’t been easy. 

But you had Bucky by your side. Bucky, who you found unintentionally, whose touch filled you with life. 

Luckily, the handsome blond was not behind the desk. An eager young teenager named Peter helped you out, then said someone would bring your tire out.

You stood outside your car, waiting to open the hatch. In your pocket, you could hear your phone buzzing occasionally. Likely just follow-up texts from your mother about when you were heading to her house.

Across the parking lot, a side door to the garage opened. Holding your tire with one hand, like it weighed nothing, was an alarmingly attractive man. You blinked a few times as he walked towards you, momentarily distracted and confused because how was he real? Did this shop have a policy about only hiring male models?

Maybe you were going to cry again – because you got to see Adonis in a full jumpsuit. You really needed to get it together.

He didn’t say anything as he walked towards you, though you did hurry to open the back of your car, so he’d have somewhere to put the tire.

“Thank you,” you mumbled out as he placed it in. Once his hands were free again, he took a step back, tilting his head to look at your car.

“You need new tires,” he said simply, stepping to the side to look at your front end.

“Yes, that’s why I got—”

“All your tires. The tread here is practically gone. It’s not safe. One rainstorm and you’ll be sliding out.”

“My budget kind of only permits one car emergency every few months..”

“Steve said you told him you have someone who can install your new tire?”

Ah, Steve. The polite gentleman who handed you a tissue earlier.

“Yes, my mom’s husband. He’s a car guy but obviously couldn’t seal the rim to the tire so..”

“Well, tell your stepdad he should move your back tires to the front and put the new one on the back instead.”

“Not my stepdad,” you interjected, following the man around your car. He was crouched down and feeling the tread on your back tires. “Sure, yeah, he married my mom, but the dude has only been around for a few years and certainly never parented me. So, he retains the title of my mother’s husband out of politeness when truthfully, I’d rather just call him the piece of shit who drinks too much.” You let out a long breath, closing your eyes. “Sorry, that was.. I will let him know. Thanks for the advice.”

The man stood up again, sweeping a hand through his hair before he walked towards the front of your car again. “Your bumper is barely hanging on.”

“Yes, well, that’s also not in my budget. My insurance company made me go to that godawful place on Roosevelt to get it fixed after an accident and I swear they put it on wrong but when I went back there they blamed me and quoted me another 2k to fix it. So. That duct tape solution is gonna have to do.”

You almost missed it, but the man’s jaw ticked slightly. Then, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card. “Listen, if the ‘piece of shit who drinks too much’ can’t put that tire on, bring it back here, and we’ll do it. Or if you want a new quote for this.” He tapped your bumper with his boot. It shook probably too much. “It won’t cost two grand, I promise.”

“Well, thanks..” You finally looked at his jumpsuit, where a name was embroidered across his chest. “..Bucky. That’s a nice offer. But every time I go anywhere with my car, some know-it-all man has something condescending to me and I never know if I can trust them.”

“You can trust me.” His reply was so simple and earnest. Admittedly, there was something about him and his coworkers inside that made you feel like perhaps they weren’t trying to hose you for all your money. “Here.” He handed you his business card, where he had scrawled out a phone number on the back. Then, he nodded and turned to head back to the garage.

“Bucky?” You called after him, taking a step forward. “Thanks. And also, tell your coworker thank you too. He was very patient when I was crying this morning.”

The corners of Bucky’s mouth curved upwards into a small smirk. “I will let him know. Have a good day.”

–

“Well, it’s not my fuckin’ fault you turned down the same highway you always do and seemed to forget how to drive.”

You didn’t want to cry again, and yet…

“The game just started. I can’t leave. I’ve got a huge stack riding on this.”

With a steady voice, you tried to reason. “Billy, please. Both the tow truck places I called can’t make it for hours and—“

“I’m not sure what you expect me to do about this?”

You wish you had been fast enough to tell him off before he hung up on you. Fuck. Sure, you and Billy weren’t dating - this was a situationship at best, though you knew he’d describe it simply as ‘occasional fuck buddies’ or maybe ‘friends with benefits’. 

But even friends wasn’t an accurate term. 

Because surely a friend would at least help you out when you slid off the road in the rain in the middle of fucking nowhere. Were you that naive to think he actually cared enough to help you when you were in distress?

You grumbled and smacked your steering wheel. Your cousin Leo wasn’t much help either but you gave him some grace at least. He was working and recommended a tow truck company. That didn’t work out but he did more for you in a few texts than anything Billy said. 

Letting out a frustrated groan, you dropped your phone into the passenger seat and gave yourself a few moments to just breathe. You were safe, you were dry. You could figure this out. Sure, it was raining, and you had skidded off the road – just like the guy at the shop said. And now you were stuck, but at least you were somewhere with a cell signal.

Wait. The guy at the shop.

Bucky.

You fished around through the pile of receipts and other things you abandoned in your cup holder, retrieving the business card from the garage.

Truthfully, you had thought about your interactions with Bucky since last week. Although he had been perfectly kind and professional, something about your conversation had been bothering you. He barely managed to make eye contact. You usually didn’t take that personally but for some reason, it had seemed strange.

You ran your finger along the edge of the card. It was a shot in the dark, considering they didn’t have a 24 hour service number listed. But he had scrawled another number down, so that seemed promising.

Worst case scenario he didn’t answer. Or he answered and offered no help. Your situation wouldn’t change, really. So, you decided that sure, fuck it. You’d call.

After two rings, you heard a voice on the other end. “Hello? This is Bucky.”

“Ah, hi. Hi, it’s uhm..” You gave your name, first and last. “You might not remember me, at the shop the other day – I had a tire and the—”

“The taped-on bumper.”

“Right. Yes.” You sighed. “Sorry to call you so late – I know you guys don’t do emergency service, but do you know any tow truck companies or—” You didn’t mean to yelp when a crack of thunder sounded out, but apparently your body wanted to betray you. “Fuck.”

For some reason, his tone shifted. “Are you okay? Where are you?”

You laughed. “Oh, yeah. I’m just.. I did in fact slide off the road because of my shitty tires so.. I think I have another flat and I’m definitely stuck in some mud. I’m off Hawkeye Road, past the highway turnoff. I called Crawford Towing but they quoted me a three hour wait. Thought I could ask around..”

You swore you heard him grumble now. Christ, you had clearly ruined his night with your phone call. “You know what, sorry I called. I’ll just wait—”

He said your name before you could finish. “Sorry, that was frustration over Crawford. They’re useless. I have, uh.. I know someone with a tow truck. Would you mind sharing your location with me?”

“Oh. Uhm.” You considered his question. Okay, yes, you didn’t know him. But you knew where he worked and you’d have to share your location with a tow company anyway. You went to your phone location services and shared. “Alright.”

“Thanks. Stay in your car. I’ll text you with an ETA.”

--

Bucky knew you from somewhere. He just couldn’t pinpoint it. There was something about your face and your inflection. It had lingered with him ever since he had delivered your tire to the parking lot. 

He knew it wouldn’t have been appropriate to look into your customer file for his own personal curiosities so he tried to let it go. And yet, you crossed his mind again and again. It didn’t help that he found you particularly nice on the eyes, too. 

Even though giving you the business card and his phone number felt like an unnecessary move, something in him hoped you might have reached out. Actually, given the state of your car and wheels, he had been more than hopeful. At the end of the day, helping ensure their customers were safe was the most important value of their work. Your car definitely needed some work just to come up to proper safety standards.

And when you called, in the middle of a rainstorm on a Friday night, his stomach had twisted with concern.

Bucky had been in the middle of binging through some new historical tv series, his cat Alpine curled against his lap, when you called. And two additional phone calls later, he was headed your way with a tow truck from Wilson’s. 

Sure, it meant Bucky owed Sam a few favours now, but he didn’t mind.

The rain let up enough for the road conditions to clear, though it was still drizzling. When Bucky finally pulled up ahead of your car, very stuck close to a ditch, under a struggling streetlight, he hoped it would be a quick and easy job.

Bucky got out of the truck, popping open an umbrella as he walked towards your car. Your guess had been right - you had another flat and your back tires had gotten stuck in a particularly bad mudded area. But, he’d get you out.

He walked to your door, grabbing the handle to open it.

“Hey.” He extended his hand to help you out. You blinked twice before taking it, grabbing your purse as you stepped out.

“Do you need help with the–”

He shook his head, motioning to the front of the truck. “Go wait in the cab.”

Bucky gave you the umbrella too. When you tried to protest, he insisted. “Thank you.” 

After he saw you climb up safely into the truck, he adjusted the hood of his raincoat and got to work. 

It wasn’t easy to diagnose your car in the dark evening light but the flat tire was clear enough. And if he had to guess, you might have thrown your alignment off too. He rigged the car up to the chain system and slowly eased it into place on the back of the tow truck. 

Once your car was secured, he returned to the driver’s side door. You gasped when he opened it, tightly gripping your phone. 

“You alright?” He asked. “Is it warm enough in–”

“Can I see your wallet?” You cut him off with your question, eyes blinking as he sat back. 

Bucky pulled down the hood of his jacket and closed the door, head turned towards you. “Sorry - what?”

You took in a deep breath and closed your eyes. “I just need to see your license, actually. Not the whole wallet.”

“Need to?”

“I just..” You let out the breath you were holding. “My cousin is insisting. If I don’t text him updates, he’ll freak out and assume I’ve been murdered and.. We watch a lot of Criminal Minds together. He just wants to know who I’m getting into a truck with.”

Bucky blinked a few times as he took in your words. Christ, he wasn’t any kind of predator and prided himself on his customer service and hard work. Your request was kind of ridiculous but… harmless, he supposed.

“Okay.” He just shook his head and pulled out his wallet. Once he retrieved his license, he handed it to you. “Sure.”

“Thanks,” you replied quietly, taking it and quickly snapping a photo. “I mean it, thanks. For… doing this. I didn’t think you’d be the one driving the tow truck.”

“We work closely with Wilson’s,” Bucky said, returning his license and wallet back to his pocket. “I’m going to just take this to the shop. Unless you had somewhere else to drop the car?”

“No, uh..” You finished sending a text then turned your attention back to him. “I have no plans or thoughts about what happens next so. If you guys can fix whatever is wrong… your shop is good.”

Bucky started the engine up again and pulled off back onto the road. “Do you live out here?”

You looked out the front window. “Oh, no. I was just coming back from.. Over in Cambridge, watching a movie. At their old movie theatre, the Paramount”

“Sci-fi Fridays?” Bucky asked.

“Yes!” You exclaimed, eyes wide as you looked in his direction. “Wow, I didn’t think anyone else in town knew about that. You-” You cut yourself off. 

“Don’t seem like the type?” Bucky filled in again. “What was playing tonight?”

You seemed hesitant to answer but you pushed through. “Tonight was uh, THX 1138. It was okay, not a new favourite for me but had really cool visuals.” 

Bucky opened his mouth to reply, but you kept going. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to… judge, or anything. I’m not some, like, gate keeper of sci-fi movies or.. Yeah, sorry. Why wouldn’t you be familiar? I hate when people judge me for it and yet..”

Bucky noted how you trailed off, typing feverishly into your phone before sighing. You muttered something under your breath but he couldn’t quite catch it. 

There was a reason he usually exclusively worked in the back of the shop - customer service wasn’t his forte. Sure, he loved to talk but sometimes he didn’t know what else to say. 

A few moments passed. The only sound in the vehicle came from the tinny radio and windshield wipers. 

Then, you spoke up again. You were looking at the photo of his license. “Wait. James Barnes.  Are you Becca’s brother?”

—

James Barnes. Of course. Had you really forgotten what it was like to be back in your home town? Where everyone seemed to be connected? 

You had played on the same soccer team as Rebecca Barnes when you were a kid. Then, you had crossed paths again in high school. A friend of yours had dated a friend of hers and well, that was just how friend groups overlapped. 

Despite time and distance, you had kept up a digital friendship with Becca. It wasn’t much but occasional memes and Instagram conversations had helped you maintain a relationship over the years. 

“You know Becca?”

Bucky replied without looking your way. Smart, considering the ever changing state of the highway ahead of you. 

“Yeah. From years ago now. We played soccer together when we were younger.” Nostalgia hit you like a wave. Then, the tidal wave of shame washed over you too. 

You sucked in a breath. No, no. You were working on this. You powered through. 

“The Bluebirds?” Bucky asked, finally glancing your way. 

You smiled, mostly to yourself. “Yes. I wasn’t very good - not fast or agile or… anything. But your sister was so nice to me. We all had to play goalie once or twice and I was so bad. I cried after the third goal went in. And Becca played defense just to hang out with me. She made being a Bluebird fun.” 

You gulped, eyes squeezed shut. “Your mom always used to wait with me when my parents were late to pick me up. She even drove me home a few times.” 

Now that the memories were coming back, you remembered that sometimes Becca’s older brother would be sitting in the back of the van, too. 

Bucky nodded slowly. “Did you - did we all go for ice cream together once? I remember some sort of milkshake incident—”

“Milkshake explosion?” You couldn’t help but laugh. That was a warm memory. You and Becca decided to mix your milkshakes to form some sort of ‘super chocolate’ creation and made a huge mess. The laughter had filled you both up more than the milkshake.

“I learned that day why my ma always keeps an extra towel in the car.” Bucky was grinning now and truthfully, it was kind of mesmerizing. “Do you, uh, still play?”  

“Soccer? Oh, no. Definitely not. My career started and died as a Bluebird.” Power through. “My parents officially divorced around that time so things went a little… off the rails.”

The rain started coming down harder again and you both fell into silence. You were grateful for the rain - because it felt like perhaps you had overshared. 

Your phone buzzed in your hands. Billy. You mumbled out a sideways apology to Bucky then answered the call.

“Hello?”

“Where are you?”

“What?”

“Frank said he’d come pick you up.”

“I’m already in a tow truck, Billy. So tell him thanks but–”

“Okay, well, excuse me for trying to help. Christ. Are you coming over tonight at least?”

You sighed. “I’m not sure how you expect me to do that when my car is literally on a tow truck right now.”

“Well, that fucking sucks. I wanted to see you.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. That was code for ‘I want to have sex’ despite him trying to sugarcoat it. 

Why did you do this to yourself?

Chewing on your lip, you continued. “You can come over to my place?”

“I guess. Are you gonna be bitchy if I don’t stay the night?” 

Chist, you didn’t want to deal with him any longer. “Nevermind. I’m hanging up now, Billy.” Usually, you were weak and tangled up in your confusing feelings enough to just give in, even when Billy was acting this way. But his asshole attitude was bleeding through too much already.

You shoved your phone into your purse, silenced, then swallowed another sigh. Luckily, it seemed you were getting closer into town and Bucky’s shop.

“Was that Billy Russo?” Bucky’s question barely surprised you, but you still didn’t rush to answer. Your hometown wasn’t particularly big, there was a lot of overlap for who knew who. Plus, the company Billy’s family owned and your place of employment, Anvil Construction, was very well known across the county. 

Slowly you turned your head to look at Bucky. He was still looking forward on the road, slowing down at an intersection.

“I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. He was just loud.”

“It was.” You sighed. “And he does have a certain unbearable volume at times. How do you know Billy?”

Bucky hesitated - which immediately annoyed you. He was the one who started this conversation. You held back saying anything in response until he replied.

“We, uh, went to high school together.”

Part of you wanted to pry out more information - given that Bucky could identify Billy from hearing his voice through your phone. But, god, what did it matter? You had only been back in town for a year and you were constantly reminded about the dramatics of social circles like this. You didn’t need more information, not now.

Luckily, Bucky was pulling up to the shop.

“I’m going to just leave the truck and your car here until the morning. Then I can assess what’s going on and I’ll call you tomorrow?”

“Okay. Thanks. I didn’t think you were open on Saturdays - your website hours said otherwise.”

As he parked the truck and cut off the engine, Bucky rolled his eyes. “Our website is very out of date.”

“No kidding. It looks like it was built in 1999. It would be really easy to upgrade the whole interface. You could actually even add in a widget that lets people book appointments on the spot, with an itemized list of..” You trailed off. That was enough. You really had to reign yourself in. “Sorry - I just.. Work in digital marketing, so..”

Bucky laughed, though. It wasn’t mean or judgemental either, but complimentary. “It probably was built in ‘99. I know we could do better.” 

You moved from the tow truck to Bucky’s car that was parked nearby. He insisted you use the umbrella again. You paused as you grabbed the door handle. “You know, I can call an Uber if it’s easier. I’m not far.”

“There’s nothing hard about me driving you home. C’mon.”

Bucky’s car was pretty nice - vintage, maybe. It was older than yours but certainly in better shape. He glanced towards you before he shifted into drive. “What’s your address?”

You sighed. “You won’t believe me but it’s 1729 Bluebird Lane.”

“You’re kidding,” Bucky laughed.

“Some twist of fate, I guess. That whole neighbourhood has seriously cute street names though. They must have wanted a rainbow theme. There’s Marigold and Roseway, too.”

Your conversation returned to Becca again. Bucky told you she was working as a nurse now. You mentioned how you had run into her a few weekends ago at a grocery store and how it felt like you immediately picked up where you had left off all those years ago.

“She even invited me to her birthday party next weekend?” You tried to remember what Becca had told you. “Insisted I attend, actually. She said it would be a good, ol’ fashioned house party.”

Bucky rolled his eyes, though you could see his eyes lit up when he talked about his sister. It was kind of charming. You weren’t surprised though - you had very fond memories of feeling a twist of envy about the Barnes family and how they interacted. The way Mrs. Barnes waited with you after all those soccer games - it was a kindness you’d never forget and something you knew your own mother would never replicate.

When your house came into view, Bucky slowed down. When he stopped, you both clocked the black car in your driveway.

“Roommate’s car?” Bucky asked.

You didn’t even have a chance to answer before the owner of the car got out. Billy. You watched as he popped open an umbrella and walked towards Bucky’s car. 

As you pushed on the handle, Billy grabbed it from the outside and fully opened the door. 

“What’s up Barnes?” Billy greeted Bucky after he said hello to you. “It’s been a while.”

Bucky nodded once. “Russo.” 

The energy between them wasn’t lost on you. “Uhm. Well, thanks for rescuing me on the highway and for the drive home, Bucky.”

“I’ll call you tomorrow.” Bucky nodded again then quickly added: “About your car.”

“Right. Thanks again.”

Billy said your name, voice already laced with annoyance. “C’mon. My shoes are soaked.”

Crouched under the umbrella with Billy, you looked back and offered Bucky a final wave as he drove off. He returned it with a small smile then he was gone. 

Once you were inside, finally fully safe from the rain, you shrugged off your coat. Billy was doing the same, abandoning his shoes and umbrella on your front porch. 

“How do you know Bucky?” You asked.

“We met in high school. Then he married my cousin.”

“He’s married?”

“Divorced now. Huge mess. The guy barely shows his face anymore, thank god.” Billy laughed, then reached for the hem of his shirt. “Enough about Barnes though, are we doing this?”

–

You closed your eyes, taking in a few deep breaths.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered your name, brushing his thumb against your knee. “I’m sorry for everything. Ever since that day.. On the street, outside the restaurant, just by saving me - you had a target on your back and it’s my fault. I hurt you and put you in danger and it’s my fault.”

The silence washed over you both again.

Steve continued, quieter. “Is there anything I can do or say right now to help you? I know you’re probably scared and I can’t fix that but… your well being, that’s all that matters to me.”

You exhaled and opened your eyes. “I.. I’m hungry.”

Steve blinked. “Uh, okay. Sure. I can order a pizza or we could..” His lips twitched into a brief smile. “How about grilled cheese?”

 —

Truthfully, Steve wasn’t always stocked up on the basics but this time he was grateful for what few groceries remained in his fridge. There was a strange silence as you headed to the kitchen. Steve got to work grabbing what he needed for grilled cheese making while you sat at his small dining room table.

Hercules followed you closely, finding a new place to sleep at your feet. 

You fiddled with the tag of the tea bag in your cup of chamomile, quiet. The frying pan sizzled.

“Steve?” 

Your voice drew his attention away from his task at hand. He turned. “Yeah?”

“Why didn’t you tell me about the fire? At, uh, your mom’s clinic?”

He stilled then turned back towards the stovetop. He flicked off the element and plated the sandwiches, joining you at the table. He slid a plate across to you.

“I would have, eventually. I didn’t want to scare you,” he finally replied, biting on his lip before he continued. “There was a street gang making a big mess in Brooklyn years ago now. In this type of work, uh, gangs usually coexist. Not always peacefully, of course.”

You took a bite of your sandwich and watched Steve carefully.

“This particular group - called themselves the Red Skulls, led by this absolute menace Johann Schmidt.”

“Oh,” you tipped your head to the side, nodding. “I think I remember hearing about him in the news a few years ago.”

“Probably. They were fucking messy. Schmidt was a piece of work especially. There are a lot of things I do not tolerate in my city and he crossed a very serious line.” Steve rolled his neck. God, maybe he shouldn’t be telling you this. But what did he have to lose now? Honesty was all he had left. “Long story short - we took down one of the Red Skulls trafficking operations. They were kidnapping sex workers.” He took in a sharp breath, eyes closing at the resurfacing memories. “Ma looked after everyone we helped escape and Schmidt retaliated by setting fire to the clinic...”

And Steve had been at some fucking club that night. Volleying between shots of liquor and lines of coke, he nearly missed the most important phone call of his goddamn life. 

Steve lost himself in his downward spiral of thoughts as memories of his mother’s recovery flashed through his mind. When he came back to reality, you were looking at him. There was a strange sadness in your eyes.

“That wasn’t your fault, Steve,” you said quietly, tearing off another piece of your sandwich.

He laughed, shaking his head. “The people I care about, the ones I love - you, included now - there is a target on their back, on your back. Forever. I pushed you away and for what? They still..” He dragged both of his hands down his face, head shaking again. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. For.. everything.”

You blinked again, then looked down at your plate. “When you called me and broke up with – that day. What you said to me, it was so careless and..”

“Mean?” Steve finished for you. That’s what you had said. He was mean. No, he had been worse than mean. It was cruel and he had done it on purpose.

“Yeah. Why couldn’t you just be honest? If you care about me so much, how could you say those things?”

He wasn’t sure if he should answer, if he could. But you were looking at him and waiting.

“I don’t know,” he replied quietly, leaning back in his chair and gazing out towards the window. “Because I wasn’t thinking straight. I was emotionally compromised. Natasha barely talked to me for weeks after that night. That was another constant reminder that I really fucked up..”

You sighed. After a few beats, you finally found some words. “What do we do now?”

He looked back at you. “I know I hurt you. I think about it every single fucking day and I can’t undo it, I wish I could undo it.” He took in a hard breath. “I can’t even ask for you to forgive me because it isn’t fair. Not after tonight. Because after all this, how could you ever?” An empty, somber laugh rumbled through him. “I’m just.. I’m sorry, sweetheart. I wish I could press reset.”

The silence hung between you both again. You finished your sandwich and looked back at Steve. 

“I’m tired,” you said softly, stifling a yawn. “Can I.. sleep beside you?”

Steve nodded. “Of course.”

–

You woke up the next morning in Steve’s bed, alone. Somewhere far away, probably in the kitchen, you could hear him on the phone. With a deep sigh, you got up and put yourself back together. 

Hercules trotted towards you as you departed from Steve’s room. You followed him back towards the kitchen where Steve had put a modest little breakfast together. He ended his phone call when he saw you, then joined you at the table with a pot of coffee.

Your conversation was minimal. You briefly panicked as you recalled the fake meeting Ward had arranged for you with Hammond, but Steve was quick to tell you he had dealt with it.

Eventually, after your quiet breakfast, you asked to return to your own apartment. Steve insisted on driving you there and walking you to your door. When you got to your building, you noticed an additional security guard posted near the front desk.

You wondered if Steve had something to do with that.

When you got to your door, you opened it and let Hercules in before you turned to Steve.

You didn’t know what to say. You weren’t sure  what was supposed to happen now. Truthfully, nothing felt real. 

You felt numb.

“Are you gonna be okay here?” Steve asked, tipping his head just slightly to search your face. “If you wanted to stay at a hotel or–”

“No,” you cut him off. “I’ll be fine, I’m sure. I’m just tired. I’m going to take the rest of the day to try and clear my mind.”

“Well, if you need anything at all, call me. Please.”

You hesitated. What were you and Steve now? Friends? Exes? Something more? Something less? You couldn’t figure it out and you were too scared to ask. What did you even want with him?

“Did you unblock my number then?” Your lips twitched into a momentary smile.

Steve didn’t smile back. He was serious and for a second, you watched as he hesitated to reply too. “Of course I did. I never should have..” He closed his eyes. “Call me, anytime. For anything. If something ever feels wrong or someone..” Releasing a long breath, he met your eyes once more. Your name left his lips, quiet, like a whisper. “I can’t figure out what else to say other than that I’m sorry. Again. I just.. I wish I could fix everything and erase what happened last night and.. I’ll be sorry for the rest of my life.”

You squeezed his closest hand. You didn’t know what to say. You raised yourself up slightly onto your toes and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. Then you disappeared into your apartment.

You called your mom that afternoon. And while you didn’t give her any details about what had happened in the last 24 hours of your life, you found it necessary to still call her and tell her how much you loved her. She didn’t ask why you were reaching out or question the way your voice cracked, but you knew she was concerned. 

The rest of the day, you slept on and off. Eventually, you ordered in for dinner and forced yourself to sit with the feelings you were wrestling with. What was it? What was going on?

Were you scared? Yes, sure. Even though the incident had been isolated and specific, even though the men responsible were either in custody with law enforcement or being kept directly underneath Steve’s foot, you had reason to feel unsettled. 

How could you deal with it though? Enough rational thought brought your heart rate down enough to strategize if anything ever happened again. Pepper spray on keychain, maybe one of those spikey keyrings that doubled as defense weapons.. A self defense class? Maria told you she had taken one before and she found it empowering. Maybe you needed to feel empowered, too.

It was strange though, as you let your mind fester over your feelings, one constant helped keep you steady and walked you back from your edge of anxiety. Steve. When you felt unsafe, Steve had helped you, protected you, saved you. 

You didn’t even know what you were to him anymore and yet, he carried on as if you were the most important thing in the world. That helping, protecting, saving you was a responsibility he didn’t take lightly. Steve.. He just.. You just..

Steve. Steve was calling. You shook off your layer of feelings analysis and answered your buzzing phone, sitting up on the couch as you brought it to your ear. It was late.

“Hello?”

“Hey.. thanks for.. I wanted to check in, see how you’re doing. If I’m overstepping, feel free to hang up on me, though.”

You let out a quiet laugh. “You’re not overstepping.” You’re being Steve. “I’m okay, yeah. Calm and mostly relaxed. I’m..”

“I’m glad to hear that.” He paused and you swore you could hear him overthinking what to say next. “Would you tell me the truth though? If you weren’t.. Okay?”

You nodded, even though he couldn’t see you. “I would.”

“I appreciate that, really. I know you don’t owe me anything but I’m worried.”

You smiled to yourself. “I’m okay.” You knew repeating it may not reassure him, but it helped you. “Oh, actually. I was thinking about something.. Uhm, when they..” You breathed in slowly. “When they took Hercules, they mentioned some weird threat about him fighting. Is that.. Does that mean they.. That there is a dog fighting, uhm, thing or..” You couldn’t even bear to finish what you were thinking.

“Bucky is already investigating, sweetheart. If that exists, we’re going to stop it. I promise you.”

–––

The next evening, Steve called again. To check in and make sure you were still okay. It was funny - because you had a feeling that his phone calls weren’t the only thing Steve had implemented when it came to ensuring your wellbeing. A new lock system had been installed at the front of your building and that same security guard was patrolling when you left for work that morning too.

The next night he called to see how you were. Then the next and the next and the next.

One night, after you told Steve that you were okay, again, you felt an urge to keep him on the line. For some reason, your conversation started to feel like they used to when you first met - friendly, but a hint of something else, something more. But did you want that? Did he?

“While I have you, though. I was wondering if I had to ask Clint for permission if I wanted to paint my apartment - do you know? Or is it like free reign?”

Steve laughed on his side of the phone. “I can get Clint to find you a painter tomorrow, if you want.”

“Oh, no.” You dismissed that idea quickly. “I want to do it myself. I think it would be fun.”

“Well then, since it’s my building, consider this your permission to paint whatever you want. And if you need some extra hands, I’d be happy to help.”

–––

A week later, you answered another late call from Steve.

“It’s late, I can let you go. I’m sure Hercules is already asleep beside the bed waiting for you..”

You smiled to yourself briefly, then sighed. “I’ve been in bed for a while, actually.”

“Oh.” You heard Steve pause. “You didn’t have to take my call.”

“I can’t sleep tonight.”

He paused again. His voice was slower this time, softer. “Is something wrong?”

“No, I just..” It was probably just the late day coffee you had or the tight stress you were holding in your body. “..can’t sleep, I guess.” 

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Maybe you could.. I don’t know, just talk a bit. Tell me a story? From your childhood or high school or something?” You stifled a yawn. “Anything..”

After another beat, Steve’s voice returned in your ear. “Okay. Let’s see. Technically I’m forbidden to share this story but me and Buck had to take a theater class in high school and..”

–––

Steve called you pretty early one night, just as you were coming home from picking up Hercules.

You dropped onto your couch and quickly pulled on the nearest throw blanket the moment you walked into the apartment. When you noticed Steve on the caller ID, you answered right away.  

“Hi,” you said through a yawn, laying flat on the cushions. It sounded like Steve sighed in relief on the other end of the phone. “Steve? Everything okay?”

“Yeah, sorry. Hey sweetheart,” he continued quickly. Damn. When he slipped in the sweetheart pet name, your heart got really confused. “Just nice to hear your voice.” 

“Are you okay?” You repeated the question, sitting up from your lounging position. 

“I am,” he confirmed. “There’s just something I need to tell you, before you hear about it on the news.”

“Okay..”

“Rumlow - Brock Rumlow.. You remember him?” Before you could answer, Steve laughed. “That’s a stupid question. I’m sure you haven’t forgotten Rumlow.”

You couldn’t help but smile at Steve’s commentary. “No, I haven’t forgotten Brock Rumlow.” Your momentary elation soon disappeared when you considered why Steve might be mentioning Rumlow by name. “What about him?”

“He died today.”

A silence fell between you. “In prison?”

“Yes. Considering how high profile his arrest was, it will likely make the evening news. Maybe it’s already published, I don’t know. I just wanted to warn you before you heard.”

“Okay.” You paused again. “Steve - did you–”

“This had nothing to do with me, surprisingly.” He let out some weird exaggerated laugh again. “I wasn’t his only enemy.” That was Steve choosing what to say and you supposed that was fine. The nitty gritty details really weren’t needed. “Sweetheart, are you okay?”

Even though he couldn’t see you, you shrugged, laying back down. “I don’t know, I guess I’m just.. it’s weird to say relieved but..I shouldn’t feel relief over someone’s death, right?  Maybe I don’t know how to react.”

“That’s normal, I’d say.” He paused. “I don’t want you to be scared.”

“I do get scared. I think about that night a lot.” You sighed. “But I’ve lived in New York long enough to know that the weird person on the subway probably doesn’t give a shit about me, so I shouldn’t be worried about them.”

“What weird person on the subway?” Steve asked quickly. You could hear him shuffling, maybe going from sitting to standing. “Where did you see–”

“Steve.” You cut him off, with a quiet laugh. “That was hypothetical. I’ve been alright lately, I promise. And remember, I said I would tell you if I wasn’t.”

You heard him let out a long sigh. “Okay.”

“Thank you for calling me and giving me a heads up though,” you continued. “Maybe I’ll mute my news feeds for a few days.”

–––

You [7:01PM]: what do you think? It has taken a few weeks from start to finish but…

You [7:01PM]: (IMG_9116) S Rogers [7:02PM]: that’s a great colour S Rogers [7:03PM]: so. what was the ratio of paint on wall vs paint on you? You [7:03PM]: wow! Rude. You [7:03PM]: 90/10 You [7:04PM]: (IMG_9121) S Rogers [7:06PM]: very cute S Rogers [7:06PM]: even with paint in your hair ;)

–––

Thanksgiving wasn’t your favourite holiday. The food was fine and sure, it was a great excuse for some time off work.

Into adulthood, you were really appreciative of the friendsgiving tradition instead. Especially because your mother was spending the holiday in Jacksonville with her cousin, leaving you mostly without plans for the big day.

Friendsgiving you took seriously. Claire was hosting this year, the weekend before Thanksgiving since she had to work on the holiday, and you had been tasked with dessert making, which was totally up your alley. Maria had offered assistance, so together you were spending your Friday night making the most out of your oven and counter space. 

It was going well, although you had started a lot later than planned. It made for a late night but you were in good company with Maria. Having a night in with one of your closest friends wasn’t something you took for granted. Between flour measurements and preparing fruit, you and Maria spent the entire night talking. It was exactly what you needed.

Just before midnight, you were taking the pecan pie out of the oven and Maria was finishing off the dishes. Just as you turned to join her at the sink, a loud banging started at your door. You gasped, probably too loudly for a sane person, and met Maria’s wide confused stare.

Hercules awoke from his bed in your room and trotted towards the door, cautious.

You walked over behind him, holding your breath as another knock echoed.

“Jesus, Barnes - you’re going to scare her to death..”

Barnes? Was that.. Clint’s voice?

Maria followed behind you, pausing as you looked through the peephole. 

“Who is knocking on your door at midnight?” Maria asked quietly.

You sighed. Bucky and Clint, apparently. What on earth?

After unlocking the door, you opened it, stopping the bickering men in the middle of their conversation. 

“Hello?” You returned their awkward greetings with a small wave. “Can I help you?”

“What is that smell?” Clint’s eyes widened, looking over your shoulder into the apartment. “Are you baking?”

“Can I help you?” You repeated, turning your attention to Bucky directly. “What are you doing here?”

Bucky let out a breath before dragging a hand down his jaw. “So, here’s the thing, doll. My good friend Steve - you know Steve, right? He’s currently spiraling because you haven’t answered your phone or any of his messages all night..” He stood up a bit straighter, looking between you and Maria. “Given the uh..well, he’s just worried about you. Sent us up to check in.. And, since you are clearly very alive and safe, we should..” He paused. “Do I smell snickerdoodles?”

“Oh my god,” you rolled your eyes, inviting the men inside. Maria grabbed the container of fresh cookies and offered them each one.

“If Steve is concerned, why isn’t he at the door?” Maria wondered out loud. 

“Boundaries,” Clint answered with a mouth full of cookies.

Bucky thwacked him on the shoulder. “Manners, Barton.” Bucky waited to bite his own cookie, then nodded. “He’s politely keeping his distance.”

You sighed, then looked over at Maria. You had filled your friend in on most of the details about you and Steve and what your recent reconnection looked like. Minus the whole warehouse rooftop situation. You weren’t sure how to share that. But the confusing new feelings and conversations.. They had proved difficult to process alone.

Not to mention that after you and Steve had broken up, your friends had loyally become very anti-Steve. Which you very much appreciated and if the roles were reversed, you’d have done the same for them. But people and relationships were complicated. You weren’t sure how your friends would react to the whole thing.

Maria, for example, had been incredibly cautious and resistant when you filled her in. Not that she didn’t believe in giving people second chances - but instead held true to the fact that all men were just big clueless morons who never did the right thing. You couldn’t fault her for that opinion either. But even if you figured out your own feelings and walls, you’d never be able to really date Steve again if your friends hated him.

“Hmm,” Maria leaned against your counter, removing the dish cloth from her shoulder as she organized her things. “Well, you should walk me out.” She turned to you. “Points to Steve for respecting boundaries and still caring about you, but I’d feel better seeing him grovel up close.”

Clint let out a belly laugh. “Me too”

While Maria and Clint headed out, you took the opportunity to put Hercules’ leash on for one last trip outside before bed. When you stepped into the hallway, Bucky was waiting for you. 

“This isn’t my place and I know you’re smart enough,” he started slowly, dropping his hand down to accept a lick from Hercules. “But you know you don’t owe Steve anything right? I told him that the day might come where you don’t answer his phone calls and he has to deal with it on his own. If you close the door, he will keep his distance.”

You scrunched up your face, then shrugged. “Thanks, Bucky. Sounds like you’ve been doing a lot of emotional support for him.”

“You have no idea, doll. It’s part of my role as lifelong best friend, unfortunately. It’s a heavy burden to bear,” Bucky laughed, shrugging too. “He’s got some demons to work through - I guess we all do. Right now with you though? He’s trying real hard not to look like he’s trying.”

You caught up with Clint and Maria at the elevator then headed to the lobby. As you walked out, you spotted Sam leaning against the front desk, chatting with the overnight doorman. And then there was Steve - standing at attention, hands locked behind his back, an equal distance between the front entrance and the elevators. He was dressed in what you considered his normal attire - a crisp navy suit over a plain shirt, no tie. He made effortless look so damn good and you sort of hated it.

When he saw you, he took a few strides forward.

Bucky and Clint joined Sam to the side while Maria lingered behind your shoulder. Hercules tugged on his leash and pulled you towards Steve immediately, clearly overjoyed to see him. 

“Hey,” you started as you approached. “I unintentionally ignored your calls, I’m sorry. Just plugged my phone in and forgot about it for a while.” 

Steve shook his head quickly. You couldn’t help but see his resolve lighten, as if seeing you caused his shoulders to relax. “You don’t have to apologize. I shouldn’t have dragged everyone here, there was just this..” Whatever Steve was going to say, he seemed to change his mind. He blinked twice then scanned you. “Is that.. flour?” He reached and brushed your shoulder clean.

“We’ve been baking,” you filled in quickly, doing your best to try and read him. “Claire is hosting us for Friendsgiving tomorrow and–”

“You should come!” Maria blurted out from behind you. 

With wide eyes, you looked over your shoulder at her. ‘What?’ you mouthed. 

Now it was Maria’s turn to shrug. “Claire said her cousin had to bail so there’s an extra seat and..” She took a step forward, nodding at you in reassurance before looking at Steve. “And Luke will be there. So.. you know, you’ll have a friend..”

“I thought Claire invited Matt?” You couldn’t help but ask as your brain caught up to you. “That doesn’t..” You turned back to Steve. “You are more than welcome to come. I know you’re busy and have a lot of–”

“I’d love to,” Steve answered slowly, as if trying to make sure you were even okay with the concept. You reached out and grabbed his nearest hand, with a squeeze. That seemed to be reassurance enough. “What can I bring?”

Steve and his crew left shortly after, not before Steve gave you a soft kiss on the cheek. You forced Maria to join you outside with Hercules before her Uber showed up. The fresh air was something you really needed to cool down. 

“So,” You turned to Maria, tipping your head to the side dramatically. “What the hell was that?”

Maria whined out your name, shaking her head. “That guy is in love with you. And trust me, he has a long way to go before I will trust him again, but damn. He looks at you like you’re the most important person on the planet. And I think you love him too.”

“Maria..” You sighed, leaning your head onto her shoulder. “I don’t know how things got so complicated.”

“I just want you to be happy and safe,” she carried on, giving you a small pat on the head. “I get that not everyone is into second chances but.. I don’t know, life is short. If you feel comfortable giving the guy another chance, then we could too. Maybe. Wanda for sure can get on board, Claire might have some reservations.”

“And inviting Steve tomorrow is supposed to be some test?”

“Obviously,” Maria smirked, looking like you had said the most ridiculous thing in the world. “I think it’s only fair for us to really get to know him.”

–––

Claire lived in a beautiful rent controlled apartment in the middle of Harlem. She complained about the location every now and then - it wasn’t the smoothest commute for her to get to work - but at the end of the day, it was functional and roomy. 

Which was good, considering you, Claire and Maria had rearranged most of her living room and kitchen area to host a dozen people for Friendsgiving. With a set of borrowed chairs and a folding table from Claire’s downstairs neighbour, you managed to set up the area just in time before everyone started to arrive.

When Maria had spilled in the group chat about inviting Steve to dinner, Claire had been apprehensive but on board, for your sake. And although you had been grateful for your friends’ open mindedness when it came to Steve, you were suddenly nervous about the whole thing.

Mostly because - oh god, what if he had a terrible time? Or what if he got a phone call in the middle of dinner and had to disappear? Was he going to bring a gun with him? Jesus, you hadn’t even thought about that and what if-

Claire dropped a hand on your shoulder. “Girl, you need to chill.” She urged a glass of your preferred wine into your free hand and sent you away from the kitchen area. “He’s just a man, remember.”

You laughed and clinked your glass with hers. Claire was always a good voice of reason, which you appreciated. You turned to her with a smile. “A good reminder, thank you. But speaking of men - why did you invite both your current fling and your ex to this?”

Before Claire could defend her own actions, Maria was answering a knock at the door and guests started to arrive. After a few arrivals, you were the one greeting at the door and you couldn’t hold back your smile when Steve showed up, with Luke at his side.

“Hey,” you said, politely stepping aside to let Luke in while you lingered in the doorway with Steve. “You look nice.” It felt silly to say but you couldn’t help yourself. Steve had traded his typical suit for a pair of dark brown slacks and a knitted red striped polo. His hair was perfectly coiffed and you just wanted to… kiss him. Damnit.

Steve smirked in response, pulling you into a side hug. “You look nice, sweetheart.” Okay, yes, you had picked out one of your favourite dresses. But that was because you wanted to dress up for Friendsgiving, that was the only reason.

After he shed his coat, you noticed Steve was carrying flowers. You didn’t even have a moment to comment on them before he headed towards the kitchen, where he presented the bouquet directly to Claire. She accepted them with a smile, and when he turned away, you caught her eye. She pointed towards the flowers and mouthed ‘Ten points!’

It didn’t surprise you that Steve managed to socialize effectively with everyone he just met, but he truly did such an impressive job holding conversations. Before dinner, he engrossed himself in a chat with Claire’s on-again-off-again ex-boyfriend Matt, the lawyer, and his coworker Foggy. They seemed to have some common interests in certain legal matters that mostly sounded incredibly boring to you. 

Steve stayed within your orbit and even when you were in the kitchen finalizing a few things with Claire, you caught him looking your way. Why did that make your heart beat so fast?

You sat at his side for dinner and when everyone was going around sharing what they were thankful for, Steve’s hand found your knee under the table. When you said you were thankful for all the people in your life (and your dog, of course), Steve gave you a delicate squeeze and rubbed his thumb against your thigh. 

After dinner, he found you in the kitchen.

“You know, Bucky was bragging all night about your cookies,” Steve saddled up beside you as you leaned against the kitchen counter, while you nibbled at the last piece of apple pie. Steve grabbed a spare fork and joined you. “They ain’t got nothing on this pie.”

You smiled. “Glad you liked it.”

“Apple is my favourite,” Steve replied, licking his lip after cleaning off his fork. “Ma makes a good one but I think she has some competition.”

“That seems like really high praise,” you laughed, leaning against the counter. Steve mirrored you, resting his hand behind your back. It was subtle, maybe even barely noticeable, but he very slowly started to trace circles against the soft fabric of your dress. You were melting. “I’m really glad you came. Hopefully it wasn’t too painful for you.”

He tipped his head to look at you. “We will have to thank Maria for inviting me.”

When Steve politely offered you a ride home, you couldn’t say no. Since you were both heading towards the same area of Brooklyn, it made a lot more sense than taking the subway. As you were leaving, Clarie, Maria and Wanda all gave you the same friendly judgemental look. You accepted that as approval for your actions, departing with a small smile and Steve’s hand at your back.

In typical Steve fashion, he walked you inside and to your apartment door. And then he even happily joined as you took Hercules outside for some air.

Then, well, the night was over. Steve had come to dinner, Steve had brought you home. What else was there to do?

“You can share those cookies with Bucky,” you said with a smile as you stood in the hallway, between Steve and your door. You were sending him home with the rest of the snickerdoodles. “Or keep them all to yourself.”

Steve smiled, raising his hand to brush it through his hair. God, that was sexy. Had that always been sexy? What was going on? Why were you feeling this way?

“Thank you again for letting me join you tonight,” he said slowly, then his feet shuffled forward half a step closer to you. “Hopefully your friends don’t hate me.”

You laughed, sliding your tongue across your lips. You watched his eyes dart down, watching carefully. You swallowed the lump in your throat. “Steve..”

Then he leaned in, holding your hips with his hands, and pressed his lips… to your cheek. You tried not to deflate. 

His palms lingered against you for a moment, then he pulled back. You couldn’t read his face. 

“Goodnight, sweetheart.” 

–

You texted him well after midnight.

You [1:12AM]: are you awake? S Rogers [1:12AM]: yes

Steve answered your call after the first ring. “Is everything okay?” 

You couldn’t believe you had actually hit ‘call’  but something deep within you compelled you to. It was dark in your bedroom and you couldn’t stop thinking about Steve. You had been restless in bed for over an hour as his face flashed through your mind. Steve with his broad shoulders. Steve with his lingering hands. The way his chain bounced on his chest, how he growled when he came…

Just moments ago you had reached into your bedside table for your little vibrating toy. It wasn’t the first time you had put it to use thinking about Steve. But this time, you were imagining him tearing off that knit polo, the lingering smell of his aftershave, his weight on you. 

If you couldn’t feel him, maybe you could hear him.

“I’m fine..” You said slowly. “Are you at home?” It occurred to you he might have gone directly to Shield after he dropped you off. 

Your name left his lips, drawing your attention back to the call. “I’m home. What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

“What’s wrong is..” You tried to steady your breathing. Your voice dropped down. “.. you’re not in bed beside me.”

Silence. Then, you heard his breath hitch. “Baby..”

“I can’t..” You were whining into the phone. “I want to come, Steve. Will you help me? Please?.”

He chuckled, lowering his voice. “I can’t say no to that request, sweetheart. Tell me - what are you doing? You using that toy?”

“Uh huh,” you preened back. You had been sliding it across your skin, teasing yourself for as long as you could. “I’ve been thinking about you, Stevie. You and me.”

“Me too, baby. Fuck.” You could hear more shuffling on his side. Christ. Was he touching himself too? “Listen to me, I’m going to help you. Bet you’re already wet, aren’t you?”

You just whined in response.

“Turn that toy up a notch, baby. Circle your clit real slow. And what about your nipples? God, if I was there–”

“Tell me, please. If you were here..”

Half an hour later, as your laboured breathing settled after two quivering orgasms, Steve wished you goodnight and sweet dreams. 

–––

Given it was the night before Thanksgiving, your boss has been flexible when you had to dash out early. The frantic call from Kate at the dog daycare had been surprising, but thankfully your heart rate steadied out when you learned that Hercules was okay. They hadn’t spared any other details, but politely asked owners to come collect their dogs earlier than usual.

Truthfully, you had barely been functional at work all week anyway. Sure, you went through the motions and got your tasks done but before a long weekend, most people were half-assing their responsibilities anyway. And your mind was still racing after Friendsgiving dinner and the phone call with Steve and… Steve. 

Fuck.

You were one of the last to arrive at the daycare, patiently waiting in line to check Hercules out. Once you had him, leash in hand, you turned to leave. Then you spotted Natasha and Yelena chatting quietly to the side of the room, and, well, you couldn’t help but follow your gut.

You saw Yelena there quite often, but Natasha was a rare sighting. Ever since your conversation with Steve after the whole warehouse incident, something had been pricking at the back of your mind.

“..Natasha barely talked to me for weeks after that night..”

Taking a deep breath, you headed toward the sisters. Luckily, it seemed like their conversation had come to an end anyway as Yelena rushed past you with a hurried hello, then joined Kate somewhere behind the scenes. Nataha remained planted where she stood, scanning over her phone. She tipped her head up as you approached.

“Hey,” you started out slowly, offering a reluctant smile. 

Nat crouched briefly, greeting Hercules with a few head scratches before she met your gaze again. “How are you?”

“I was wondering if.. you had like two minutes to chat?” You asked, eyes closed tight as you anticipated her answer. You weren’t sure what it was about Natasha, but she intimated you immensely. You weren’t scared of her but something made you want to impress her. 

Natasha looked at her phone again, eyes narrowed, then back to you. “I can give you five.” With a nod of her head, you followed her behind the front desk and into the small staff kitchen area opposite the main daycare space.

While Natasha dropped onto one of the well worn couches, quickly joined by Hercules as you let go of his leash, you couldn’t steady yourself. All at once, your burning questions and thoughts swirled around in your mind. Then, you took a deep breath and opened your mouth.

“Steve told me a few weeks ago, that when we broke up..  he said you stopped talking to him for a while. I wanted to ask you why..” You raised a shoulder up to shrug, then watched Natasha from across the room.

After a few beats, she let out a quiet laugh. Then, she leaned forward on the couch, elbow resting on her knees, and she stared at you. “Can I be frank with you?”

You swallowed, then found a chair to sit on near a small table. “I’d rather you be Natasha..” When that clearly shielded attempt at humour landed no response, you cleared your throat and nodded. “Yes, please.”

Natasha sighed. “Steve trusts me and when he asks me for advice, I don’t sugar coat it. Dating Steve is not an easy task and your wellbeing is his top priority. So I get why he made his decision. But I did firmly advise him not to be an asshole about it. It was going to hurt you either way, but it was up to him to control the delivery.”

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, well, he did a terrible job.” It didn’t sting as much anymore – really. Given how much your friendship or whatever had evolved with him now, the words didn’t echo through your mind like they used to. You understood why he had made his choices and you could see his remorse in every interaction you’ve had since. Of course, it wasn’t possible to erase what had happened but you and Steve both looked back at it differently now.

Natasha relaxed again, pressing her back into the couch. “I have known Steve for a long time and I have rarely seen him act as selfishly as he did. You deserved better than a breakup over a phone call. Jesus, when he told me what he said – I should have gut punched him. In an attempt to protect you, he fucked up something good for you both. It’s bullshit and embarrassing.” Another sigh escaped her. “And, you didn’t hear this from me, but Steve has never let himself be happy. Because this world and this work can really leave you numb. He was so different once you came into his life, it was something else. So, I was rooting for you two.”

You couldn’t help but feel your cheeks warm up with her last sentence. This seemed like something rare, a secret revealed from someone prone to privacy. 

“I see why he made his self sacrifice with you. It is classic Steve, if he cares about something, he cares deeply and shows it.” She pinned you with a stare, giving you another once over. “Here’s the thing. You get to decide if you want to forgive him but if you look back over everything – every single moment with Steve – was there a pattern that makes forgiveness worth it?” Her phone, which had been resting on the couch beside her leg, started to vibrate. “Shit. I’ve gotta take this.”  

Natasha stepped away briefly, keeping her tone hushed.

Christ, you probably need a therapist to start unpacking everything that Natasha had just presented. Was there a pattern?

Yes.

Every single action from Steve since the beginning had been, well, selfless. He was constantly putting your needs above everything else. The day you saved him outside the restaurant, he took you to the one person he trusted the most for care. When you called him in distress during your apartment break in, he didn’t hesitate to come help you.

He picked up on your subtleties, your fears and concerns. He moved you to a safer apartment, he protected you from unsavoury people, he pleaded for your understanding, he always left you feeling satisfied. More importantly, he let himself be himself around you. You loved seeing the personal, soft side of Steve. You.. you loved Steve. And maybe it was time to take the leap of faith again - because you missed him when he wasn’t around. 

Fuck. 

Before your logical brain could catch up and decide what to do with this revelation, Natasha was standing in front of you again. Her eyes were hiding something.

You held your breath when she finally spoke.

“So, speaking of Steve…”

–––

Ever since that night, at the abandoned warehouse, on that rooftop.. Steve had been on edge. More than before. You were constantly on his mind, and despite his efforts to ensure you were safe, he couldn’t settle. 

Well, until he got to hear your voice every night. That… that started to mean more to him than he could explain. It was different this time around - the slow build to flirting, wrapped underneath a foundation of familiarity. 

But it felt like that spark from before had returned, though he couldn’t act on it. 

He couldn’t. He wouldn’t.

Bucky had been his voice of reason through all of the confusing feelings. He kept Steve grounded in reality - that the ball was in your court only, forever. If you were ever going to humour Steve again, it was your choice, at your pace. And maybe it would never happen. Bucky had reminded Steve more than once. 

Every agonizing decision Steve was making lately had you at the forefront. Maybe it wouldn’t end up how he wanted it, but if you were safe and secure and happy, nothing else mattered.

Though it had been completely irrational for Steve to make the crew rush to your apartment on a Friday night, the precautionary gamble ended up paying off. Not only were you perfectly safe, but Steve had somehow managed to end up with an invitation to dinner with your friends.

And dinner had gone surprisingly well too. The moments with you and in your world, away from his own, had been so calming. A reminder that life existed outside of the seedy underbelly, where friendly conversation and good food were the only reason why people got together. God, he had enjoyed every minute of it. But more than anything, he was happy to be at your side.

Leaving your doorway that night with just a simple kiss on the cheek had been hard for him to do. But everything needed to go at your pace. If that meant an inappropriate late night phone call, he’d help you out, too. 

He was fucked.

Admittedly, the past few days had been a welcome distraction following Saturday night. Some events in his business life ended up escalating way quicker than Steve had anticipated - which largely meant ignoring other priorities (and thoughts of you) to assist Bucky with his latest project - the dog fighting ring investigation.

Steve had kept Rhodes in the loop about their plan, much to the former DA’s dismay. Steve had made it his own personal mission to take down this underground operation and he promised Rhodes the public credit. But Steve needed the NYPD to turn a blind eye to their plan.

The ambush took place that Wednesday afternoon, with Bucky, Steve, Sam and a few additional men breaking into an abandoned facility in north Queens and going in with plenty of ammunition. They recovered nearly a dozen dogs, most of which immediately went to a veterinary hospital to be checked out. The pups who didn’t need overnight care were to be transferred to Kate’s facility for the weekend, with the costs covered by Steve.

But, after all was said and done, not everyone had left unscathed. Four of the people organizing the dog fighting were sent to a hospital with some severe wounds thanks to Bucky. And Steve, out of all people, had ended up with a pretty dramatic gash in his left arm from one of the dogs. He didn’t blame the poor animal for the situation, of course. But medical attention was necessary.

That was how he ended up at his mom’s clinic - once again. Sarah Rogers had, of course, greeted him warmly then delivered a firm lecture to him about his personal safety.

Just as Sarah was finishing up cleaning his arm and applying a few temporary sutures to the area, there was a small commotion happening somewhere beyond their room at the entrance.

Steve didn’t hesitate to rush towards the lobby area, finding the intake nurse addressing someone at the door. That’s when he saw who that someone was - you.

Maybe he had lost more blood than he thought, but damn. With the late afternoon sunset streaming in, backlighting you perfectly, it looked like a halo of light. A perfect ring of light framing you, like an angel - as you desperately asked the front desk nurse about Steve, where he was, if he was okay.

The nurse was caught in a repetitive loop, explaining that she couldn’t say who was at the clinic and insisting that dogs weren’t allowed in the building and you needed to leave and –

Steve took a few steps forward, calling out your name. 

Sarah hurried behind the desk and calmed down the girl who sat there, quietly pulling her to the side to leave Steve alone. With you.

“Steve!” You blinked twice and rushed towards him, stopping yourself before you crashed into his chest. “Natasha told me you were here and.. What happened?” You reached out and carefully grabbed his arm, where fresh gauze covered the bite.

Steve answered quickly, removing your hand from his arm and raising it up to kiss the back. “It looks worse than it is, I promise.”

You smiled at him and nodded. “Okay. Good.” Then you took a deep breath. “And all the dogs - they’re safe?”

“Yes, sweetheart. All receiving the care and rest they deserve.” Before Steve realized what was happening, you were throwing your arms around him. He whispered your name softly, rubbing a hand down your back. 

You pulled back and met his soft gaze. “Steve..” You scanned over him again, as if double checking what he said was true. Aside from the bandaging on his arm, Steve truthfully was unharmed. His emotions had been a rollercoaster but for some reason, seeing you had helped settle most of that.

His hand moved and cradled your jaw for just a moment, before brushing against your cheek. “Did you rush all the way here because you were worried about me?”

Your eyes widened before you shook your head. “What? No. I’m not.. It was Hercules, actually, who wanted to make sure all the dogs were okay.” 

Steve couldn’t hold back his grin. “Right.”

“We-” You motioned your head towards Hercules, who was sitting patiently nearby - “weren’t sure what Natasha meant when she said you were injured and..” A long slow breath escaped you. “I just needed to see you.”

Steve could understand your panic, given how he had dramatically rushed to your apartment building over the weekend. Those parallels weren’t lost on him. It had to mean something, right? It all had to mean something.

Your reunion was interrupted by Steve’s ringing phone, where he cursed under his breath before moving his hands from you. “I’ve gotta take this, I’m sorry.”

While Steve took his call from Bucky, you were quickly greeted by an excited Sarah, who grabbed your hand and pulled you away to catch up.

–––

Following your reunion at the clinic, Steve had one of his hands on you. Behind your back, holding your hand, his own hand on your knee on the drive back. He only let go briefly to let you hug Sarah goodbye, after you accepted her invitation to Thanksgiving dinner the next day.

Now, back at your apartment, all you could think about was what was Steve, Steve, Steve. His phone had buzzed with another call from Bucky the moment you stepped inside. He apologized before answering, and you could have sworn you heard him cursing his friend out.

You refreshed Hercules water and food bowls then went into your bedroom, trying to tidy the place up. When you went to pull your blinds down, you couldn’t help but find yourself distracted by the city. Although your view wasn’t as impressive as Steve’s penthouse, you could see into the Brooklyn streets below. At the right angle, you could even see the final orange glow of the sunset through some of the buildings.

It had proved to be a big enough distraction because you didn’t even hear Steve end his call or walk into the room behind you. Instead, you felt his hands on your shoulders, slowly wrapping around and pulling you against his chest. His lips brushed the top of your head.

“Everything good?” You murmured as his hands started to trail their way down your body.

“Mmhmm,” Steve replied quietly, dipping his head down, breathing hot against the side of your neck. “Is this okay?”

You closed your eyes. “Yes but..” It took everything in you to pause, but you turned around in his arms and did just that. “Wait.”

He immediately stopped what he was doing, removing his hands from you as he searched your face. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you answered too quickly. 

He said your name knowingly then repeated himself. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

“Okay, okay. I’m just going to say it. Steve, I want this again - with you. I want us to press reset but I’m really fucking scared.”

You watched Steve absorb your words. Telling the truth was something you knew you had to do, but you hoped Steve understood. He was still, but you could see his brain computing.

“And it’s not about the… rooftop thing. Although.. I definitely don’t think back to that night fondly.” You shook your head as you continued. “I’m scared you’re going to change your mind again. Because I don’t know if I can feel like that again. I’ve convinced myself that the good feelings outweigh that risk but..” Your voice cracked. “I’m scared.”

Steve grabbed your hands and turned you enough to help you sit on the bed. He crouched down in front of you, tracing his thumbs across your knees. “Sweetheart. Hurting you was the biggest regret of my life. I know my words can only mean so much but I want you to hear me.” You met his gaze and nodded. “I’m an idiot. An idiot who will do everything in his power to prove to you how much you mean to me. I can’t undo what I said and resetting doesn’t make it go away. But I love you and want to make this work for us if you’ll give me this chance.”

You raised your hands and cradled his face. “That was quite the speech.”

He smirked. “I mean it, baby. Every word.”

“Okay.” You took in another breath then let it out slowly.

“Okay?” Steve asked.

“Okay, let’s reset.” Your hands left his cheeks, carding through his hair as your lips crashed into his. Kissing Steve didn’t feel like going back to the beginning though - it felt like picking up where you left off. 

Steve didn’t waste a moment responding, hands traveling to the back of your neck to steady you as he pushed you down on the bed. Everything happening now, in that moment, was all that mattered to you both. Steve wanted you, you wanted him. Nothing else needed to make sense.

Your hands roamed down Steve’s torso as he hovered over you, pulling at his shirt and trying to make quick work of the buttons. Steve shed his shirt without his lips leaving you, pressing hot wet kisses against your cheek, down towards your neck. Your eyes fluttered shut at the sensation, gasping when his teeth grazed your shoulder.

“Less clothes,” he whined out, removing himself from you long enough for your top to come off. He stood off the bed briefly to slip out of his pants, while you shimmied out of your jeans. You were left in just your underwear, some very unsexy unmatched set. 

But lord, the way Steve looked at you. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he said firmly, crawling back over you on the bed. He braced himself above you again, tracing a finger up your jaw to tip your chin up. 

You felt your cheeks grow warm. “Steve..”

‘“I’m sorry if what I said… on that phone call - if it ever made you doubt how fucking beautiful you are.” He dipped his head down and met your lips again, softer this time. “I love you, the shape of your body..” He trailed his kisses down you again, towards your chest. “Your heart..” His hands moved down the same way, tracing gently across your chest, along your soft stomach, on top of every single piece of you that you didn’t always love. “I love all of you.”

“Steve,” you whimpered under his touch, squeezing your eyes shut. “Please don’t make me cry.” You choked out a laugh, tipping your head back to mind your happy tears. When you looked back, he was staring at you with a lovestruck smile again. “Thank you. I love you too.”

He grinned, once again leaning down to press his lips to your skin. This time, it was just above your belly button. “It’s okay to cry, sweetheart. But how about I make you come instead?”

How could you argue with that?

Steve surveyed your form intently as he got back to work, hands and lips peppering against your skin. He slid his fingers under the waistband of your underwear and slid them down your legs. You helped to kick them away, just as Steve was licking his lips. 

His eyes flicked to you. “Lay back, baby. Get comfortable.” 

You were quick to shift on the bed, into your pillows. Just as you rested your head back, you felt the bed sink slightly just between your legs. Then the soft kisses that had been decorating your skin were inside your thighs. And then–

You let out a whimper when his mouth met your center. You knew you were already wet, but when Steve growled against your clit and slid a finger into you, it felt like a flood. 

“Oh my g-god, Steve.” With one hand, you grasped at his hair. The other dragged across your chest, pulling your own bra down to grab your nipples. “Yes, yes, please.”

Your eyes squeezed shut, breathless as Steve continued stroking, suctioning against your clit as your moans grew louder. When another finger entered you, crooked inside in search of just the right spot, you nearly combusted. And when you did careen over the edge just moments later, Steve didn’t slow down. 

In a daze you sat up slightly to watch him work. He was drowning in you, his own hips grinding against the bed as he consumed you. Jesus fucking Christ - that was hot. Steve was hot. This - this was hot.

“Steve,” you called for him as his mouth finally slowed down, returning to slow kisses against the inside of your thighs again. He looked up and met your eyes, drunk with love and contentment. “I need to feel you - please.”

“Okay, baby,” he replied with a soft smile. “Let me take care of you.” He shucked off his boxers and crawled up the bed again, hovering above you once more. 

You raked your hands over his chest when he was close enough, gripping his hips as you pulled him down and kissed him. Your own taste lingered on his lips and tongue as he breathed into you.

“You ready?” He asked softly, reaching between your waists to position himself.

“Mmhmm,” you whispered, pressing another kiss against him. “Please.”

“Fuck,” Steve cursed out, eyes closing as he pushed himself in. God, you fit together so well. Once he felt comfortable, watching you for the right signs of pleasure, he moved out slowly before finding a rhythm.

“Steve, I missed you so much..”  You wrapped your hands around his neck, in an attempt to keep him as close to you as possible. With one hand, he held one of your legs up, just enough to elicit better friction. And with the other, he cradled the back of your neck. “Missed this - this stretch..”

You could feel him smiling as he kissed you again. His hips sped up, adding just enough extra pressure that you could really feel him. You’d feel him tomorrow, too.

“My girl,” he said breathlessly against your neck. “Always. Mine..” His mouth ravaged your neck and shoulders. “Want this forever.. Want you forever..” He slowed down momentarily. “Wanna fill you up, baby.”

“Yes, yes please..” you said in return, scratching across his back with your hands as you braced yourself. A low growl escaped him as he came. He tensed up as he finished, weight heavy on top of you as you both caught your breaths.

As his head rested near yours, his lips pressed against your earlobe. “You’re so beautiful, sweetheart. I love you.”

You were still laying in a daze when Steve returned to you in the bed after cleaning up, placing a cup of tea on the bedside table closest to you. His own matching cup rested in his hands. You sat up, pulling up the sheet with you as you rested against the headboard.

Shifting slightly, you pivoted to look at him. “I really missed you.”

He grinned. “So you said.”

“No, not just that.” You gave his shoulder a small nudge, careful not to jostle his tea. “I just like being around you.”

His smile softened. “Me too.” He drew in a long breath and moved his cup to the side table before continuing. He said your name, drawing your gaze to his. “Resetting doesn’t make who I am go away.”

You gulped. “I know.” He seemed to be searching for what to say next, so you continued instead. “I can’t pretend to understand why you do what you do. And I don’t decide what is right and wrong. Neither of us do.” You took a deep breath. “But I want to be with you. That makes me feel a little bit crazy but maybe that’s part of being in love.”

Steve laughed. “You’re in love, huh.”

Rolling your eyes, you fell into his side. “Yeah, unfortunately.”

“And I love you, baby.” He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you against his chest, against his heart. He kissed your forehead. “I’m going to keep my professional life at bay. I won’t be able to stop it from bleeding into this but I promise you I will do everything in my power to keep you safe. I take that privilege seriously.” You felt him squeeze you a bit tighter. “Though I do think there are some precautions we can take, too.”

“We?” You pulled back slightly and watched him.

“I’m going to get you something for your keys and pepper spray for your bag. How would you feel about taking a self-defense class?”

You scrunched up your face as you considered. “It has been on my to-do list for a long time.” Even without a high profile partner like Steve, knowing you feel prepared in times of danger was something you knew was important. You probably should have prioritized it sooner, really.

“Natasha teaches a class, actually. At her gym.”

“Natasha has a gym?” You nodded. “Yeah, okay. I could do that. Will you take the class with me?”

Steve laughed again. “I don’t need self-defense training, sweetheart.”

“But then we can practice together. C’mon, pleeease.”

Steve groaned, but it was evident very quickly he’d do anything you asked. So, he nodded. “Fine.”

You paused. “You’re not going to make me carry a gun, are you?”

“First of all, I’d never make you do anything.” He sat up a bit straighter, face stern. “And no, absolutely not. I hope you are never in a position where that kind of defense is required.”

You settled against him again. Big conversations like this were expected and you knew it made sense to feel a bit scared still. But, that wasn’t the feeling lingering in your stomach anymore. No, it was more like… safety, contentment, familiarity.

It was something akin to being home.

–––

Shield closed down on Christmas Eve and reopened on New Years Eve, so you weren’t sure why Steve needed to check in there in the middle of the holiday week. Sure, his office was upstairs but he had vowed to do as little work as possible over your days off together. And yet, after a lovely dinner together, he apologetically announced there was something there he needed to check in on.

You had shared a few delicious plates at May’s, a small Italian place in Queens. Steve had given you a history of the restaurant on your way - it was one of the first properties he invested in years ago so it was clearly a special place. When you arrived, the server had immediately showed you to a more intimate table tucked away in the back corner. 

Wine and food arrived at the table without a menu or many words exchanged between the server and Steve. After you had finished eating - polishing off one of the best tiramisus you had ever tasted - the restaurant owner, May, came out to say hello.

When you left without mentioning a bill, you had a feeling that the business Steve did with May extended beyond just being a landlord. You didn’t ask any questions though.

Over the last month with Steve, the questionable moments were quite rare. He really did maintain the boundary between his personal life and everything else, with only a bit of a crossover. You had joined him at the club a few times - because you realized dating the club owner eliminated all the awful things you hated about going out. You never had to wait for entrance or for a drink ever again. Your friends especially liked the free drinks and safe rides home, too.

That was only a fringe benefit of being with Steve though. What really stood out to you was just Steve. Getting to know each other all over again had been exciting and fulfilling, in many ways. 

You kept up your nightly phone calls. Well, when you weren’t crashing at his or him dropping into your bed, you kept up the calls. You had spent Thanksgiving with him at Sarah’s and were greeted with boxes of childhood photos to fawn over. For Christmas, you, Steve and Sarah had all travelled up to Albany to spend the day cooking and celebrating with your mom. 

Slowly, it seemed your worlds would be blending together. And you weren’t really sure what the future was going to hold and how that might transpire, but you decided it was worth seeing what could happen. Because being with Steve seemed worth it.

“I promise this won’t take too long,” Steve’s voice broke you from your thoughts, as he parked his car near the back exit of the club. It was a small lot reserved for Steve and Shield staff members only, currently only occupied by one other black car. You weren’t sure who that belonged to. Maybe Natasha was there doing inventory of the bar before New Years.

You gave him a smile from the passenger seat, leaning over to meet his lips for a kiss. “Remember that we have a big day of sleeping in without an alarm tomorrow so..” He smirked. “Take all the time you need.”

Steve bounded out of the car and raced around to help you out, extending his hand to ensure you stepped safely onto the asphalt. You had dressed up for dinner, picking out your favourite black dress paired with some heels that didn’t cause you too much pain to walk in. Steve had grinned like a schoolboy when he picked you up, which made you feel, well, beautiful. You had paired the dress with your Christmas gift from him - a stunning gold and diamond pendant, shaped like a wing. A matching wing now sat with the chain on his neck, too.

You clutched Steve’s hand as you headed through the backdoor of the club. From the dark back hallway, you could have sworn you could hear music playing somewhere. Maybe it was just the memory of whatever song was just playing in Steve’s car.

As you twisted down the hallway, past the back office, storage rooms, and the back stairs up towards the second floor, the music grew a bit louder. You definitely heard music. You tried to ask Steve what was going on but he just squeezed your hand, threw a mischievous grin over his shoulder and carried on.

When you finally made it to the main club area, it was still pitch black. The music kept playing. You grasped both of Steve’s hands in a panic and by the time you had formed a sentence to ask a worried question, the lights powered on.

But it wasn’t the regular industrial overhead lights. Nor was it the multicoloured pot lights that danced around to match the beat of the club music. No, this was something else. 

Above you, the multicoloured lights were steady and emitting just a soft blue tone. Across the open railings above, partitioning off the downstairs area from the VIPs upstairs, various strands of string lights were hung and illuminated. It made the club area feel almost intimate. 

You dropped Steve’s hands and turned around, speechless as you took it all in. On the end of the bar, you spotted a bottle of champagne sitting on ice with two matching glasses waiting. The music playing above you switched to something softer. An old song crackled through the speakers.

You turned back to Steve, who was gazing at you.

He stepped towards you, hand extended. “Dance with me, sweetheart?”

How could you say no to that request?

Steve helped you take off your coat and  discarded his own. Then he pulled you towards the very center of the room, under a now spinning disco ball that splashed flickers of light around the space. 

“Steve,” you started, resting your head against his chest. One of his palms cradled the small of your back while the other grasped your hand, hovering in the air as he led you in slow circles.. “Did you do this all just for me?”

He chuckled. You could feel it rumble through him. “Bucky helped me out.”

You smiled, squeezing his hand in response. You didn’t know what to say. 

And maybe that was okay, because at that moment, it was just you and Steve. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “I promise I’ll always dance with you.”

FIN

-----

“Excuse me?” Your voice cracked as you tried to piece together what he was saying. “I didn’t lie about anything. Shouldn’t - shouldn’t Officer Hammond be following up with me - if there was an issue?”

“I’ve reopened the investigation.” Ward leaned against the building, glancing up and down the street casually as he spoke. “Your intentional misidentification put someone innocent in jail. How do you sleep at night?”

“I didn’t lie,” you repeated, swallowing hard. Hercules paced at your feet. 

“You’re lying right now. Rogers told you who to point out in that police lineup, didn’t he?”

You wanted to scream in this man’s face but given he was technically a person of the law, you resisted. Instead, you pursed your lips and opted to stay quiet. Shouldn’t you have a lawyer or something to represent you? God, why weren’t you into legal dramas instead of reality tv?

“Here’s what it looks like. Rogers asks you to help him out and in turn, you get a fancy new apartment. Isn’t that right?” Ward took a step forward and pointed past you, towards the rest of the block. “How else can you afford a luxury apartment working your little 9-5 gig? I verified your record of employment and something just doesn’t add up.”

Before you had a chance to reply to his asinine claim, he was reaching for his buzzing phone. “This is Ward.” You tried to listen to the other end of the call, but couldn’t make out the voice. 

He looked back at you, eyes roving up and down as he carried on with his phone conversation. “You’re kidding. That was all true? Wow. Okay. Yeah, I’m with her. Sure.” He raised his free hand and suddenly a nearby SUV was pulling up. “Heading there now.”

Your stomach twisted when Ward turned back to you. 

“Let’s go.” He tipped his head towards the vehicle, where the driver had gotten out to open the back door. “We’ve gotta move this chat elsewhere.”

Your eyes blew open, head shaking. “Absolutely not. Give me my phone and —“

Ward stepped towards you again, grabbing your hand that was holding onto Hercules' leash. “If you don’t get in that car willingly, you’ll have a dead dog on your hands. Is that what you want?” He flashed you a smile. “Let’s. Fucking. Go.”

--

“Storm coming tonight..”

Steve looked up from his plate of pasta, watching his mom across the table as she put down her cutlery. Sarah rubbed her hands together, tired with the weight of time and the pressure of weather changes that seemed to grow worse with each passing season. 

“I can feel it in these old joints,” Sarah continued, leaning back in her chair before glancing to the window above her kitchen sink.

“Ma,” Steve finally replied, quietly returning his own fork to the side of his plate. “Why don’t you skip the rest of this monologue about the weather and tell me what’s really on your mind?”

Steve tried to have dinner with his mother at least once a week, if time permitted. The last few months had been a bit chaotic for him though, mostly his own doing of course. And Sarah hadn’t pressed when he canceled. But, something about her tone and strange casual conversation wasn’t sitting well with him. In fact, he could read his mother really well and she was upset, maybe even mad at him. If there was one thing Steve hated, it was when his mother was upset with him.

He liked to nip it in the bud as quickly as he could.

Sarah sighed, slowly crossing her arms over her chest as she eyed down her son. “I haven’t had the chance to tell you about who I ran into at the hospital a few weekends ago.”

“You gonna give me a clue?” Steve smirked, taking a long pause to enjoy a sip from his wine glass. “Who?”

When your name left his mother’s lips, Steve felt his chest tighten. He had very quickly and casually explained to her that you and he had called things off, respectfully asking Sarah not to press him for details. Surprisingly, she hadn’t asked any follow up questions, though Steve knew she hadn’t been feeling positive about the news. In fact, he had assumed his mom would have had a much more passionate reaction. And maybe it was still coming.

He took a deep breath. “Oh. And.. how is she?” Would it be possible for this conversation to only last one more sentence? Would he be able to get out of it without his mother making him feel any worse?

When Steve met his mom’s gaze again, he knew that question wasn’t what he should have asked. He was starting to think maybe saying nothing would have been best.

“How is she?” Sarah repeated, letting out a hard laugh. “Steven.”

“Ma, listen, what happened between us is..” He hesitated. Complicated was not the word he wanted to use, but what else could he say? “I had to cut things off. She’s safer this way.” 

There. His heart was torn off his sleeve and slapped onto his plate. 

“Steve,” Sarah was softer this time, releasing the anger from her shoulders as she reached across the table for his hand. “You’re not being fair. To yourself. How are you supposed to live this way? Don’t you want a family in the future? Or a break from.. everything?”

Steve squeezed her hand but didn’t respond. Sarah waited another moment for him to say something, then stood and carried her plate to the sink. 

Without turning back around, she continued. “I told her about Hamilton House.”

Steve sighed, leaning back in his chair again and shaking his head. “Ma..”

“Why didn’t you just talk to her? She would have understood.”

“You barely made it out of that fire alive!” Steve pushed back from the table and met his mother at the sink, placing a hand on her shoulder. “And I can barely live with myself as is, but if something happened to her too, I’d..”

“Honey,” Sarah’s voice was even quieter now as she pivoted to look at him. She reached her hand up to cradle his face. “You need to stop blaming yourself, please.”

How could he ever do that? The scars were still quite obvious on many parts of his mother’s body - 

“Steve.” Sarah took in another deep breath. “I’m a grown woman who can take care of herself. And so is she.” There was your name again, coming off of Sarah’s tongue like it just warmed her soul. “She’s good for you.”

“That doesn’t matter anymore.” A painful laugh gurgled up in Steve’s throat. “I made pretty sure she’ll never talk to me again, unfortunately.”

“Steven.” This time the soft edge had left Sarah’s tone. The disappointment was back. “Don’t tell me you pushed that girl away on purpose.”

“I’m a grown man who can take care of himself,” Steve repeated back to her, stepping away from the sink and turning to grab his coat. “I’ve gotta go, Ma. Thanks for dinner.”

Sarah grabbed his wrist, eyes bright with words she wouldn’t say. Instead, she shook her head and sighed quietly. “At least take a container of pasta for Bucky.”

---

The further the vehicle traveled beyond your neighbourhood, the further your stomach sank. You did your best to listen to the conversations happening between Ward and his driver, but nothing seemed clear. 

Where were you going? Were you in trouble? You hadn’t lied to the police - you knew better than that. But how could you prove that when clearly they had another story created? Was this about Steve? You weren’t even talking to him. What the hell was going on?

The only thing saving you from a breakdown was Hercules resting his head on your lap. Gently you scratched behind his ears, doing your best to reassure your dog as he did the same for you. 

You were going to be okay. There had to be a positive solution to this mess. 

Eventually, the vehicle slowed down in an industrial area you weren’t familiar with. In the growing darkness of the night, everything kind of looked the same - rows of large warehouse style buildings, some in much worse shape than the others. As you approached one of the buildings, a garage door opened up to allow you access.

“Let’s go,” Ward barked out as the car stopped, quickly sliding through his door and throwing the one closest to you open. He reached for your nearest wrist. “But first..”

Handcuffs. What you could only assume were police-grade handcuffs joined your wrists together, despite your protests. Ward was choosing every opportunity to remind you he had a gun, so when he told you to head towards the staircase leading out of the parking area, all you could do was comply.

The driver, some other nameless brute listening to Ward’s every word, held on to Hercules’ leash and followed behind. The panic within you stirred.

The building had clearly once been a thriving warehouse or multi-level business hub. Now, it was reduced to whatever criminal activity these men were tied up in. Every second window was boarded up or leaking in cold air through broken shards, with the evidence of previous occupants littering the floors. Old desks, chairs, appliances laid strewn about.

Ward guided you across the second floor, leading towards the far side of the room. You could hear other voices as you approached. He yanked the door open and pressed against your back for you to enter ahead of him.

You stumbled past the threshold, lifting your head up to look around the room. It felt out of place, given the state of the building. This room remained intact from days before, the remnants of an executive office with a large boardroom table sitting opposite the broken windows. A man you didn’t recognize was seated behind an oversized mahogany table, a burning cigar hanging off his lips. Behind him, a disheveled blond wearing an ill-fitting suit jacket stood scrolling through his phone.

That man you did recognize – you were certain he had been one of the men who had broken into your apartment. You could feel the familiar wave of panic come over you again.

Sitting in a pair of chairs in front of the desk were another two men – one dressed in a long overcoat over his suit, with perfectly coiffed hair. The other donned more casual clothes, well worn with a scowl across his face, strong and silent. You thought perhaps you recognized them, too. You might have seen them at Shield or maybe they had worked with Steve? 

“This is her?” The man with the cigar asked, rising from his seat. The other two seated men had turned their heads to look in your direction, then stood the same. 

Ward laughed, returning his gun to his jacket, and reaching a hand to grip your neck. He urged you closer to the desk. 

“Russo – you’re sure?” The same man asked again, shooting a glance at one of the other two men. Ah, nice suit, nice hair - Russo. He had interrupted you and Steve, that day at his office.

“Yep. I know, doesn’t make sense to me either,” Russo replied with a dry laugh, stepping away from the desk and waiting to the side with the other man, Mr. Strong and Silent.

“Walker, you’re on dog duty,” Ward added after. He snapped his fingers and the guy scrolling on his phone was at attention, rolling his eyes as he grabbed Hercules’ leash from the driver. 

Hercules whimpered at the back of the room.

You tried to look towards your confused pup, but Ward’s hands landed on your shoulders. He pushed down to encourage you to sit in one of the vacant seats at the desk.

Finally, the man with the cigar looked at you. A tight smirk curled up on his face as he said your name out loud. “Well, nice to finally meet you. I’m Brock. We’ve got a lot to discuss.”

You sat still, hands resting on your lap. You resisted replying with some snappy commentary and instead dug your fingernails into your palms. Maybe you needed to comply, but God, what was the point of all this?

“I’m not really sure what I’m doing here,” you said quietly, letting out a long breath. “I told him-” you jerked your head at Ward, “-everything I said to Officer Hammond was true. Steve didn’t ask me to lie about anything and I’m sorry if someone you know ended up in jail but I had to tell the truth.”

Brock raised an eyebrow, amused. “Well, I don’t give a shit about any of that. We’ve gotta fix this and you’re going to help.”

You pressed your lips into a thin line. 

“You’re going to meet with Hammond and tell him you lied about-”

You shook your head. “I didn’t lie.”

Brock abandoned his cigar and slammed his hand on the table. “Don’t interrupt me, darling.” He took a breath and started again. “You’re going to meet with Hammond tomorrow morning and set things straight, alright?”

“And if I don’t?” You swallowed the lump in your throat as you asked your question. 

Brock leaned back in his chair, grinning. “You’re really asking that? Damn. Well, if you don’t - you’re never going to see your dog again, for starters.”

Your face fell and you shuffled in the chair again, turning to look back towards Hercules. “Please don’t hurt him.”

“What do you think, Walker? The mutt would be good for the pit, huh? They could use some fresh meat for the next fight.”

You gasped as Hercules pulled at his leash, trying to walk to you. Walker held the leash tight.

“P-please. Don’t. He doesn’t deserve that, he’s just..” Your voice shook as you turned and looked back at Brock. “Okay, fine. I’ll talk to Hammond.” You just had to agree and get out of here. Once you were home, you could call the police station and tell them the truth and and and–

“Hammond is expecting you first thing tomorrow morning at the station.” Ward was looking down at your phone, tapping away at the screen. Great, he was just sending messages on your behalf. You hated that. Clearly you were not getting your phone back. Fuck, how were you going to get out of this?

“Now,” Brock leaned onto his elbows on the desk, returning his cigar to his mouth for a long drag. “Let’s talk about Rogers.”

You gulped.

“I need every little dirty secret you’ve got,” Brock said with a snap of his fingers. “Let’s go. Talk.”

“I don’t..” You faltered, glancing around the room quickly. Russo was watching you carefully while his partner seemed to be preoccupied with his feet, his eyes were drawn down. “I don’t know what you think I might know.. Steve and I.. We.. He broke up with me a while ago.”

A laugh escaped Brock. “I heard that wasn’t the case.”

Russo stepped forward. “Rogers took you home from Shield a few weekends ago, did he not? Drove you right back into your apartment then even walked you to the door?”

You stilled. Why did these men know about that? Were they following you? Or Steve? How did they know where you lived?

“I don’t know anything, I swear. Even when we were..” You closed your eyes. “We didn’t talk about business.”

“You know, I don’t believe you.” Brock let out a frustrated huff and tapped his cigar ash to the floor. “Let’s start easy, alright? Rogers has a ledger, the Bible for all his transactions. Where does he keep it?”

You shrugged. “I honestly have no idea. I don’t remember ever seeing a ledger or–”

“Bullshit.” It was Russo jumping in now. “You were fucking him for months. Christ, give us something.”

If you shifted your head back and forth in a shake anymore, you were going to give yourself whiplash. “I-I don’t, really.” You didn’t like how they were both crowding in on you, guns visible on their hips as their voices escalated. “Steve didn’t tell me things - he.. I didn’t..”

“Where does he keep his safe? What buildings did he take you to?” Brock continued on, reciting any thought or question that seemed to jump into his head. “I need to know which Senator is really in his pocket. And what he promised to Rhodes.”

You repeated yourself again and again and again as they bombarded you. “I don’t know, I don’t know! He would never tell me those things.”

“Think harder then.” Brock stood up in a fury, circling the desk to plant himself in front of you. “I need something fucking useful.”

Squeezing your eyes shut, you tried to think of something, anything to stop this. Everything you retained about Steve wouldn’t be what they wanted - that he was an old soul, a gentleman who kept your best interests at heart. Who loved old musicals and his mother. Who cared deeply about things but had hurt you deeply, too. None of that would have been helpful so what the fuck were you supposed to do?

“I..” You let out a breath. Would it be worth it to lie?

“If you say ‘you don’t know’ one more goddamn time..” Brock leaned forward, closing in the space between you and reaching for your jaw. He held it between his fingers, keeping you in his grasp waiting for an answer. 

When you didn’t respond, Brock growled and reached for his cigar, flipping it in his fingers and bringing the burning end closer and closer to your exposed neck. You could feel the heat before it even touched your skin and all you could do was scream in anticipation. 

“I don’t– please! Please don’t-” You pressed yourself into the chair, trying to get as far away from him as possible. But, the burning sensation never came.

“Hey–” This was a new voice. The Strong and Silent man lingering near Russo had rushed between you and Brock, shoving him away before the cigar made contact with your skin.  “You said you weren’t going to hurt her.”

Brock pushed him back. “This has nothing to do with you, Castle. Back the fuck off.” 

Castle didn’t move - acting as a barricade between you and Brock. They stood at a standstill, and eventually Brock let out a long dramatic sigh. “Ward.” He snapped his fingers again and Ward came forward. Once again, a hand landed on your shoulder.

“Take her up to the roof.”

---

“Do we not fucking knock anymore?” Steve called out as Bucky burst into his office, dragging Peter by the collar as he did.

Steve’s patience had run thin following dinner with his mother. She had managed to stir everything else up again, the feelings Steve was desperately trying to eliminate from his heart. Yet, they hadn’t dulled over time like he wanted. They remained steady, as steady as the beat of his heart. 

“She’s good for you.”

On top of that, they had managed to clear out most of the out of territory drug dealers creeping into Brooklyn. But it hadn’t really stopped. The drugs still found their way in, and the problems were escalating moreso. Angry clients, aggravated partners, a particularly frustrated future Mayor who needed Steve’s compliance and trusted network underground for insight. 

The last thing Steve wanted to deal with now was another issue. But when Steve saw the panicked look in Bucky’s eyes as he grabbed Peter’s shirt, Steve paused.

“Show him.” Bucky urged Peter forward, eyes wide in a panic. “Now.”

Steve stood from his chair slowly, meeting the young man in the middle of his office. “What’s going on? Is this about Beck again?”

“No, sir. No. It’s uh..” Peter’s hand was shaking as he gripped his cellphone, tapping on the screen before he glanced between Bucky and Steve again. “I keep an eye on social media - mostly just to see what’s happening, who’s hanging out where. My friend Ned he..” Peter shook his head. “Whatever. No one knows it’s me who watches their stuff. So. I was clicking through John Walker’s Instagram stories - that guy is an idiot, by the way. Always trying to bait women to find him at clubs or wherever. And..”

Peter tapped through something on his screen then turned it toward Steve. “Mr. Barnes said he recognized the dog in the background of this video..” 

Steve snatched the phone and pressed play on the screen recording. John Walker was in the middle of the frame, filming himself with the front camera as he talked about which bar he’d be showing up at later. But none of that mattered to Steve. What did matter was the dog tied up in the background, pulling at his lead as he started to bark. 

“Christ. Sorry about the mutt. Dealing with something for work..” 

Steve raised his eyes from the screen, eyebrows furrowed. “When was this posted?”

Peter swallowed before he replied. “About 20 minutes ago.”

Bucky turned to Steve. “Is that..?”

All Steve could do was growl, shoving the phone back at Peter. “Send that to me. Right now.” Steve reached for his own phone, heading out the door of his office towards the primary club facilities. Bucky was at his feet, asking what he could do to help. 

“Buck, call Kate. I need a timestamp for when Hercules was picked up.” 

Bucky nodded and tore off, phone to his ear. 

Steve called Clint directly. “Barton, I need your help.”

---

Kate confirmed you had picked up Hercules just before they closed. She didn’t notice anything concerning, aside from your general demeanor seeming quiet. 

Clint reviewed security footage outside your apartment building entrance, back door and lobby. No sign of you. It’s possible you had picked up your dog then gone elsewhere, but Steve wasn’t convinced. 

Fuck. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

Steve paced his office again and again, waiting desperately for some information. Peter and Thor had stolen off to a few well known bars to see if they could track down Walker or any of his friends. 

Clint had gone to your building to troll the neighborhood and seek out any additional video footage that might help. 

Steve called Vision to see if he could connect with Wanda to get some information about where you might be, without leading to anything especially suspicious. 

Steve needed to know where you were and if you were okay. Truthfully, he wouldn’t be able to settle until he knew you were safe - until he saw you himself. 

This was the fucking risk, wasn’t it? Letting you in. People were going to use your relationship against him. It was staring him right in the face all along. Fuck, how could he live with himself if you got hurt?

Steve let out a fit of rage that had been brewing within him. He grabbed the rocks glass off his desk, still half full of melting ice, and sent it flying into the back of his door. 

God fucking damnit. He didn’t like any of this. With no news from Vision and Wanda, his mind was going to bad places.

Steve stalked across the broken glass and threw his door open, grabbing his coat as he left. He found Bucky downstairs at the bar, phone in hand as Natasha leaned beside him. 

“Please tell me someone has some fucking news to share,” Steve growled out as he approached. He didn’t even have to ask Natasha to pour him a drink, as it quickly appeared on the bar. 

“No Walker sightings yet,” Bucky said as he glanced at his phone. As he turned the screen, a new message appeared. 

The text didn’t contain any information or words, just a simple location pin. Bucky tapped on it, revealing an address on the outskirts of Brooklyn. 

“Who sent that?” Steve asked, eyeing over Bucky’s shoulder as he drained his glass. 

“No clue. I don’t know the number.” Bucky replied quietly. “No message either. Just a thumbs up emoji. But the timing is suspect.”

Steve shook his head. What did he have to lose? “Let’s go. Have Sam meet us there.”

---

You should have worn more layers, warmer clothes. Not that you anticipated being abducted on your way home. But you trusted the warm fall morning and now all you had was regret. A thin sweater barely kept you covered and the looming thunder overhead meant the threat of rain was very real. 

Ward had dragged you up the barren staircases to the roof, where he had then removed one of your handcuffs only to attach it to some external pipe system that hugged the outside wall of the building. You could sit on the dirty cold roof or stand and try to peer down, but nothing else. You were stuck. 

When you tried to plead with Ward  for your escape, he only smirked then offered an alternative. 

“Tell you what - if you get on your knees for me, I’ll remove the handcuffs altogether.”

As an answer to that proposal, you spit in his face. He really didn’t like that - which left you pushed to the ground and cuffed with no coverage from wind or impending rain. God fucking damnit. 

Once Ward disappeared through the door again, you yelled for help. If it made any lick of difference, you had no idea. There was another building very close by, yelling distance at least. But it looked abandoned just the same. On the other side of the roof, it looked like an emergency staircase existed. 

Not like you’d be able to escape. You seemed very stuck.

Were they going to leave you out there all night? Was this some scare tactic? What did they want from you - a detailed breakdown of everything you knew about Steve? You couldn’t do that - you wouldn’t. Despite the ricochet of emotions you had been through with Steve, you still felt.. something to him. Be it loyalty or kindness or whatever, you couldn’t throw him under the bus. 

Steve was a good person. You saw that in him often. But these men? You weren’t so sure. 

What if they left you until you had to meet with Hammond? Ten hours in the cold and rain. You could survive that, maybe. Maybe. 

Thunder rumbled above you. Rain started to fall. 

Fuck. Maybe not. 

In an attempt to make yourself as small as possible, you sat against the side wall and wrapped your free arm around yourself. It didn’t do much to protect you from the rain, but it helped retain what little body heat you still had. 

You weren’t sure how long you sat in the rain before you heard the access door burst open. You looked up and braced yourself, but felt almost relieved to see it wasn’t Ward again. 

It was Castle. 

He hesitated when he saw you, then quickly hurried in your direction. 

You closed your eyes in a panic. “I’m sorry - I don’t have anything to share about Steve  - I can’t remember if there was—”

“Hey, hey. It’s okay. I’m not here about that.” Castle crouched down in front of you. “I can’t let you go but let me help, alright?” He reached into his pocket and took out what looked like a Swiss Army knife. “I’ll get out of these cuffs at least.”

You braced yourself as he gently touched your wrist, using his tool to work through the lock mechanism. “Thank you.. uhm, Mr. Castle?”

He chuckled, barely. “Frank.”

You nodded, grateful as he freed your hand and left the cuffs dangling. “Thank you, Frank.”

“Over there,” Frank turned his head and pointed to the middle of the roof, where a small maintenance structure stood. It had a sloping roof that could provide more coverage. “Go. You’ll be covered at least.”

Frank got to his feet and offered you his hand. Once you were standing, he shrugged off his own heavy coat and handed it to you. 

“Frank,” you clutched the coat and met his gaze, eyes blurring from the rain. “Can you just.. make sure my dog is okay? Hercules? He’s a lover, not a fighter. But he’s all I have and- and..”

Frank gave you a curt nod. “Go.” He motioned back to the small shed and you nodded too. 

You had no idea why Frank was helping you. But you decided it had to be a good sign, right?

---

Steve had no idea what he was walking into. He had done this before – going in blind to certain situations was the nature of his entire job. It wasn’t always possible to anticipate who he would run into, if the person he trusted would deliver, if weapons were involved. But given his state of mind and the all-consuming worry he had about your wellbeing; he didn’t really care what he was faced with.

He just needed to figure out where you were and ensure you were safe. 

The location that had been sent to Bucky was outside of Brooklyn, just barely. Along an industrial neighbourhood, where plenty of abandoned factories and distribution centers lived, the coordinates lead them to a nondescript building. 

Steve and Bucky climbed out of the car, strapped with more than enough guns and ammunition to fight their way through whatever and whoever they were about to face. As they approached, Sam jogged into view, too.

“Thor couldn’t find Walker anywhere,” Sam provided as an update once they were waiting outside. “But Peter’s little tech friend managed to track a location for some recent postings to this general area..”

“Sounds like a likely place to look,” Bucky concluded, raising an eyebrow as he glanced at Steve.

Steve took in a deep breath, eyebrows narrowed as he gazed at the doors ahead of him. Raising his hands, he tugged at the collar of his coat and smoothed it out before nodding. He was ready to deal with this.

“If she’s anywhere in here, her safety is priority, you understand?” Steve glanced from Bucky back to Sam, waiting for their own nod of understanding. “If anyone put her in danger, they’re going to pay. But not at her expense.”

Bucky pressed his knuckles into his metal palm, a coy smirk raising on his lips. “Here’s hoping I get to fuck up Walker’s face again.”

Sam took the lead and yanked the dilapidated entry door open, busting open the lock mechanism with little effort. The main level they entered on was mainly being used for vehicle parking and what looked like some storage. A staircase led up to the next level.

Steve carried on - striding to the top of the staircase and heading through the doors. The entire building was in bad shape but this wasn’t their first rodeo.

Someone was hiding out somewhere. And when he found them, it wasn’t going to be pretty. 

“Sam - call everyone to be standby, including Thor and his brother. Get Barton to scope out next door, too. Lots of windows for coverage, the rooftop. Remind him about the Bullseye protocol.” Steve ran a hand through his hair then glanced to his right, motioning to the far door with Bucky. “You’re with me.”

In a few long strides, Steve reached the door and waited. Then, he raised a hand and knocked against it. Bucky stood behind his left shoulder. 

Someone on the other side of the door was yelling, then eventually they heard heavy stomping as someone approached. When the door opened, Steve didn’t hesitate - he leaped forward and reached for the collar of whoever it was. 

Steve growled. Grant Ward.

“Oh Jesus fucking–” Ward yelped out, trying to pull away from Steve’s grasp as Steve backed him into the room. “Take it fucking easy, Rogers. What the fuck are you–”

“Where is she?” Steve’s voice boomed, holding Ward in his grip as he glanced around the room. It was a fairly sparse leftover office, but sitting at the end of the large boardroom table was Billy Russo, Frank Castle and Brock Rumlow himself. A few other nameless thugs waited behind them, guns at the ready. “Where IS SHE?”

Steve threw Ward to the ground, reaching for his gun as the men at the table stood up and drew their own weapons, too. Bucky followed in behind Steve and kicked Ward down when he tried to get back on his feet.

“Stay down,” Bucky said to Ward. 

Rumlow moved from his spot slowly, waving his gun around and placing it down on the table as he walked towards Steve. “Rogers.”

Steve didn’t respond, darting his eyes from Rumlow back to Russo and Castle at the table. Russo looked away, suddenly preoccupied with anything else but Steve. Castle, though, also put his gun away.

“Rumlow.” Steve growled out your name this time. “Where. Is. She?”

Brock smirked. “Who? Oh.. yes. Sure. We just met. As far as I know, you two aren’t together anymore. What’s the concern?”

“If you fucking touched her-” Steve raised his hand again, gun pointing directly at Rumlow as they stood apart. “Tell me where she is.”

“Me and Russo have been talking. I think the three of us could be working together better. If you haven’t been picking off my dealers one by one, the pot could be a lot sweeter.”

“You and your drugs aren’t worthy of Brooklyn.” Steve stepped forward. “Tell me.”

“You know, I didn’t want us to meet like this.” Rumlow brought his hands up, in a faux act of surrender then slowly moved one of them forward to encourage Steve to put his weapon down. “In fact, I went through a lot of trouble to keep your pretty face away from here.”

“Not much trouble, it seems. And it sounds like you have a mole,” Steve shot back, sparing a quick glance back around the room. Russo looked away again but Steve met Castle’s eyes for a beat, then turned back to Rumlow. “Loyalty is rare around these parts.”

“Speaking of loyalty - your girl.” Rumlow stepped back and let out a long breath.

Steve matched him and stepped forward, raising his gun up once more. “If you laid one fucking hand on her–”

“I’ll tell you where she is after we chat, alright? I need a promise from you - to share the territory.”

Steve huffed, lips pursed as he scanned Rumlow’s face. “Tell me where she is.” Steve could hear Bucky shuffling behind him, metal fist clenched, growing just as impatient as Steve was. 

“Nah.” Rumlow shrugged, glancing around the room. “If you won’t negotiate, my lips are sealed. I still need her, gotta clear something up with the cops. Then, I don’t know. I guess she’s nice enough on the eyes, bit thicker than what I usually go for but maybe I’ll get her to warm my bed for a–”

Steve wasn’t an idiot. Rumlow was baiting him. And god fucking damnit it worked. Steve surged ahead, letting out another growl of rage as he attacked Rumlow with his fists.

On the other side of the room, Ward slid over to kick against Bucky’s knee - angering Bucky all the same. Sam rushed in to join them at the first sound of chaos. It wasn’t quite contained and really, it didn’t come as a surprise that everyone in the room was more than prepared for a fight. Rumlow’s extra lackeys seemed more than charged enough for the action. Bucky easily took care of Ward on his own, as Sam darted between helping Steve with Rumlow and the others as Russo tried to keep his distance. 

“Where is she?” Steve had Rumlow on the ground, pummeling his fists into Rumlow’s jaw. He didn’t get a response, as the sound of gunshots sounded out, ending with shards of glass flying across the floor. In a brief moment of hesitation after, Steve took in the rest of the room. 

Russo had slipped out. Castle too. 

“Sam!” Steve stood quickly, keeping his foot against Rumlow’s neck. 

Sam hurried over and tagged in as Steve rushed through the door to follow where the other two had gone. Running towards the staircase, he looked upwards and could hear the distinct sound of hurrying feet and the slamming of a metal door.

He bounded up the stairs towards the roof.

---

The rain continued to fall, although it had at least slowed down to a cool drizzle. It didn’t mean much since you were already soaking wet, though the coat from Castle had helped. It hadn’t really fit you but the extra layer kept you marginally more comfortable, despite the fatigue and hunger setting in. Was anyone else going to check on you? Would Castle come back to help?

Did.. did Steve know what was going on? Although - how would he even find out? Fuck, you kept going over everything again and again and again. The steps you took today, the conversation you had with Sarah a few weeks ago, Steve’s last words to you at your apartment…

You wish things had gone differently. Maybe in a different life or timeline, it might have all worked out.

Gunshots.

You could hear gunshots from somewhere nearby. Downstairs in the building, maybe. Truthfully, at least up on the roof, you were away from the reality of this situation - that these people had guns and clearly weren’t afraid to use them. Up there, in the rain, you could ignore all of that.

But no, here was the glaring reminder. A few more shots sounded out then it seemed to stop. You tried to keep ignoring it, laying your back flat against the wall of the structure until you heard the door open again. You couldn’t even bring yourself to look until you heard someone barking out your name. This time the voice belonged to Russo.

A set of footsteps tracked further onto the roof, but you held your safe position. Russo finally appeared ahead of you, a scowl etched on his face. “I thought Ward tied you up. Whatever, let’s go.” He grabbed your closest wrist, urging you away from your hiding space. You tried to yank yourself away.

“Please, I don’t want to-”

“Bill - come on, can’t we just drop all this?” Frank came into your eyeline next, looking you over quickly then back towards the door. “Rogers isn’t dumb, he’ll follow us up here anyway.”

Your heart jumped at Steve’s name. He was here, he was going to get you away from this.

Russo’s grip tightened on your wrist, though he turned to look at Frank. “The plan remains the same - we need her to talk to Hammond so Rogers can land some jail time. It’s the only way we can get ahead.”

Frank let out a noncommittal sigh. “Rumlow is a fuckin’ idiot. You don’t think his plan is to screw us over later too?”

“I don’t give a shit about that right now,” Russo growled, looking back towards you. “Let’s go.”

Frank hesitated again, but didn’t argue any further. You pleaded again as they took you to the far side of the roof, where the emergency fire escape stairs were. Russo let you go momentarily as he stalked over, peering down towards the stairs. 

“They should hold up, I hope” he said with a shrug, motioning his head for you to go. “Ladies first.”

You shook your head, taking a step back and glancing towards the door instead. “No, I..” You turned on your heel.

A gunshot sounded out behind you, loud and piercing. You screamed, eyes wide as you turned back. Russo was scowling again, holding his gun high as he shot it upwards into the sky. He lowered it slowly, pointing it at you directly instead. If that wasn’t enough of a warning. “Down you go. Now.” 

You glanced at Frank, who remained completely stoic as he looked between you and Russo. 

Suddenly, the door flew open again. You all turned to look.

A wave of relief flooded through you - it was Steve. He called your name as he walked towards you, never breaking his eye contact with you. In an instant, all your worries and doubts and everything seemed to shatter as he looked at you with such gentleness and grace.

Russo let out a hard laugh, waving his gun for a brief moment before aiming it back at you. “No time for your cute reunion. Let us walk away, Rogers.”

“Sweetheart,” Steve didn’t even bother replying to Russo, though he did stop in his tracks when he realized Russo had a gun pointed at you. But, Steve carried on, repeating your name. “Are you okay?”

You swallowed hard, jaw shaking as you nodded. 

Steve softened, for a fraction of a second. You knew he could tell you weren’t being honest. But what were you supposed to do? You were a hostage, soaking wet on a roof, with a gun pointed in your direction - no, you were not okay.

You watched as Steve transformed again, soft eyes replaced by hard lines, a tight jaw. He finally broke your gaze and turned his attention to Russo and Castle. “Let her go and we’ll all walk away from this unscathed.”

A loud laugh escaped Russo. “Right. I don’t think so. We’re walking away from this with the leverage we need.”

You watched as Steve took in a deep breath, then reluctantly put his hands up. “What do you want, Russo? Money, territory, names? What? I’ll give you whatever you want - just put your gun down and let her go.”

“You think I’m an idiot?” Russo shook his head. “No, I’m not playing this game.”

“This isn’t a fucking game,” Steve continued, reaching his hand slowly for his gun. He raised it up then just as quickly tossed it behind himself. “Please, Bill. Just leave her out of this.” 

“Billy..” Frank finally spoke up too. “Let’s call it, okay? Sounds like Rogers is willing to talk and–”

“No.” Russo took a step closer to you, gun firm in hand. “No, we’re going to–”

Before you realized what was happening, you weren’t even standing on your own two feet anymore. A flurry of noises rang out around you - screaming, gunshots, shouting. Someone had wrapped their arms around you – you fell towards the ground – you landed on.. Steve. It was Steve.

He had run towards you in the action, caging you in his arms as you both landed on the rooftop together. Safe. Alive. Steve shielded you with his own body from the noise and chaos happening around you. You didn’t know who had been shooting who, if anyone escaped or made it down the fire escape. All you knew is that you were safe, in Steve’s arms.

Steve was whispering out your name, again and again, like some sort of prayer on his lips. His words were wrapped in apologies, in cries for your safety, in hushed words that begged for reassurance. As everything else seemed to quiet down, he gently pushed himself up to peer down at you. 

“Sweetheart, I’m so–”

“Steve, it’s okay. I’m okay.. I’m..c-cold.” 

He shook his head and quickly shifted again, standing up and helping you back to your feet, too. He shrugged off his own jacket and draped it over you. Slowly, he raised his hand and slid it down the side of your face, wiping away stray droplets of water with his thumb. His palm was warm against your cheek, you could feel his whole heart pulsing as he held you. 

“I’m sorry, baby. I’m–”

“Steve!” Bucky’s voice broke you both from the spell. Steve reluctantly looked away from you, pivoting slightly as he looked towards Bucky running in their direction. Across the roof, both Frank and Russo were on their knees, hands wrapped behind their backs.  A makeshift bandage was wrapped around one of Russo’s biceps.

Wait, had someone shot him? It couldn’t have been Steve, he had put his gun down. Would Frank have..

Bucky leaned in slightly and mumbled into Steve’s ear, then they both looked across the roof towards the adjacent building. Bucky waved in that direction and Steve nodded, then they both turned back to you.

Before Steve could say anything else, you reached for his shirt. “Steve - you..we need to find Hercules. They said.. They..” You closed your eyes tight, head shaking as you tried to form your words. “They were going to take him somewhere to fight. I don’t know if..”

Bucky stood up tall again. He said your name firm, like a promise. “I’ll find him.”

As Bucky left, Steve wrapped his arms around you again - tighter this time. With one hand, he secured your back and the other cradled your head against his chest. He didn’t say anything and you couldn’t find any words either. 

---

You were back at Steve’s apartment. You thought you’d never see those big windows overlooking Brooklyn ever again and yet, there you were. Safe.

Safe and warm, following a long shower in Steve’s guest bathroom. Stripping away your damp clothes and stealing away into the stream for longer than probably necessary had been a nice escape. Especially given that Steve had driven you back to his place in silence - though it wasn’t as awkward as before. It just felt like maybe there were things you both needed to say but couldn’t bring yourself to mention yet.

Before you had left the building earlier, Steve hadn’t let you leave his sight. Well, except for about ten minutes where Bucky hovered over you instead.

Steve brought you inside, back downstairs to that same boardroom and office space. But this time, you weren’t faced with bad guys with guns. Well, the bad guys remained but the guns were gone.

All four of them were bound and seated at a chair. Ward’s head was lolled to the side, Brock had a bloody face, Russo and Castle were mostly left without much damage. But you had a feeling that wasn’t going to last.

Steve squeezed your hand, gently turning you away from looking at them. 

“Hey,” he said quietly, tipping your chin up with his thumb. “Can you tell me what happened? What they did?”

You swallowed hard, eyes wide for a moment as you considered his question. What was he going to do?

“Don’t overthink it, okay? Just tell me what you think I should know.”

You let out a breath then recounted everything. Ward ambushing you on the sidewalk, Brock threatening you, Russo joining in…

“But Frank he..” You finally spared a glance over your shoulder. Frank sat up straight in his chair, resigned to whatever fate awaited him. “He helped me. Tried to protect me, gave me his coat..”

Steve nodded, looking in Frank’s direction the same way. Steve called for Sam, then gave him another nod and Sam went to untie Frank from his chair. 

It was only a few moments later that Bucky showed up with Hercules, who - thank god - looked unharmed, if a little worked up. You couldn’t help but start to cry as you broke away from Steve and rushed to your son. 

But, It wasn’t lost on you how quickly Bucky led you away from the room with your dog. Or how the door shut behind you, leaving Steve and Sam in there with the rest of the men, the overlapping sounds and sounds of distress…

When you finally decided you had wasted enough water and regained all the proper feeling in your body, you shut off the water and let out a long sigh. Outside on the counter, folded neatly beside your warm towel, was some clothes you had left at Steve’s ages ago. Soft and clean layers to keep your temperature steady as you got ready for bed.

You supposed it was a choice you made - agreeing to go home with Steve instead of back to your own apartment. But you knew you wouldn’t be able to sleep there - not tonight. And you knew Steve would insist on staying and keeping guard outside your door anyway. So it made more sense this way.

After you changed, you found Hercules waiting for you in the hallway. You could hear Steve in the living room, speaking quite passionately on his end of a phone call.

“Jim, this is the only deal I’m making. Proof of your dirty cop aside, I’m handing you Rumlow alive on a silver platter, even though I should have let him bleed out. So you have to do this for me. I don’t give a fuck about protocol..” There was a heavy pause. “Every instance of her name on any police report - gone. I don’t want her attached to any of it, do you understand? No trace of her. I don’t care - redact it or burn it. Get that done and I’ll deliver Rumlow to you in the morning. Understood?” 

You knew you probably shouldn’t be listening, but it was your name he was mentioning.

“As for Russo, I’m dealing with that myself. But keep him on your radar. If you need another arrest to clench your win, you can have him once I’m done.”

You quietly slipped into the guest bedroom once you realized his call had ended. Once Hercules followed you in, you shut the door. Fuck. What happened now? Maybe you and Steve needed to talk about all of this - you definitely needed to talk about it.

You heard footsteps coming down the hallway towards the bedrooms and Steve stopped outside your door. You held your breath, wondering if he would say your name or knock. But - nothing. His phone buzzed again and he disappeared into his bedroom.

With a heavy sigh, you leaned against the door. 

---

Mentally, Steve was exhausted.

Physically, his energy peaked in the midst of the action and hadn’t seemed to peter off yet. 

You were safe, you were safe, you were safe.

Why couldn’t he calm down? You were one wall away, falling asleep. Safe. He got to you before anything critical happened. Christ, nothing should have happened in the first place.

Following his long frustrating phone call with Rhodes, he wanted to talk to you. He wanted to say everything that was weighing down his heart - but your door was closed and he couldn’t even find it in himself to knock.

You were probably even angrier with him than before - given that this was all his fault. But that was fine with him. He could deal with your anger if that meant you had any feelings towards him left. Anger counted.

He rinsed off in the shower then pulled on a pair of pajama pants before falling into bed, not that he was tired. His brain was wired and maybe an allnighter was in his future. 

Steve sent off a few last messages to Bucky and Sam, then discarded his phone on the nightstand. He leaned back against the headboard and–

There was a knock at his bedroom door. You were knocking. He swung his legs off the bed and hurried to open the door, just as you were about to push it open yourself.

“Hi,” you said quietly, meeting his eyes in the low light streaming in from his lamp.

“Are you okay?” Steve asked, scanning you for any signs of distress.

You shrugged, drawing in a deep breath. Then Steve took a step back, waving his arm to invite you in. You released your lungs slowly, nodding and following him inside. Wordlessly, he climbed into the bed and offered the open blanket to you, arms wide. You just nodded again, crawling in and finding a spot - your spot - underneath his arms.

---

The apartment offer had really sent you further into the depth of it - considering you knew you’d be stupid not to take the new apartment. But the fact that Steve had taken it upon himself to either come over every night until you moved, or invited you and Hercules to his place, or called you and stayed on the line until you fell asleep - how could you not be head over heels for the man?

You were trying to stay level headed and calm about the whole thing. Trying and failing, really. Because you knew that if you spent a few extra moments to use your rational brain, some things about Steve and his lifestyle did not align with yours even a bit. Despite that, you remained vigilant on the task at hand and decided that ignoring everything else for the time being was your best bet.

“Hang out?” You leaned against your kitchen counter, taking in your half emptied cupboards. Truthfully, you were tired of packing and had made a lot of progress already. Plus, you’d managed to take a few days off work coming up to aid in your apartment transition. “Where are you?”

“At the club. Can you come hang out?” 

You laughed to yourself. “Shield is open on Tuesday nights?”

“For the owner, it’s always open.” Steve’s voice grew softer, quieter. “I want to see you, baby. Please?”

You were falling hard.

 --- 

At first, you were relieved that your landlord agreed to your quick release from your agreement - but it barely left you with enough time to pack and get your shit together. 

Now that your week was over and your life was mostly packed away into boxes, you could see the exciting next steps occurring. Steve had arranged a few people to help you move, you had a whole new apartment to decorate, and your mom was coming to visit at the end of your week off. Those were all promising, exciting things.

With a final over dramatic sigh, you flopped down on your bed and reached for your phone. Your entire night had been consumed by packing up your bedroom and you’d been desperately waiting to hear something from Steve. Anything would do, really.

You hadn’t seen him since earlier that week when you had ventured to see him at the club. What you had pictured as a quiet little evening with him had actually been much more - considering you showed up and it seemed like his entire close circle of friends were at the bar too. Though they kept their work related talk clipped and quiet, you had a feeling those sorts of evenings weren’t all that rare.

Everyone you met had been very friendly, at least. It was a bit intimidating to walk in and have to meet so many new faces, but you had a feeling this was a rare occurrence - Steve bringing in someone for them to get familiar with.

You could see it especially in the way he blushed at Sam and Bucky’s commentary and in the way he kept a protective hand on you as you sat at the bar and talked with Nat, who described herself as Steve’s ‘real right hand woman’ and Yelena, who managed bar operations at the club. When Kate showed up and saddled up beside her girlfriend Yelena, you could see Steve’s shining grin as you filled Kate in on your dreams to open an animal rescue in the future.

It was nice. But you had secretly been hoping for some time with just Steve.

For a reason you couldn’t quite pinpoint, you and Steve still hadn’t escalated the physical side of things beyond making out. Even when you woke up in bed together with his very obvious morning excitement, attempts to go just a bit further always fell away. 

It didn’t make much sense - beyond the physical signs, Steve’s words were often flirty and edging well beyond appropriate language. 

Unfortunately, as much as you could rationalize the pace, it was really making an impact on your sanity and self-esteem. Maybe Steve just wasn’t attracted to you. 

S Rogers [8:33PM]: have you eaten dinner? Can i bring some thai food over? S Rogers [8:34PM]: I can help you finish packing? You [8:37PM]: I’ve given up on packing but yes to thai food!! ty :)

Maybe he just wasn’t interested in you that way. 

Maybe he was seeing someone else, too. You’d never discussed anything about exclusivity and maybe it was too soon for that and and maybe-

Maybe.. Augh, you had to stop yourself from spiraling.

Selfishly, you had never been so attracted to another person and you wanted to indulge. You wanted to feel Steve’s hands all over your body, feel his lips explore beyond your neckline, see every detail of those tattoos on his chest. 

You wanted Steve, all of him.

A knock at the door and an additional buzz from your phone let you know Steve had arrived. You stood from the bed and pulled yourself together. You had long since changed from your work clothes into a pair of athletic shorts and a tank top, mostly to avoid overheating as you packed and cleaned the space.

Truthfully, your anxiety about Steve would typically convince you to cover up with a sweater, as a layer of protection from any sign of rejection, but with an insane urge of courage, you just powered on ahead and headed towards the door to let him in.

What was it Claire had said to you? To stop playing it safe, to take a leap of faith?

“Hey!” You greeted him with a big smile as you opened the door, stepping out of the way so he could come inside. Beyond his full arms of - oh god, he was in another blue suit. This one was much less formal than the first you had seen him in, lacking both a vest and button up underneath. Instead, the dark blue sports coat matched his slacks over a plain white t-shirt. Once again, you found yourself staring at the tattoos peeking out near the neckline.

You watched him swallow and hinge his jaw slightly, matching your grin. 

“Hi.” Steve came in quickly, shutting the door and side stepping most of your boxes. “You’ve been productive.”

“I am so ready to move on from here,” you admitted, leading him towards the kitchen where he unloaded the bag from his arms. “My shower hasn’t had hot water in days.”

“I’m relieved you’ll be out of here, too,” Steve replied, shaking his head firmly as he unpacked the bags. “I wasn’t sure what your spring roll preference would be so I–” As he turned back to look at you, Steve trailed off, eyebrow raised as he caught your stare from across the room. “Are you okay?”

You took in a deep breath, squeezing your eyes shut as you went ahead and bit the bullet. “I just need to be straightforward and ask you something, alright? Are you seeing anyone else?”

Steve’s eyes blew out wide for a brief moment before narrowing again, tipping his head curiously as he watched you. “What? No.”

“I know we haven’t discussed like, dating or what we are to each other, it’s probably way too early for that but I.. we haven’t had sex yet and I was thinking maybe it’s because you’re with someone else too and you don’t want to be with me and–”

“Oh no, it’s not that at all, I swear.” With a slow breath, Steve leaned against the counter and dragged one hand behind his neck.

You swallowed hard and watched him closely. Oh god, he was either going to let you down easy or.. Wait. You let him collect himself, because if you were reading him correctly… The man was nervous. Were you making him nervous? 

You were making Steve Rogers nervous. Damn.

He cleared his throat, clutching the countertop behind his hips with tight fists. “Listen, I don’t do this. I don’t date or - or pace myself, very often. But with you, with this..” His teeth grazed over his bottom lip carefully. “I guess I don’t know what it is yet - what we’re doing here, what you want–”

You prayed for guidance and wisdom and forgiveness from anyone who might be listening, because when the words finally escaped the back of your throat, you had no idea what you were in for. With a sharp inhale, you cut him off. “You, Steve. I want you.”

Steve took that as permission enough, propelling himself forward. His hands flew up to your face, holding you steady as he crashed into you, his lips studying yours with unquestionable promise. 

Your hunger matched his - as your own hands grabbed onto his waist, pulling him even closer. And when his hips pushed against yours, a groan sounded off within him. From deep in his chest, it reverberated into your own. With one hand, he moved to cradle the back of your neck and when he -

“Oh, fuck.” You gasped as he fisted at your hair, exposing your neck as his lips and tongue continued their journey of exploration. “Steve..”

This man already had you whimpering. 

He released his hand and moved back slightly, peering down at you, barely hiding his smirk as evidence of his affect on you showed on your face. Your warm cheeks, deep breathing, swollen lips. 

“Are you okay? Is this okay?” One of his hands returned to your cheek, dragging his thumb down and across your lips. “Because I’ve wanted to do this for weeks now, wanted to know what you taste like and how to make you whimper and shake and..”

All you could do was nod, opening your mouth slightly as he pressed his thumb against your tongue. As if testing the waters, he pressed it just further and your mouth closed around it. 

“Oh, sweetheart - I’m going to ruin you. You gonna let me?” 

You batted your eyelashes and nodded hard as he slowly removed his thumb. “Yes. Yes please.”

Suddenly, the chaos and disarray of your entire apartment was gone. Your bedroom especially was a mixture of half packed boxes and clothes, though that was the last thing on your mind as Steve guided you towards your bed. Effortlessly, without even breaking away from your mouth. 

His lips ravaged yours - like every single opportunity to taste you and feel your tongue was something he needed to savor. You couldn’t hold back though - letting your hands roam all over his body, pushing away his suit jacket. He tossed it down on the ground and you pulled back. 

“Wait - do you need to hang that up?” 

Steve raised his eyebrows, a playful smirk growing across his face. “You think you’re funny, huh?”

You matched his grin, toying with the buttons on his shirt. “You’re clearly a suit guy. I can only imagine your dry cleaning bill and–”

He cut you off with another kiss, hands scrambling to caress the smooth fabric of your shorts against your skin. And then his hands stopped, snaking beneath the waistline and firmly gripping your backside.

“Fuck,” he hissed out, growling against your neck. “I have been dying to touch you, sweetheart. This fucking ass..”

Your responding laugh caught in your throat when he let go briefly, only to grip you again with even more force. Steve was an ass man, good to know.

“Okay, I’ve gotta have you..” He quickly pulled your tanktop up and over your head, then nudged you back on the bed. 

You thought you’d be nervous - finally being exposed to Steve like this, almost entirely naked under the terrible lights of your bedroom. But instead you felt excited and, well, safe. Because the way he was looking down at you as he undressed, a look that was crossed between carnal rage and admiration, you knew it would be okay. That Steve wanted to be there, in that exact moment the same way you wanted to. 

All your maybes floated away.

You reached behind your back to unhook your bra and started on the waistband of your shorts next, but Steve stopped you. 

“No, I want to..” He let out a deep exhale as he joined you on the bed, left in just his own boxer briefs. He dragged his hand across his mouth, grinning as he scanned over you. “Damn.”

You propped yourself up on your elbows, fighting off the urge to shy away from his stare. His own body was impressive, to say the least. He couldn’t hide his tight muscles under his clothes but finally seeing them, seeing how his skin was littered with tattoos, how the gold chain around his neck rested against his chest - damn was right.

Steve crawled up towards you, laying at your side, hands gripping your hips as he pulled you in close. His lips went to work again, ravaging your neck with a series of wet kisses until he got to your shoulder. His teeth grazed your skin as one hand came up to your chest. 

You didn’t waste time either, trying to focus as he explored your skin. You reached down and pressed your hand against his box briefs, eliciting a deep rumble from his chest as you palmed his length. He was hard already and you couldn’t wait to get your hands on him.

“Fuck..” You couldn’t help but beam as Steve took in a sharp breath, promptly dropping his hand to stop yours. “If you..” He stopped himself again and closed his eyes. “I’m trying to pace myself, sweetheart.” Before you could even argue, he was adjusting to lay you flat against the bed. With one elbow he propped himself beside you, while the other continued to explore.

Steve was thorough and thank god for that. Both his lips and his fingertips found places on your skin you weren’t certain another person had touched before - the delicate skin between your breasts, the nape of your neck, every inch of your soft stomach. Every decision seemed intentional, calculated - as if he wanted to savour every second and capture every piece of you in his mind forever.

You were lost in a state of mind you hadn’t succumbed to for a long time. A swirling mixture of excitement and nerves washed over you as he inched closer and closer to your waistline. 

“I wanna see you come, baby,” he spoke slowly, cautiously tugging on the edge of your underwear. 

You met his eyes, sensing he was asking for permission, checking in to make sure you were okay. You nodded quickly, chewing on your lip in anticipation. “Yes, please.”

He was off like a mad man, grinning as you lifted your hips and he peeled away your underwear. And when he grazed his fingers across you, against your slick, he didn’t waste anymore time. 

It echoed in the back of your mind that Steve had mentioned he didn’t do this, he didn’t date but damnit, he clearly knew what he was doing. While his fingers circled your clit, he watched you closely - as if part of his strategy was catching every clue you gave him to ensure maximum satisfaction.

And when you gasped –

“Right here, baby? Is this good? Are you gonna come for me?” He didn’t relent as you grabbed the sheets at your side, bucking your hips into his hand as he worked. “Look at me, look at me baby. I want to see you come.”

You were nearly panting as you finally looked up at him, catching the biggest grin on his face as his ministrations continued. He played you expertly through your climax, whimpering out his name as he carried on, slipping a finger into you as you shook. 

The man certainly had a strategy now. You were literally putty in his hands, shaking again and again as he laid his entire palm flat against you, working both your clit and reaching for that secret spot inside you too. 

“Again, baby. Come on.” He dipped down this time, lips finding yours in a fervor you hadn’t ever experienced before. “You’re so beautiful, sweetheart. Fuck, I could watch you forever..”

He relented soon enough, when you clamped your hand on his to finally slow it down. Your head was spinning still, almost completely forgetting you were in your mess of an apartment with this adonis of a man grinning in pride at your side. And shit, this was still just the foreplay.

“That was..” You stuttered, reaching a hand up to pull him closer. “..thank you.”

“My pleasure,” he returned with a laugh, finally leading his hand away from you. And then he even had the audacity to lick his fingers clean and you nearly died all over again. 

“I can.. If you want me to or we can..condoms..” You nudged your head to the side table. “Top drawer.”

Steve was grinning again, hurrying to shake off his boxers and hover above you before reaching towards the table. You propped yourself up on your elbows and watched as he grabbed from the drawer, although your eyes grew wide when you considered that he might find your–

“Oh  - and what is this?” 

“A girl has needs, okay?” You swatted at his hand as he gripped your vibrator. “Steve, there are more important matters at hand here..”

When he clicked the bottom button of your bullet vibe, you nearly died.

“Small and mighty,” he muttered out, licking his lips momentarily before returning it to the drawer. “We’re using that next time too.”

Your mouth dropped open at his casual, authoritative tone. “Okay.. yeah, we should.”

“That’s my girl,” Steve laughed in agreement, kneeling beside you on the bed as he put on the condom. “Ride me, baby?”

Under typical circumstances, it wasn’t your ideal way to start a sexual relationship with a person. It had taken you some time to feel comfortable on top and although you did love how it felt, the angle and position of your body often left you feeling a bit insecure. But then you considered the situation - here was Steve, laying down on your bed, hard and ready to have sex with you. Clearly he didn’t give a shit about what your body looked like - or even better, maybe he enjoyed it. 

“Baby, please. I want to feel you.” 

All it took was him licking his lips and you were decided. 

In an attempt at being graceful, you straddled him and angled yourself above him. Lord, the man was certainly blessed physically - from his broad shoulders to his tight waist to his cock, he lived up to his Big Dick Energy. And shit, as you sunk down - you were nearly ready to come again already.

“All the way, sweetheart.” Steve was already breathless as he gripped your hips, bucking his own up gently to elicit a moan from you. “I swear you were made for me.”

You were beginning to think the same thing. 

You did your best to start slow, adjusting to his size as you moved on top of him. But Steve really couldn’t hold back, apparently. He guided you to control the pace and it didn’t take him long to really take the lead. 

You folded yourself down and pressed your lips to him, as he pistoned his hips upwards into you. Christ, you were done for in moments - between his controlled thrusts and the way he was whispering into your ear, another orgasm crashed through you. 

“I want you, baby. Since the moment I saw you, since you crashed into me, I’ve wanted this.” He cradled you against him, soft flesh against the strong build of his own chest. And finally, finally, you could feel it coursing through your bodies - the same energy, the same connection, the same longing that finally spilled over. Whatever was stirring your heart and mind and soul, it seemed to match Steve too. 

With another rush of thrust, Steve reached his own peak, letting out a feral groan as he shook. 

“Thank the universe for giving me you, baby.”

 -- 

Although moving was always a tumultuous process, you were so grateful for your mother and her innate ability to organize your life. She ventured into the city to help you get set up in your new place and it had been beyond helpful - the time with your mom was exactly what you needed.

“So, when do I get to meet him?” Your mom finally asked the question you knew she had been dying to ask. Throughout your entire last few days, from unpacking the rest of your boxes and bins to rearranging your closet to shopping for a new couch - you just knew it had been on the tip of her tongue. In all honesty, you had been surprised she had waited so long to let it out.

You took a step away from your bookcase, casting a smile her way as she stacked a few plates into your cupboard. “Mom.”

“What? I’m not an idiot, love,” your mom replied, matching your pose with a hand on her hip. “Some generous friend of yours gets you a deal on an apartment, sends you flowers twice since you've moved in a week ago, makes you smile throughout the day as you check your phone..”

“I just.. We…” You sighed, scrunching up your face and taking a few steps towards her. “Mom, I like him so much. After I moved in and everything was a mess he packed a whole picnic lunch to eat on the floor with me, using a box as a table. A picnic, mom! I mean, most of it was straight from the deli down the block but..” With a heavy sigh, you closed your eyes. “I don’t know if it’s going to last. We’re very different in a lot of ways.” You leaned against the counter, letting out a long breath. Truthfully, it was the first time you admitted that out loud. And it scared you.

You liked Steve - a lot. More than you could remember ever feeling for someone else before. At first, you worried it might be some strange puppy love infatuation. But the more you actually got to know Steve, the more your heart felt knotted up in your chest. 

And god, the sex. You didn’t have the heart to tell your Mom that just days ago Steve had you pressed up against those exact kitchen counters she was unpacking on.

“Different isn’t necessarily bad,” your mom finally replied, with one of those knowing sort of nods. “Especially if the foundation is good, the big stuff and the long term - if those can align, different can survive, I think.”

You smiled. “Yeah, maybe. I’m just trying to… be realistic.” 

You were plagued with doubt in the back of your mind - not because of Steve, necessarily. But because you weren’t a stranger to blind trust and pain, both you and your mother had experienced that enough when your dad left. Didn’t your mom think their foundation had been good?

“Love,” your mom took a step forward and grabbed your nearest hand. “Don’t stress about it too much, okay? But if you’re too cautious, you’re going to miss out on a lot.” You knew she was speaking from experience and god, that broke your heart. “Now, I will drop the topic for the time being but I think I deserve to see a photo of him at least. The Mom tax.” Her eyes dropped to her watch. “Oh, I’ve gotta get going soon.”

“Maybe a photo,” you nodded with her. That seemed like enough of a compromise. “Herc needs some air - we’ll walk you.”

Your mom was capitalizing on her trip to the city and managed to book a coffee catch up date with an old friend and honestly, you were grateful for it. You appreciated every reminder that your mom was doing okay on her own these days.

The cafe was just a few blocks away, tucked between a little bistro Steve had actually taken you to a few days ago and.. 

“Mom,” you paused at the crosswalk, gripping Hercules’ leash as you turned your head and grabbed your mom’s attention. “Did you tell me who you're meeting for coffee?”

“No, I don’t know if I did,” she replied with a shrug. “Last month an old classmate of mine from college reached out to check in, see how life is, how work is going. When I told her I was coming to the city, she insisted we grab a coffee if time permitted.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, proceeding across the street and turning down toward the cafe. 

“What?” Your mom let out an excited greeting as she pointed ahead on the street and waved. “There's Sarah!” You both looked ahead and sitting outside the cafe was your mom’s college classmate Sarah Rogers and, well, her son Steve.

“Well, remember how I just said I might show you a picture of the mystery guy? Turns out you do get to meet him..” You recalled what Steve had told you when you had talked the day before, that he was busy with work and was having breakfast with his mom and when you approached them, exchanging hellos and hugs, you met his eyes with a coy smile.

“I swear I didn’t put two and two together until this morning,” he said quietly as you broke from your hug.

“What a small world!” Your mother exclaimed, gratefully telling Steve her preferred coffee order as he excused himself inside to get the drinks. “What are the chances?”

“This is all because of your lovely daughter,” Sarah offered you a smile and reached across the table to grab your hand. “Did she tell you how she saved my Steve’s life?”

“What? No, she has been quite tight-lipped about all of this, actually.” 

You really wanted to jump in and stop the whole thing from unraveling, but you knew there wasn’t a chance in hell you could stop two proud mothers from doting over their children. 

When Steve came back outside, he handed off a coffee to your mother and your preferred beverage to you, then politely suggested leaving your mothers to catch up. You were quick to agree, telling your own mom she could message you later when she’s back at your apartment.

Steve grabbed Hercules’ leash and you all headed for a walk to a nearby park, instead.

“Was it too soon to introduce you to my mom?” You nudged him with your elbow, garnering a laugh from him.

“Sweetheart, you met my mom twenty minutes after meeting me. I think it’s okay.”  

 -- 

Steve’s gallery wasn’t very large but still felt impressive, not that you had much experience when it came to art. But the walls were covered in beautiful canvases with incredulous price tags, you had a hard time even breathing near some of the pieces.

When Steve had first invited you to accompany him to an event at the gallery, you had been nervous. And when you realized it was a private fundraising party for a mayoral candidate, packed full of expensive suits and names you recognized from news media and social scenes in the city, your nerves had escalated to near panic.

Luckily, Steve had insisted you invite a friend and Wanda had been more than willing to be your safety for the evening. Wanda had been especially excited to be the first of your friends to meet Steve, too. And you were grateful to have her at your side, considering you had barely seen Steve since you had arrived with him earlier.

Although maybe it was better this way, because you both really needed to cool off. When you made it to Steve’s apartment earlier, full of apologies for running late, you worried you’d upset him by your tardiness. But the moment you stepped through his door in your sparkling cocktail dress, which flattered you in the exact way that made you feel sexy, it seemed all your concerns about Steve’s reaction had disappeared.

And when he fell to his knees and shoved your dress out of his way, you knew being late was not an issue. Steve made sure you knew exactly how he felt about your dress and your body, very thoroughly.

“What are we looking for?” Wanda tipped her head to the side, grabbing your hand and sliding through the crowd to stop in front of another canvas. She raised her glass and took a sip from her cocktail, letting out a slow exhale. 

“Steve told me that somewhere in here is a painting of his..” You trailed off, craning your neck to look for him in the crowd. You were trying not to feel weird about this whole thing - the room full of beautiful, powerful people talking to your man.

Your man. Well, Steve wasn’t yours. Not really. You still hadn’t discussed all that but you knew you were sort of exclusive, or at least he wasn’t dating anyone else. But who was that blonde woman talking to him? 

“Oh my god. Is that Tony Stark?” 

All your thoughts came to a halt when you followed Wanda’s wide eyes. Yes, that was Tony Stark and did he just–

“Oh my god. He just hugged Steve? Your boyfriend knows Tony Stark?”

You shook away Wanda’s hand as she grabbed your wrist. “Steve isn’t my..” It wasn’t long before Steve caught your eye, noticing both you and Wanda staring from across the crowd. You watched as he ducked his head and whispered something to Sam, who had been flanking his right side. 

Moments later, Sam was heading towards you and Wanda. 

“Hey - there’s someone Steve wants you to meet,” Sam said, motioning his hand back towards the center of the room. 

You knew this whole event was important to Steve, given the sheer volume of donations rolling in for James Rhodes and how his campaign was already stirring up news headlines. You hadn’t seen this side of Steve before, the work mode where business related things were of the utmost importance. 

Honestly, you were still actively ignoring the mystery that was Steve’s job. Guns, hushed conversations, late night work meetings - none of those added up to anything particularly savoury. It was better to remain ignorant, if a little naive. Just a little while longer…

“And why can’t Steve summon us himself?” Wanda giggled, proudly placing a hand on her hip as she finished off her cocktail. 

You smirked. “That’s a great point.”

Sam just laughed and lifted his hands, innocent despite his task at hand. “The man is busy kissing ass. Don’t kill the messenger.” 

You let out a dramatic sigh and pointed ahead. “Fine. Lead the way, Sam.”

You grabbed Wanda’s hand, following Sam through the crowd of people until you met up with Steve and his circle. Very quickly one of the servers came to replenish your drink as you slotted yourself at Steve’s side, rising to your tiptoes to kiss his cheek. You paused near his ear. “Hi. For future reference, I don’t want to be collected by some minion, okay?”

You returned to your feet and Steve’s hand cradled your back, eyebrows twisted as he searched your face. He looked worried and you were grateful for it. You waved your hand, dismissing the whole thing and mouthing to him that it was okay.

“I’m sorry,” he returned quietly. You squeezed his hand and remained under his arm, happily shaking hands with Tony Stark and a handful of others as Steve introduced you. 

It made you melt - how happy he was to include you, boast about you, have you at his side. Although it was a bit intimidating to suddenly be on first name basis with both the DA and tech mogul Tony Stark, you soon realized that they were just people and it seemed one of their favourite past times was poking fun at Steve.

Most importantly, to your surprise, Wanda had very quickly found herself lost in conversation with someone from Stark’s circle. You had missed his job title, but his nickname Vision had stuck out to you immediately. And it seemed his philosophical viewpoint and natural energy had Wanda laughing and arguing with him very quickly.

Later, as the crowd dispersed around your group, Steve took you by the hand and steered you back towards the rows of canvases and frames on display. The whole gallery had an energy that reminded you of Steve - with exposed brick sections from the original warehouse structure, with updated lighting and flooring to match. Something that felt both vintage and up to date, classic Brooklyn with a twist of something new. 

You stopped in front of a vibrant floral piece, tipping your head slightly to analyze the strokes and colours. There was something about it that felt familiar, like your mom’s garden at home.

“I like this one,” you uttered out quietly, as Steve slotted himself behind you. He extended his hand around your waist, resting his head on your shoulder.

“You can have it, if you want.”

“Steve.”

“It would look very good above your couch,” he insisted. “I know the guy who owns the place, he’ll give you a good deal.”

You just laughed and turned around in his arms, capturing his lips in a quick kiss as you met his eyes. 

“I’m sorry about earlier,” he continued, leaving his hand to rest at the small of your back while the other momentarily cradled your cheek. 

“It’s fine,” you said with a small smile. “I just.. I don’t know how things operate in your work life, but I’m not part of that. So I think we should just communicate directly, okay? No fetching by colleagues.”

“You know, the minute Sam walked away from me - my gut feeling said it was the wrong call.”

“You’ve gotta follow your instincts, Rogers,” you laughed and fell forward into his embrace. “I’ll forgive you for it this time, though.”

Steve’s hands trailed up your arms slowly, moving to cradle your cheeks again as he delivered another kiss to your lips. “Gonna come to the club with us after this wraps up?”

You tipped your head as if deep in thought, tugging his hands away and holding them between your chests. “What does a night at the club look like for you?”

“Nothing too raucous anymore. I try to keep a level head since taking ownership,” he responded. “It’s just a carry on of all the strategic conversations and networking garbage. Lots of drinks will be flowing though. Or anything else you might want?”

You could sense he was trying to ask a bigger question so you shook your head. “Nothing but drinks for me usually. Will there be champagne?”

“If that’s what you want - I can get you a champagne fountain, baby.”

“A bottle would be fine,” you said with a giggle, sliding your hands under his suit jacket. “You’ll dance with me?”

“I don’t really dance but I can find us a nice dark corner to hide in. Show you my office..”

--

Once the event had died down, everyone seemed to be piling into SUVs waiting outside to head to Shield for the rest of the night. You hadn’t been out to any club in a while and were sort of looking forward to it, mostly because you had a feeling you wouldn’t have to wait in line to get in or wait for a drink for the rest of the night either.

In fact, when you got to the club, it only took four steps from the vehicle to get you inside, with Steve’s hand at your back leading you in. Immediately a security guard ushered you all upstairs to a roped off area that looked down on the rest of the dance floor. 

Once you were beyond the velvet ropes, you realized the wild exclusivity of the area. Already, bottles of liquor sat in ice buckets, a set of waitresses appeared with more drinks and as more of the group piled in, you had a feeling this wasn’t a place where just excessive drinking occurred.

You dropped down onto one of the lush couches with Wanda, happily taking a bubbling glass of champagne that was offered to you from a bottle Steve had popped. 

You clinked your glass with Wanda’s and scanned the area. On the opposite couch, Nat was knocking back shots with Bucky and to their side, it seemed no time was wasted when it came to the beyond drinking activities. Sam, a blonde woman you hadn’t met yet and a large football player of a man were portioning lines of coke - and even asking if anyone wanted in for their next round.

“What about you, lady friend of Steve?” The large man met your curious gaze, though you were very quick to shake your head. “I can get you anything you’d like.”

“No thanks,” you waved dismissively, finishing off your champagne before getting to your feet. “Wan? Should we dance?” 

You weren’t that closed minded when it came to places like this, given what you already knew about Steve. In fact, he had even told you about what nights at the club usually looked like for him. He had told you that years ago, he’d party all night with no memory of what he had been doing. Now? He stuck to business conversations, liquor and the occasional cigar. You had a feeling the rest of his crew could be a bit more rowdy though. 

But damn, you hadn’t seen people so effortlessly snorting drugs in a long time. Since some outrageous college parties, probably.

“Oh, me too, me too I want to dance. Nat jumped up from her seat and grabbed your hand, weaving through the array of suits standing around talking. “Stevie - I’m taking your girl downstairs.”

Steve gave a raised eyebrow look as you passed him by, not before you paused to press a kiss against his cheek. “I’ll be okay.”

“She’ll be fine! She’s in good hands!”

The first thing Nat did when you got back to the lower level was steer both you and Wanda towards the bar. Immediately a bartender took notice of you and had drinks ready. You gave a small wave to Kate and Yelena, who were both managing bar logistics far from where you were standing and you quickly tipped back whatever Nat had offered you without question.

“That was a test!” Nat shouted in your ear, grinning at both you and Wanda as you recoiled from the vodka. “You're both tough, I like it.”

You shouted back, slamming down your glass on the barside. “Are we dancing or what?”

The dance floor at Shield was huge and the playlist wasn’t half bad either. Normally, a hot sticky night of dancing at this sort of bar wasn’t your ideal but the liquid courage and electricity from Nat and Wanda definitely helped set the mood. 

You were having fun. 

God knows how many songs had blasted through your ears before you felt warmth at your back and a familiar arm snaking around you. 

“Baby..” Steve whispered against the shell of your ear, pressing himself against you. All of himself, even. “I wanna show you my office.”

“Dance with me,” you shifted against him, throwing your arms around your neck as you looked up to meet his eyes. “God, you’re hot.”

He grinned and pulled you even closer, swaying his hips slowly against yours. “I told you I don’t dance, sweetheart. Come on..” 

--

You had a feeling Steve didn’t really want to show you his office. Okay, well maybe he did. 

Very specifically he only wanted to show you the couch in his office.

“You sober enough to make good decisions, sweetheart?”

A flurry of hands and lips and steps landed you on his couch, then he promptly had you perched on the side of it, gripping the armrest with your ass in the air, with a perfect view of yourselves in the reflection of a mirror propped up behind the door.

“Holy shit, baby.” Steve was practically growling as he gripped your hips, thrusting into you with an unexpected urgency. He hadn’t even bothered letting you take your dress off, simply pushing up your skirt and tugging your underwear to the side before he slid in. “You’re so wet for me.”

“Steve, fuck.” You fisted the fabric of the couch as he slowed down, immediately chasing his pace as you backed up into him. 

“Yeah, take what you need, sweetheart.”

You had insisted he forgo the condom this time, trusting both your birth control and your exclusivity discussion to keep you both safe. And well, you had told him to up the ante a bit too - a little harder, a little faster. And fuck if that didn’t make him feel even better this time.

“Come for me, come on my cock. I want to feel you..” He doubled down as you started to shake, pressing you down against the cushions as he sped up. “Seeing you down there on the dancefloor, you looked incredible - so fucking sexy –  my girl. All mine.”

It didn’t surprise you when he pulled out and spilled against your ass. You hated to admit how much you liked it, the idea of him marking you up because shit, all this talk about being his, behind Steve’s girl? It was sending you to another universe entirely.

“Sweetheart, you okay? That wasn’t too much?” You had collapsed onto the couch, catching your breath as Steve cleaned up, quickly pulling his boxers up and buckling his belt again. He crouched down beside you, brushing a hand across your forehead. “You with me?”

“Yes, just coming back down to earth.” You laid your head down on the pillow and smiled. “That was… very enjoyable. Loved getting to see your office, great couch.”

He cradled your cheek and kissed you, hard. “I think I want to show you the desk next.”

 -- 

Steve thought he was ending his night by crawling into bed with you. Thelast few weeks following the event at the gallery had left him busier than he anticipated and when you both finally coordinated a date night, you deserved his full attention.

And, well, he had given it to you. From walking around the botanical gardens to dinner at one of his favourite restaurants to fooling around on the drive back to his place, Steve had more than indulged in you. Now, after another sweaty romp back at his place plus more action in the shower, the last thing he needed was Bucky calling him in the middle of the night.

“What?” Steve practically barked under his breath, carefully removing himself from the sheets and stepping out of the darkness of his bedroom. “Didn’t I tell you I was on do not disturb tonight, Buck?”

“Special circumstances. Castle is holding some idiot who made a scene at their warehouse, stirring shit about boundary lines.”

“And?” 

“You told Russo you wanted to know when Rumlow left his mark again - it was one of his guys.”

Steve gritted his teeth, weighing his options. He knew what he needed to do and unfortunately even your sleeping body warming his bed didn’t stop him from following through with his own rules. Brooklyn was his territory and he couldn’t have anyone else making a mess of that. “Can the guy still talk?”

Bucky laughed. “Barely. He’s in good spirits apparently - especially mouthy, says Castle. I’m downstairs, let’s go.”

A heavy sigh escaped Steve, from the depths of his chest. He knew what he needed to do, but damnit, his heart and soul were resisting. Why did this entire thing feel like a test?

“I’ll be down in five.”

Steve did his best to remain quiet as he got dressed again, stepping out of his closet to see you stirring in bed. His bed. God, there you were in his bed, resting, beautiful.

“Go back to sleep, sweetheart. I’m leaving Hercules in charge.” Steve looked briefly to your sleeping pup who was curled up in a new dog bed in the corner. “I’ll be back soon.” He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your lips, trying not to shudder as you grabbed his hip.

Through a muffled yawn, you let go and fell back into the pillow. “Be safe, okay?”

Steve left one more kiss on your forehead and headed towards the door, leaving you safely tucked away at home as he ventured into the darkness of the city.

--

CHAPTER 03 - CHAPTER 05

“Yeah,” Steve was laughing again, running his thumb over the letters. “Me and Buck gave each other tattoos one night. Dumb teenage shit, you know?”

“That’s strangely… endearing,” you laughed along, letting out a long breath and returning to your spot resting against him. “Bucky’s your best friend?”

“Seems a bit juvenile to say it that way, but yeah. I trust him with my life.” Steve circled his arm around you and held you closer somehow. The light touch of his fingertips grazed your shoulders. “Me and him, we’ve.. We’ve been through a lot together.”

“Can you tell me something no one else knows about you?” You closed your eyes, fighting off the heavy wave of sleep that was creeping in. “Not even Bucky?”

“Hmm.” Steve paused, taking the extra moment to press a kiss to the top of your head while he thought of his answer. “I closed on a new property today.”

You opened your eyes again. “Okay, that’s… a fact, I guess.”

His chest rumbled, smirking. “I bought a cabin in Connecticut, near the state border. It’s a little thing - triangle A-frame structure, two bedrooms, comes with a canoe and a kayak, there’s a trail down to a lake..” 

You couldn’t help but push yourself up again, turning to smile at him with wide eyes. “It sounds beautiful! Just an investment property orr…”

“No, it’s for me. I want somewhere to escape the city. It needs some work but I want it to be all season.”

“I can’t wait to see some photos.”

“Maybe we could..” Steve trailed off, eyes closing momentarily before he opened just one to peek at you. “Could up there on a weekend? Just us two?”

Your cheeks warmed at the thought of a weekend away with Steve, away from everything, cozy around a fire. “That sounds like a dream.”

“Well, let’s make it happen, sweetheart.”

 ---

“Hey, you’ve barely even commented on that terrible design - where is your head right now?”

You sighed, tearing your empty stare from your TV across the room and down towards where Maria was sitting on the rug. You had invited her over to binge the latest season of your favourite reality tv fashion show and, well, you were clearly being a bad host. 

Truthfully, you were lost in your thoughts. You’d been drawing in them a lot over the past few weeks. You could feel your work life balance slipping away as another busy project season approached. And moving had thrown you for a loop. But mostly your mind was racing thinking about Steve. Your pros and cons list about him and the state of your relationship was growing on each side.

God, the pros were so good. He was attentive, kind and interesting. You both had fun together, you laughed a lot and he cared as much about Hercules as he did you. And the sex was amazing - he really enjoyed taking care of you. Steve was strong in his convictions, fought through adversity, and remained passionate about the things that mattered to him.

But on the other hand, you knew it was fair to have doubts. Steve was busy with work and whatever else was going on in his life and you didn’t see each other as often as you both would like. And there was the large mystery of what he really did for work anyway, though you could put enough pieces together. Quiet phone calls, an endless list of people who seemed to report to him, the illicit activities at the club, his resistance to the police… 

“Are you okay?” Maria shifted slightly, pausing the show and turning to look up at you as you clutched a pillow anxiously on the couch. 

“I’m just thinking about Steve,” you finally admitted, closing your eyes and collapsing back into the couch.

“What else is new?” Maria joked, eyes narrowed as you watched you. “What’s going on?”

“I’ve been willfully ignorant about his..” You hesitated. “..His work.”

Maria scooted closer, propped up on her knees. “Okay, yeah, let’s dig in because what is all that about? I was kind of joking about the mob thing but..” Her eyes grew dramatically wide. “Wait.” Reaching for her phone, she tapped on the screen and looked back at you. “Hey Google - what does a mob boss do?”

“No, come on,” you laughed, though it was mostly to hide your concern. “It’s going to burst the bubble, you know? The minute I really admit all this out loud.”

Maria scanned over the webpage illuminated on her phone. “It’s kind of a spectrum of information here. Whatever this thing is he’s running, they could have their hands in a lot of stuff like loaning money, tax fraud, political racketeering, illegal weapons, murd–”

Shaking your head, you reached for her phone and took it from her. “Stop, please. I don’t want to..” You sighed and draped your arm across your eyes. “Last week, I was staying over at his place and he got a call in the middle of the night. Something so important he had to leave for an hour but of course he didn’t give me any details. But that can’t be a good thing, right? I’m not an idiot.”

Maria just sighed, your name quiet on her lips. “I know you’re not an idiot. But maybe.. I don’t know. Maybe this was only meant to be short term.”

A beat of silence sat between you both. Eventually, you took a deep breath. “Steve is a good person.”

Maria nudged you with her elbow. “Is he?”

“Yes! The side of him I see is… good, I think.”

“And the side you don’t see?”

“That’s what I’m worried about.”

Maria said your name softly, enticing you to peel your arm away and look at her. “It just sounds like whatever Steve does - lawful or illegal or whatever - it could be dangerous. I don’t want you to get hurt or caught up in something you shouldn’t be a part of.”

“I don’t want that either,” you replied quietly. A dramatic groan followed as you fell sideways onto the couch cushions. You knew Steve would never, ever let you get hurt. The real problem though was - what could even be potential harm for you? Wasn’t being with Steve just adding to that big potential risk? Maybe it really was time to admit that and maybe it was time for a hard conversation. “It feels like I met the right person at the wrong time.”

Maria offered you a small sympathetic smile. “It also feels like it’s time for the second bottle of wine.”

 ---

Even thinking about starting the conversation with Steve intimidated you. Deep down, you knew you were just delaying it on purpose - remaining perfectly content in your honeymoon phase. 

After a long workday, you had collected Hercules from his daycare then headed home, showered and talked yourself into being bold enough to bring it up with Steve. You met him at Shield, where he promised he was just about done with some paperwork then you could find somewhere to go for dinner.

You waited patiently in the chair across from his desk, fingers tapping against the arm of the chair as you watched him. Out of all the days, it was this day he had chosen to reveal to you that he sometimes wore reading glasses.

And fuck if he didn’t look even more attractive in a pair of glasses. Now your stomach was swirling with anxiety and something else, too. You weren’t sure how much longer you could contain yourself.

“You okay?” Steve’s voice broke through your thoughts. You met his gaze over the desk. He had stopped his pen from marking up the ledger ahead of him, staring at you with stoic curiosity instead. “I’m almost done, I promise.”

“No, no. Take your time.” You waved your hand and looked anywhere else in the room. 

He kept a photo of his mom on the corner of his desk. A framed antique movie poster decorated one wall and–

“Sweetheart?” 

You sighed and looked back at him. “I’m fine. Just.. I had a long day. My boss has been micromanaging me like crazy and… just tired, I guess.” 

You could tell he didn’t really believe you, but thankfully he didn’t press. He did drop his pen down, though. With one swift motion, he closed his ledger book and leaned back in his chair. 

“C’mhere, my tired girl.” 

With another sigh, you pretended for a moment to consider rejecting how he was inviting you over to his side of the desk. But you couldn’t resist. You stood and shuffled your way over there, letting him gently perch you on the side of his desk as he stood from his chair.

His hands found your hips quickly, as he leaned down and looked into your eyes. “We don’t have to go out.”

“No, no,” you shook your head. “I want to! I just..” You scrunched up your face, trying to find something convincing to say. “My mind is all over the place today.”

Steve gave you one of his little charming half smiles, slotting himself between your legs and moving his hands up to cradle both your cheeks. His thumb brushed over the apple of your cheeks. “Do you wanna tell me what’s going on?”

Before you could let out the breath you were holding, across the room someone banged on the door. Steve grumbled under his breath and opened his mouth to dismiss whoever was there, but instead the door rushed open.

“Rogers, your phone broken? We were supposed to start this meeting twenty –” 

You tried to turn your head to see who was there, but Steve held you steady. A series of expletives left his mouth as he stepped back for a moment, shouting towards the door. 

“And since when do we meet in my fucking office, Russo?” Steve dropped his hands and moved towards the door, acting as a barrier between you and the opposite side of the room. You craned your neck to see them standing on either side of the doorway.

“I’ll meet you at the bar then..” The other voice eventually replied, footsteps disappearing in the hallway.

“Fuck..” You heard Steve muttering again. 

Well, date night was definitely off the table, you were certain of it.

“Sweetheart, I’m sorry. I double booked and –”

“Steve, it’s fine.” You dismissed him immediately, hopping off the desk and meeting him in the middle of the room. “I can take my rotten mood home, it’s probably better this way.”

“I’ll get Shaun to take you home, okay? He should be downstairs.” 

You could see the genuine disappointment on Steve’s face. He clearly felt bad that his meeting had slipped his mind but it occurred to you that certain things were probably easier for him to prioritize and, well, where did that leave you?

You just nodded and accepted the offer. Steve grabbed your hand and guided you back down to the main part of the bar, making one quick hand motion to his driver, who immediately jumped to attention and hurried outside to pull a car around.

“Come over after?” You brought your hand up and poked his chest. “I’ll order a pizza?”

He nodded, reaching for his wallet. “Let me pay for it, at least.”

“Steve,” you laughed, stopping his hand and looking over your shoulder briefly. You didn’t recognize a few of the people lingering around the bar, a few of which were clearly watching you and Steve. “It’s okay.”

He sighed, head shaking. When you resisted again, he held up his hands in defense. “Fine, but I’m coming over with a pint of gelato then.”

You smiled. “Sounds amazing.” You looked back again, then raised up onto your tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his lips. “I’ll see you later.”

---

Steve sent you a few updates throughout the night. That his meeting went longer than he hoped, that they had to meet up with someone else, that he was sorry and would be there soon. When he finally showed up, you had already packed the pizza away and changed into your pajamas to sprawl out on the couch. Hercules was sprawled out under your feet just the same.

When he opened the door, you twisted and offered him a smile. Though it disappeared quickly when you got a better look at him under the lights in your kitchen. You didn’t mean to gasp but when you narrowed your eyes, you couldn’t believe what you were seeing. 

“Steve - are you bleeding?” You leaped up from the couch and met him near the kitchen sink, pulling his shoulder in an attempt to see his neckline better. “There’s blood all over your—“

“Shit.” He took a step back from you, letting out a long breath as he lifted a hand to his collar. “Fucking shit.”

“Are you hurt? What happened?” You twisted your head again, trying to look but he turned away. “Steve.”

Silence hung between you both. 

Eventually, he cleared his throat. “I’m fine. It’s…it’s not my blood.”

You took a step back, trying to ignore the heavy feeling that took over your stomach. Maybe you were about to have the dreaded conversation sooner than later. 

Steve turned on his heel and looked at you, teeth gritted as he found his words. “It's, uh, an occupational hazard.”

Brow furrowed, you frowned. “This isn’t funny.”

He pulled at his collar and sighed again. “I’m not laughing.”

“Steve.” You walked backwards until you hit your couch, perching yourself on the end with crossed arms as you watched him across the room. He wasn’t making this conversation any easier - shedding his jacket and collared shirt left him in just a goddamn white tanktop and fuck if he didn’t look so incredibly built. “Did you - did you ki-”

He cut you off, head shaking as he muttered out your name. “Please don’t ask that question.”

You took a deep breath. “We have both been ignorant here, okay? And I don’t want to ask but I don’t know if I can avoid it anymore so.. So, you’re in.. the mob? You run the…”

Steve smirked, briefly, then shook his head as his jaw tensed. His discomfort was evident in every twitch. “That’s an archaic term.” He let the air out of his lungs then reached for his jacket. “No, we can’t do this. I won’t do this.”

“Tell me the truth!” Your voice came out louder than you intended, but you carried on. “I’m not an idiot, Steve. And neither are you. I’m smart enough to figure out that whatever you consider your ‘business’ - it’s above the law, or below it, I guess.”

He gritted his teeth for a moment as he considered his words. “Fine. I guess we’re talking about this now.” He paused. “It’s my responsibility to manage a network of people, alright? People who..”

“You can’t even say it out loud,” you scoffed quietly, shaking your head as you looked away. 

Steve huffed, calling your name to grab your attention again.  “What do you want me to say, huh? That I have a team of people working for me. I loan money, I make trades and get a cut, I turn a blind eye to things when necessary. I don’t always follow the rules or act with civility. That part of my life -I, I don’t want you involved, okay? So forgive me for trying to shield you from that.”

“Don’t act like you’re doing me a favour, Steve!” You sighed. “I don’t get it. You’ve shown me who you are - who you really are - time and time again and that version of you, I just.. how does the Steve who has a little hideaway cottage upstate, who-who funds after school programs in his neighbourhood - how does he kill people!?”

Steve took a step forward, your name on his lips. “Listen to me, I didn’t—”

You choked out a dry laugh “Stop. You have literal blood on your hands.”

He shook his head, mouth agape. “I use force when I need to and I like to ensure my message is understood by any means possible. But unless absolutely necessary, I don’t take lives.” 

“How am I supposed to believe that?”

“I told you I’d never lie to you.”

You didn’t reply. 

“You called me, sweetheart. Remember?” He closed in the space between you and reached for your hand. “Those idiots were breaking into your apartment and you didn’t dial 911, you called me. Why?”

Hesitantly, you extended your arm and let him squeeze your hand. 

He brushed his thumb across your knuckles. “Because you know that deep down, maybe the cops wouldn’t get there quick enough. Maybe they wouldn’t help you at all. You’d get a report, one follow up call and nothing else. I know there are good cops but they are overworked and outnumbered. And the bad ones.. I’m doing my part and taking care of my city in any way I can.”

You looked up at him again. The blood was still staining his neck. With one firm tug, you removed your hand from his hold. Your voice shook. “You should go.”

“I think we need to— ”

You flicked your wrist to the door. “Go.”

Though you could see him resisting, Steve relented and stepped back from you. His mouth opened to argue but snapped shut quickly. Gripping his soiled shirt, he moved towards the doorway. 

“Steve?” You stood up and he paused, meeting your glossy eyes. “Do you think you’re a good person?”

“What matters more is if you think I’m a good person, sweetheart.” He paused and waited for a reaction from you but you remained motionless. “I’ll, uh- goodnight. I’m sorry.”

Just as soon as the door clicked shut, you collapsed onto your couch, consumed by your tears. 

 ---

You weren’t entirely sure why your day went so poorly - was it your boss and their awful attitude? Was it the coffee you spilled all over your lap at lunch? Was it the fact that ignoring Steve and every thought about him was grinding on your emotions?

All you wanted was a hot shower and dinner under a blanket on the couch. That was it. You just had to make it home. You figured at least the bad day was behind you as you headed to your apartment. Because you couldn’t imagine it getting worse.

Hah. 

You [6:51PM]: hey You [6:51PM]: i know we left everything up in the air You [6:51PM]: but I don’t know what to do  You [6:52PM]: I think someone is following me

Maybe you were being paranoid. Because you were in a hurry. For that same reason, you couldn’t be certain the same man from the subway was following you to your bus stop. But when you hesitated and turned down a side street, pretending to be very interested in the fruit display outside some nearby bodega, he slowed down too. And when you opted to turn back and join the line at Starbucks, as a test, he followed. 

You tried not to panic. 

Your first thought was to message Steve, a habit you had been struggling to resist all week. He’d reached out a handful of times since your fight but you had done a damn good job not replying. But now? He was the first person to come to your mind.

Moments after you reached out to him, your phone rang. 

You brought it to your ear as you waited in line. “Hi.”

“Are you safe? Where are you? Can you share your location with me?”

You let out a long breath. “Sure, just a sec.” You pulled your phone away and did as he requested. “Done.”

“That’s perfect, thank you sweetheart. I’m on my way to meet you. Are there a lot of people around you?”

“Yes, plenty.” 

“Great. My GPS is telling me you’re at Starbucks? Is that right?”

“Yeah - want me to grab you a cake pop? You seem like the cake pop type.” You paused. “I’m just gonna order - should I call you back or..?”

“No, you’re good. I’ll be right here. Go ahead.”

You smiled at the barista, trying to maintain your composure. Pulling your phone down slightly, you ordered. “Just a tall americano, please. With a bit of milk.”

Steve chirped in your ear. “Decaf?”

Oh, shit. It was after six already. And here Steve was, in the middle of your panic, reminding you of your own caffeine sensitivity. You paused before paying for your drink. “Can you make that decaf, please?”

After you paid, you heard Steve again. “I’m about a block away.” God, he was moving fast. You could hear honking behind him. 

“Okay, I’m uh..” You faltered, scanning the crowd for the man who has been following you. You ducked behind a couple sitting at a tall table when you noticed him lingering near the door. “The guy.. I think he’s waiting for me to leave. Maybe. I don’t know, actually. I might have made this whole thing up or -”

“Just stay where you are, keep talking to me.” It sounded like he was walking now. “Whatever your gut tells you, it's important. Nothing wrong with that, I promise.”

You hummed a quiet agreement. That kind of justification did make you feel better but your doubts continued to creep in. Grabbing your drink as your name was called, you took a few steps forwards and finally spotted Steve at the door. 

“The guy in the blue jacket?”

You quietly confirmed, finally meeting Steve’s eyes across the sea of people waiting in line. The sight of his smile, though just there for a moment, mostly settled the turmoil in your stomach. 

“Just stay right there until I come get you, okay?”

With a final nod, Steve ended the call and returned his phone to his pocket. Then you watched as he very subtly stepped up to the man you had described, leaning in to whisper something in his ear. 

The man froze. 

Steve reached out and gripped his shoulder, guiding him outside and beyond the window. Then you lost sight of them both and you tried not to let your mind wander. 

You sipped your coffee, sliding into a chair at a free table - though you were smart enough to keep your back to the wall, waiting for Steve to come back for you. Finally letting yourself breathe, the gravity of the situation seemed to settle in you. Why was someone following you? Was this connected to the break in at your apartment again? Was it something related to Steve?

Steve. 

God, you couldn’t believe how he dropped everything to come protect you from whatever this was, if it was anything at all. Actually, no, you could believe it. Because Steve had proven many times that he cared about you and your wellbeing. 

“What matters more is if you think I’m a good person, sweetheart.”

Could a good person do bad things? Didn’t that make them a bad person? Fuck, you didn’t want to get into the moral gymnastics of this again. 

You were freed from the spiral of thoughts when Steve dropped into the seat across from you, eyes narrow with concern. You knew he was searching your face for distress, pain, anything.

“You okay?” Finally he spoke, slowly reaching his hand out to grab yours as it sat on the table. You squeezed back as he held on.

“Yeah, I think so.”

“He didn’t touch you?” 

“No, no. Kept his distance enough that I was second guessing myself but..” 

You wanted to ask who the guy was, if Steve knew him, why he might be following you. But you didn’t really want answers to those questions.

“Let me take you home,” Steve let your hand go and nodded towards the door. “Do you need to get Hercules?”

You revealed a small smile though it faded quickly. “I do.. but..” You swallowed the lump in your throat and closed your eyes. “Can I.. I don’t want to be alone.”

“Okay, let’s grab your boy and we’ll go to my place.”

---

Despite the straight lines and cool tones that decorated Steve’s apartment, you felt comfortable there. The entire journey to get through his door, from the car ride to the elevator, you felt like you were holding your breath. But walking into his living room, as Hercules padded across the kitchen floor to slurp up some water from a dish Steve had left for him, you felt the tension release from your shoulders. Finally.

You fiddled with the sleeves of your sweater as you crossed the room, stopping in front of the large windows that looked down onto the city. You felt small suddenly.

Behind you, Hercules’ wandering footsteps came to an end as he flopped down in the middle of the living room. Then, you could hear Steve walking towards you too, slowly. 

He stopped at your side, casting a brief sideways glance to you before he shifted his gaze to the skyline.

You swallowed hard, tangling your hands together as you spoke. “I called you.. that night... Because you make me feel safe, Steve. I can’t really explain it but it’s something I’ve never felt before..” A small laugh escaped you. “Even now, wearing my heart on my sleeve, I think I should be scared and yet..” Turning your head to the side, you met his eyes. “..I’m safe.”

You couldn’t read his reaction. Was it confusion, relief, understanding? He dragged a hand across his jaw before looking away again. 

“Steve?” You grabbed his nearest hand. “Thank you.”

To your surprise, Steve pulled his hand back for a moment then turned and brought it up to cradle your cheek. His eyes burned with something you hadn’t seen before - something deep, intense. “You don’t have to thank me - you shouldn’t have to thank anyone for caring about you, sweetheart. It’s an honour — it’s my privilege to keep you safe.”

You were shrouded in him - the intense feeling of protection radiated through his stare, through his touch, his words. Why couldn’t this be easier? Right then, it felt easy but you knew it wouldn’t always be that way.

You closed your eyes briefly then looked back up at him. “What do we do now?”

He licked his lips, resisting breaking eye contact with you. “Who I am- it doesn’t go away.”

“I know. Logically, maybe walking away makes sense.. before this gets more tangled. But I just don’t… that’s not what I want.”

Steve stepped forward, closing in the space between you. “Okay. Then what do you want?”

You couldn’t answer. You wanted to smash your lips into his, run your hands down his back, feel him on top of you. But your logical brain stopped you. With all the willpower you could manage, you pulled away and took a small step back. “I want to.. uhm. Shower. Do you mind if I—”

Steve took a step back too, nodding. “Of course. Yeah. Go ahead. There’s fresh towels in my bathroom..” 

With a solemn nod you turned and headed down the hall, doing your best not to look back at him. 

Fuck, you were so totally fucked. What the fuck were you doing?

Steve’s shower was incredible compared to the one in the guest room. Spacious, with heated tile on the floor and a rainfall shower head. You turned on the water to warm up as you undressed, opening the door to his small linen cabinet to grab a towel. Then you saw it - the neat stack of your preferred shampoo, conditioner, lotion and body wash. 

Had Steve grabbed those just for you? You could cry just thinking of him walking around CVS and matching the toiletries to the ones you kept in your own bathroom. You wrapped the towel around your torso and moved the soaps to the bench in the shower, then peaked your head out the bathroom door. 

“Steve?” You called out his name, hearing quick footsteps heading your way. 

He stepped into the bedroom and met you at the door frame. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, I just, uh..” you hesitated, taking a deep breath. “I can’t figure out how the shower works.”

He frowned. “Huh. I can show you the-” His face turned to a smile instead, taking in your coy smirk. With one hand he reached for the hem of his shirt. He gave you another look, as if to make sure you really wanted his company. 

You grabbed his hand, letting your towel drop to the floor. “Come on.”

Steve didn’t waste any time tearing off his clothes and joining you under the water. Once you were both well soaked, the whole shower filled with steam as his lips found yours. 

He was hungry for you and you were hungry for him too. Gone were the doubts and fears and worries as you were left with just Steve - with his calloused careful hands and his soft lips, his calculated touch. He was a man with a mission. 

“Fuck,” you whimpered out, breathless as Steve’s lips moved towards your neck. “Steve, I..” 

“Tell me what you need, baby. Tell me and you can have it.” His hands snaked over your body, gliding easily over every inch of your skin. 

You gasped as his hands gripped your ass, before slipping around to the front, between your legs.

“There.. Yes,” you breathed out against the shell of his ear. “Make me come, please. Fuck me, tell me I’m yours..”

One of Steve’s hands came back up to capture your lips again, to cradle your jaw as his other started to play a symphony between your legs. His fingers moved gently at first, circling your clit slowly to warm you up. His tongue danced against yours, grinning against your mouth as you let out a tiny whimper. “Is that good? Is this what you need, my love?”

My love? The man was going to kill you, unraveling you inch by inch, touch by touch. 

“Yes, yes!” Was all you could muster to reply as Steve sped up, challenging both himself and you to get you there with a bigger impact. You barely had time to prepare yourself for the climax, shaking against his hand as his lips clamped down against the skin of your neck. 

You could tell he was going to leave a mark there.

You didn’t care.

In a swift motion, he moved his hand from between your legs to the outside of your thigh, lifting it up against his hip and pulling back enough to align himself with you. On your other leg, you raised yourself onto your toes to meet him and then you heard it - that deep, sensual growl that echoed from his chest.

“Holy fuck, baby,” he seethed through his teeth, head tipped back momentarily as he pushed himself fully into you. You pulled him back to your mouth, holding his cheeks in your hands as you breathed him in. “I need this - need you..” 

He collapsed against you, thrusting slow and steady, eliciting a whine from you with every extra push. And then, before you could even understand what was happening, Steve was lifting you - hands gripping the underside of your ass cheeks to hold you steady. You nearly protested, thinking about the sheer physics of what was happening - but damnit, Steve was stronger than you realized. 

“I won’t let you fall, baby. Won’t let anything happen to my girl, I promise..” He answered your racing questions without hesitation, keeping you safe and secure in his arms as he fucked into you with an unmatched intensity. Christ, you feared the tiles might shatter behind your back. 

“You’re my girl, all mine..”

You wondered momentarily if the subtext behind his words matched yours. When he said you were his, did he mean it? In his heart and soul? 

“Wanna do this forever..” He continued, head nestled beside your own as his pace increased. “Wanna make you feel good, happy. Safe. Want you around me forever.”

You were nearly bursting at the seams, anticipating the wave of feelings as another orgasm approached. “Steve..” you were breathless, barely audible in his ear. “Come with me, baby.”

“I’m close..” he returned, pulling back to find your lips. “I’m gonna— ”

He collapsed against you as he reached his peak, grunting as the last motions of his hips tensed and he flooded into you. He held you there, legs shaking around him as you came down from your own climax. 

You both caught your breath, lost in the sound of the water hitting the tiled floor. 

 ---

Steve never wanted to take his moments with you for granted, especially in the early morning light. You were a dream under the golden rays - somehow attached to his side in your sweet slumber. This was all he dreamed of. Silent, calm, serenity. 

Resisting his urge to check his phone, he shuffled and pulled his arm around you, keeping your back cradled against his chest. Fuck, even your half dressed form under the sheets had him ready to go first thing in the morning. 

You rustled under his hold. “Morning..” The rasp of your first spoken words melted his heart. 

“Did I wake you?” He asked before pressing a kiss to your neck, hot breath tickling your skin. 

“No, no. Internal clock. Herc probably needs to go out..”

“He’s still asleep,” Steve replied, pausing to crane his neck and check on your sleeping dog just outside the doorway to his room. “Content.”

“Me too,” you said quietly, pressing your hips back against Steve. All of him. A low moan escaped you. “Very good morning..”

Steve took that as enough of a cue and let his lips get to work. Kisses were pressed against your neck and shoulders as the hand tucked around your waist reached below your shirt. With every twist of your nipples, your hips moved more aggressively. 

Steve grinned. “Let me take care of you, baby.” His hands explored all over - from your chest, across your soft stomach to underneath the waistband of your underwear. “God damn, I love how you feel. All ready for me..”

It wasn’t long before you were shaking at his hands and he was lifting your thigh to slide in, hungry and relentless to really feel you. He held you tight, your bodies moulded together as the city woke up beneath you. Steve breathed out your name again and again, like some kind of secret prayer. 

With a firm hand gripping your hip, he let himself go with a possessive growl. God, he could start every day like this forever if you’d let him - a reminder to you both of how he felt for you, how you were tied together, how you’d both get to think back to this moment during every other hour of the day. 

Eventually, you had to leave the bed and return to the real world. 

Steve took you home, waited as you got changed for work as he caught up on his own outstanding messages. Then he took you to drop off Hercules and delivered you safely to the front door of your office. 

After one or two or three kisses, you reached for the handle of your door. He called your name to stop you. 

“Steve, I’m already late,” you frowned, tipping your head to watch him. 

He sighed, though a small apologetic lined his face. “Just one more thing. Next weekend - would you be up for a road trip to the cabin? We can talk about.. everything.”

You thought for a moment then nodded. “Yeah, that sounds good.” Leaning in, you stole another kiss. “Okay, I’ve gotta get upstairs. Thanks for the ride. I lov-” You blinked and caught yourself. “I’ll talk to you later.”

Steve watched as you hurried away. He sighed, teeth clenched, only putting his car back into drive once you were safely inside. 

With a tight grip on the steering wheel, Steve headed into Manhattan. The early morning traffic would normally bother him, but he didn’t mind the extra time with his thoughts before he made it to his meeting. 

If he could even call it a meeting. God, he hated the mind games his mentor liked to play. Elusive, tricky and always trying to teach a lesson - Nick Fury was a force to be reckoned with. 

Steve pulled up to the The Gemini Hotel, nodding to the young kid scurrying working the valet desk as he handed over his keys and headed inside. Steve didn’t bother even sparing a glance towards the attendant at the front desk and he ignored the concierge too, striding directly to the elevator to head up to the penthouse. Conveniently, he ran smack into Fury’s right hand man once Steve stepped into the elevator. 

“You’re about twelve hours late,” Phil Coulson started, eyes stealing ahead as they travelled upwards. 

Steve didn’t reply. When the elevator dinged, Steve surged forward and hurried down the hall to the familiar suite. With a grunt, he pushed past the security guard waiting outside the door and made his way inside.

“Good fucking lord, can’t a man read the paper and eat his croissant in peace?”

Steve ignored the commentary from Nick Fury, who was leaning back in an office chair with his feet propped up on the desk. Steve reached across and pulled the newspaper away, slamming his hands down on the desk and staring the other man down. “Fury, we need to talk.”

--

Up next: drama, probably. and some more Steve POV.