#soft!steve

‘Jesus Christ.’ He murmurs in an exaspereted voice and you can practically see the way he pinches the bridge of his nose.

‘Some people’s kids, huh?’ you murmur with a smirk.

‘It’s dangerous! One of these days he’ll slip on the tiles and cut himself if he keeps doing that.’

‘You should be careful, you sound more and more like an old man with every passing day H.’

He’s always hit by a little wave of nostalgia when you call him that. Walking into his life, all cocky and snappy at a point when he thought he was over this. Over the all-consuming crushes and thinking someone is the love of your life.

After defeating the Upside down, after the dust settled, after burying their dead they stuck together. Losing Jonathan did a number on everyone. Everyone thought they should’ve done more. Will felt guilt and sadness, so Mike was devastated, Dustin seemed inconsolable, Nancy was weighed down with all the unsaid words, with the final memories of distance and uncertainty. And he was left to pick up the pieces once again. He was lonely. Robin was leaving for college soon, and he knew she had to go, there were no two ways about it but it did make him anxious and very sad and he didn’t show it. In the midst of all of that he was desperate for some familiarity, something to comfort, something that felt safe. So, they briefly found their way back to each other, for exactly that. Warmth, ease, uncomplicated. But it’s never that, is it? Uncomplicated, that is. They quickly figured out that it was not gonna work. It wasn’t dramatic, or loud or anything like that. It was a quiet understanding, slow, shared tears, ‘I’m sorry’s’ whispered into the dark, although they both knew it wasn’t anybody’s fault. It just was what it was.

He walked into a bar in Indiana while visiting Robin not too long after that. She had to study, he was feeling particularly sorry for himself. You were pouring beer and laughing with someone who seemed to be a regular. Wearing a band T-shirt with the sleeves cut off in a way that your bra was peaking out the sides as you moved, hair tied into a bun with no care, chipped black nail polish, a dangerous smile and something even more dangerous glinting in your eyes as you threw your head back giggling. Not his type but still very much his type. He was at rock bottom and he knew you were trouble but he still couldn’t stop himself from walking over to the bar. Like a moth to the flame. I’m so fucking pathetic - he thought to himself.

As he sat down at the bar your eyes flicked at him. You knew that look. Being a bartender you see a guy like him at least three times a night. Six on the weekends. They’re sad, they lost something, or they never found it. Whatever it is, you smile, you listen if needed, flirt a little and they tip nice. This wasn’t even the first time you thought you could kiss it better, fix him, as it were.

‘Hey, what can I get you?’

‘Uh, hi, just a beer please.’

‘Just a beer coming up.’

You were pouring the beer from the tap and you couldn’t help but stare a little. The dark circles and bags under his eyes, little scruff, he obviously hasn’t shaved in at least in a couple of days, cheeks a little too bony. He lost weight, you thought, he’s not sleeping. Wonderful material for your unshakeable need to save everyone. You were quick to learn that that’s something you shared.

‘You new in town?’ you asked.

‘Uhm, yes and no.’

‘Oh, mysterious.’

Were you flirting with him?

‘Not that mysterious.’ You almost missed the tiniest little upturn in the corner of his lips. ‘My best friend goes to college here, just visiting. First time in town though.’

‘Well, you’re at the right place then’ you said, continuing in that slightly teasing tone that started to raise a little bit of heat at the back of his neck. The first time you made him feel something he thought he couldn’t anymore. ‘Most good stories and bad decisions start right here.’

Before he could answer a guy came up beside him.

‘Hey, sweetheart.’ There was something about the nickname and the way he said it that made him pull a cringing frown, which didn’t go unnoticed by you.

Oh, boy.

‘Hi, Vinnie.’ All the warmth and playfulness was drained from your voice so fast. He took his beer and took a sip, sending you a thankful look.

‘I would love a whisky, neat, with your number on the side.’ He was really trying to control himself but this dick was making it very hard. He could see the way you tensed. You knew this guy. You didn’t like it.

‘We’ve been over this Vinnie. The whisky I can do, nothing else, just drop it bud.’

‘Oh, come on now sweetheart.’ That fucking nickname again. ‘Smile for me a little, that’s the least you can do, promise to leave a big tip.

‘Jesus Christ’ He didn’t mean to, he really didn’t, he didn’t want trouble - well maybe a little, in the form of that giggle he heard earlier but nothing else. But it still slipped out, he couldn’t help it.

‘Is there a problem here buddy?’ He knew that tone too. Trouble. Not the good kind.

‘Easy does it, Vinnie! He’s new, don’t scare him away.’ You send him a wink but he senses the tension. You’ve seen this before. You don’t want this. He doesn’t need to be a knight in shining armour for you.

‘No problem at all, man. Just drinking my beer. Although, if you keep harassing her, we might have one.’ Again, it just slipped out. Old habits and all that.

‘Harassing? Jesus, you young people get so easily worked up over nothing. I’m just flirting a little, no harm.’

‘Well, she’s clearly not into it, so you can just say thank you and we can all drink our beers in silence and peace.’

There are a couple things happening at the same time. You shout something (the bodyguard at the place, he later learns), the chair under Vinnie sliding backwards and his fists grabbing onto his shirt near his collar.

‘Listen, little boy-’

But he can’t finish the sentence, because the guard pulls him off. They can’t keep him out, but they can definitely kick him out when he acts up.

He was glad, if he wanted to be honest. He could still pull some punches probably, if need be, but he was nowhere near his prime anymore. There was no way he was gonna win that one. It was a hard pill to swallow but he needed to be smarter about these things. Bloody knuckles weren’t that cute anymore, now he was pushing thirty.

‘You make a habit of protecting bartenders?’ you asked after the guy was thrown out.

‘Only the ones that wink at me.’

‘Huh, I should do it more often then.’

‘Maybe you should.’ It’s teasing, the way his voice drops half on octave as he says it. Your lips twitch. He’s still got some of it left, he thinks to himself, good to know.

‘Your next beer is on me then, hero boy.’

‘What makes you think I want another beer? And Steve’s fine.’

‘If you must know, Steve, I get off in about an hour and thought you might wanna stick around.’

‘Do you have a phone back there?’

‘Gotta let your girlfriend know, you’re not coming home tonight?’

‘Like I said, my best friend, no girlfriend. She gets worried easily, that’s all.’

‘Wife? A couple kids back home?’

‘No wife, no kids’ he said, holding his left hand up, wiggling his fingers. ‘Well, not mine, anyway.’

You furrowed your eyebrows at that and tilted your head to the side, which made your throat stretch in a way that had him thinking some thoughts. Inappropriate, even lewd thoughts. The second time you made him feel something he thought evaporated from him.

‘There’s this group of kids - well, they’re not even kids anymore really - I used to sort of babysit back in the day. Not my kids, but kinda my kids.’

You hum, narrow your eyes and he feels his stomach drop a little. You’re looking at him, studying. He didn’t really say anything and still you know there’s something to look for behind it. You’re reading him, looking for that closed up, hidden place inside of him that has been dormant for so long. And he almost felt like he wanted you to find it. Shit.

‘The phone’s on the wall to the right.’ you said eventually when you saw someone walk up to the bar.

By the time you’re clocking out, he’s a little tipsy, leaning against the wall of the divebar.

‘You waited.’

‘You got me a free beer, only fair.’

‘You have some more time to spare? Maybe you could extend your protector hours a little, walk me home?’

It was the game, he knew it. Why else would you have suggested he stay, if you didn’t want to take him home? But it’s a game he loves, he’s a little rusty, that’s a given but he does love it and is happy to play along. It’s like flexing a sore muscle. It’s not exactly comfortable just yet, but it does feel good.

‘Uh, you see, that might just cost you another beer.’

‘You’ll have to come back for that, pretty boy.’

‘Was planning on it anyway, free beer or no free beer.’

‘That’s a good answer.’

‘Lead the way.’

The conversation is a little fractured. A question here and there, where are you from and what do you do, have you ever been to this place, you must try that. He told you how he found a new calling in being the town handyman while he helped rebuild it after the earthquakes and shit. You remembered the news, the front pages, how it didn’t seem to add up. You tell him you dropped out of college, only recently reapplying, studying to be a counselor during the day, picking up shifts at the library and the bar anytime you could. It’s nice. It feels easy, despite the fact that you can both feel the yet untold sadness and pain behind those stories. The beer and conversation are loosening him up in a way he hasn’t felt with a stranger in a long time. He even made you giggle a couple of times and it warms him even more than the beer.

’You wanna come in?’ You ask when reaching the door. There’s no bashfulness, no shyness lingering there. He’s kinda known, more hoped, this would happen but the lack of those things still catches him a little off guard. You keep surprising him, tilting the axis of the world around him a little and he finds that he likes it. And he’s really glad, he sobered up on the walk home.

He nods with a lazy, crooked smile and it makes you huff out a little laugh as you open the door.

After you switch on the fairy lights, he’s studying your place, making your insecurities rise a little. It was small, a little messy, you weren’t expecting anyone. Books scattered on the small table and the couch, a highlighter, a few empty mugs and a soup bowl, a couple plants, a throw blanket crumpled up - the fairy lights make everything look warm, cozy. Just like you - he thinks.

‘You have a nice place.’

‘Thank you.’ Your voice comes from closer behind him than he anticipated, it makes him flinch a little.

‘Sorry’ you murmur, even closer now, your breath hitting him through his shirt. ‘Didn’t mean to scare you.’ You place a barely there kiss on his shoulder, your gentle hand coming up on the opposite shoulder with a reassuring, light squeeze. Those two things alone are enough to send his head into a tailspin and make him want to cry at how sweet you are. How receptive you were to his sudden… shyness. Tenseness? He didn’t really know what was going on with him.

‘It’s okay, sorry for being jumpy,’ he said, bringing a hand up to yours that was now snaked around his chest, a little too close to his heart.

‘Sorry for the mess. Wasn’t really planning on having company.’

He shook his head with a tiny, breathy laugh.

‘It’s okay.’ He turned around, keeping your hand in his, brushing your knuckles a little.

Your were silent, looking up to him with wide eyes, the fairy lights and that dangerous something twinkling in them in a way that made him fear he was already well and truly fucked.

You could both feel the air shift, tension getting thick, and he was really glad you took charge, tangling your fingers into his hair at the nape of his neck, brushing the apples of his cheek with your thumb, gently pushing him into the direction of the couch, slowly but deliberately, giving him time to stop but making clear what you want. You pushed him down softly, questioning look in your eyes, before he nodded and you lowered yourself onto his lap.

‘Hi’ you breathed when you were nose to nose again.

‘Hi’ he breathed back.

‘You nervous pretty boy?’

‘I-‘ his breath hitched a little when you pressed into him with a little more intent. ‘Yeah, shit, yeah, a little. Been a while.’

‘We can stop, if you want.’

He shook his head, placing his hands on either side of your hips. Not grabbing yet, just anchoring himself maybe.

‘I need you to say it, pretty boy.’ You whispered. Your thumb brushed over his eyebrow and it took every single scrap of self control left in him to not let out a whine.

‘No.’ It came out croaked, like he had to clear his throat. ‘No, I don’t wanna stop. I’ve been wondering what you taste like all night. Just, maybe go slow?’

‘I can do slow. Don’t have anywhere to be.’ You kept caressing his face with sincere finger tips, brushing away his fears one stroke at a time.

When you finally leaned in to kiss him he thought he might pass out. Your lips were so fucking soft, your every movement tender and affectionate and he had to try really hard to not let the thought about how he’s undeserving, unworthy of these things seep into the forefront of his mind. Lucky, you kind of occupied every single one of his senses. You smelled like deodorant and detergent, a little worn out from your shift at the bar. He didn’t mind. It made you feel real. When your hand dipped beneath his shirt you felt him tense up, so you paused. He squeezed his eyes shut when you looked up at him, eyes all doey, questioning, a little worried.

‘I’m sorry’ he whispered. He let his forehead fall against your shoulder.

‘Can you look at me, please?’ You were trying to coax him out of whatever this state was with soft and steady touches ‘Please, baby.’

And how the fuck do you say no to that? It was almost unbearable, the honesty, the concern in your eyes.

‘Do you want me to stop?’

‘No.’

‘Want me to turn off the lights?’

‘No. Wanna see you.’

The grin you give him makes his heart skip.

‘Smooth.’

‘Still have some moves left, it turns out.’

‘Let me guess: high school heartthrob?’

‘I don’t know how to answer that without sounding like a jackass.’

‘So, yes.’

‘You wanna keep being a smartass or you wanna use your pretty mouth for something else, maybe?’

‘Oh, look at that! Here I am, trying to make you relax and you go straight to suggesting I suck your dick.’

‘What?! No, wait that’s n-‘

He couldn’t finish the sentence because you stopped his rambling with a kiss. Little more force in it now. You’re holding his face like he is something precious and he thinks he might want to believe that he is someday. He kissed back with more fervor, his hands started moving up your back and you could feel him relax again a little bit against your touch. Coming up for a little air, you looked at him.

‘Wanna go to the bedroom?’

‘Yes.’ It was eager, hungry even and it made you chuckle.

‘Come on, pretty boy.’

You led him into the bedroom where you realized why he was so tense. He took his shirt off with a sigh, and that’s when you saw the scars. Healed and scabbed, probably a couple years old.

He thinks back to that night often when things get tough. The way you traced them with delicate fingers, the way you kissed along them. It was the first time he felt remotely like a normal person in years. Like someone who can have nice things. Like someone who deserved this. He was on the verge of tears but he wanted it so bad. And so he kept himself together, kissed you like he meant it, kissed down your body, spent his sweet time with his head between your thighs, until they shook, until tears were prickling in the corner of eyes, which he also kissed away. He was nervous, about being scrawny, about the bones showing, poking his skin, about the scars but you didn’t bet an eye. He only saw hunger, want, felt it in the way you tangled your fingers in his hair. And you made it look easy. Wanting him looked easy when you did it and it made him a little crazy. You made him relax, laughing with him when he fumbled with the condom packet and again when you hit your head on the headboard at a particularly hard thrust. You wore each other out that night, he also remembers that. You fell asleep tracing patterns onto his chest and while he struggled a little, like most nights, he also fell into a deep slumber next to you and didn’t wake until the early afternoon. He almost started to panic when he didn’t see you next to him in the bed but that quickly calmed down when he heard your humming from outside and something cluttering in the kitchen. He got dressed and quietly joined you.

‘Hey’ you greeted him with a smile and he thought that maybe he likes this even more than the band t-shirt. You were still a little sleep mussed but you clearly had a shower, flowery smell lingering on you now. Hair now let down, wearing nothing but an oversized shirt and panties, making breakfast. He could get used to this, he thinks, immediately followed by the thought that maybe he should pace himself. Maybe it was just sex. You didn’t seem like that but he has been wrong before.

‘Hi.’

‘Your timing is great, I’m almost ready with breakfast.’

‘Hm, that sounds amazing but I have to go. Robin is probably freaking out already and I promised we’d go out for lunch today, which I’m also kind of already late for.’

‘Well, I’m sad now, but I understand. Do you want a cup of coffee at least?'

‘Yeah, coffee would be great’ he says with a smile.

You made him coffee, you put your feet in his lap at the table, you caressed his cheeks, you whispered so, last night was fun, in a cheeky, flirty tone. And he knew he wanted more of this, more of you. So, he asked for a pen and paper, jotted his number down and said you should do it again, you still owe him a beer after all. You gave him your number as well, just in case.

‘Steve H., huh? I don’t get a full last name?’

‘Call me and maybe I’ll tell you.’

He left and he called you that same day. Robin was elated when she found out her best friend “fucking finally got laid”. Which he took some offence to. He just wanted you to know that he meant it, that he wanted to see you again, and he was really really close to thanking you but he controlled himself.

That was three years ago now and he still had days when he woke up and couldn't believe how lucky he was. You fit into his life so perfectly. The kids loved you, everyone loved you, it was easy. You kept your apartment in the city but moved in with him not too long after that first time. You wanted to be close, all the time and it made his heart sore because he didn’t have to feel shame for being clingy, you were just the same.

That’s also how Sundays became a time for what you called family dinners. Sometimes your friends, sometimes his, sometimes both, always some good food, some chaos and a lot of life.

The first time you suggested was before the anniversary of Jonathan’s death. You made an unbearable day almost nice and he felt like he never could thank you for that.

‘H, huh? I don’t even get a full last name?’ He asked as he came up behind you in the kitchen.

‘Hmm, help get these out and I’ll think about it.’

‘You drive a hard bargain. You’re lucky, you’re pretty.’

‘Alright lover boy, you can show me later, how about that?’

‘Can’t wait.’

The conversation was lively, everyone talking over each other in the living room that was a little too small for that many people but no one ever cared about that.

‘Hey, I meant to ask,’ Robin started ‘have you heard that Mr. Reynolds is retiring?’

‘The old basketball coach?’ Lucas inquired, looking for an answer you were as well.

‘Uh-huh. Says his knees are giving out.’ Nancy chimed in.

‘Yeah, so now they’re looking for a new one to coach for the team.’

‘Huh, wonder who’ll take over.’

Max and Dustin rolled their eyes, the latter murmured something that sounded like I swear to god, which was surprisingly mild for him.

‘Coach Harrington has a nice ring to it.’ Will chimed in.

You smiled down into your glass. ‘It does’ You offered while squeezing his thigh under the table.

‘He would have to get back into shape first.’ Dustin quipped and you knew he’d hit a nerve. You had to buy a new shirt for him last week, a size up, and it was already messing with his head.

‘Hey! What is that supposed to mean?!’ Steve exclaimed.

‘I’m just saying, you’re not exactly in athlete shape, no shame in that!’

‘I think you look great.’ El said quietly and Mike frowned.

‘Alright children, everyone settle down!’ you geared into mom-mode, which was required sometimes. ‘How about everyone shutting up and I bring out some dessert?'

You gave Steve’s shoulder a little squeeze before leaving for the kitchen.

***

The kids left later and you had to admit, it was nice to just have the two of you. But you can see that Steve’s still upset. You can see that he’s in his head, he barely said a word, his touches, kisses being on autopilot. You were doing the dishes, you washing, him drying, a domestic, familiar routine.

‘Are you just not going to talk to me anymore?’

‘Hm?’

‘Come on, I can tell you’re still upset about what Dustin said, baby.’

‘Wha- Of course I’m upset about it! I used to be the top athlete and now I’m turning into-’

‘Stop that! Right now!’ You raise your pointer finger in warning. ‘First of all, we’re not in high school anymore. I’m not in love with you because you’re captain of the football team.’

‘Basketball and swim team actually.’ He corrected you quietly with a somewhat guilty look on his face.

‘I know’ you glare at him with a deadpan look. ‘I was trying to make a point about how much I don’t care. I don’t love you because of how many pushups you can do or homeruns you hit’ he knows that at this point you’re doing it on purpose but he still winces a little. ‘I love you because you’re kind and you take care of the people you love.’ You take a step closer to him. He’s still staring at the counter, arms crossed in front of his chest. ‘Second of all, it's happy-weight.’ you smirk at him.

‘What?’

‘Happy-weight. People who are happy and feel safe in their relationships, tend to put on some weight.’

‘Really?’ He can’t help but smile at that a little.

‘Really. I gained a couple of pounds too since we’ve been together.’

‘No, you didn’t’ he seems sincere enough but you still have your suspicions that maybe he’s just saying it in case it’s a trap.

‘I absolutely did! I haven’t been able to go out for dinner without having to unbutton my jeans at the end in months.’ He finally chuckles at that. ‘Have you noticed?’

‘This feels like a trap’ You snort out a laugh.

‘It’s not a trap, I absolutely did! Do you care?’

‘Of course I don’t! I haven’t even noticed, I swear!’

‘Well, then there you go! Then why do you think I would care?’

He shrugs.

‘And third’ you take another step, bigger this time, reaching out for his jaw, lifting his head so you can look him in the eyes. ‘I like you softer’ you say quietly and he swears he melts under your touch and gaze. ‘Softer means no more getting beat up’ you say as you trace his forehead, watching as his eyes close for a second. ‘Softer means no more running away from creatures from another dimension that want to kill you.’

‘No more trying to save someone’s life because they were stupid enough to risk it so they can save us’ he says.

A pang of hurt goes straight to your heart. You know he still feels guilty about that sometimes.

‘Steve Harrington, I would risk my life for you any day of the week, but yes, no more of that either. I will love you with a little tummy because we eat so much good food, and I will love you with wrinkles in the corner of your eyes because we laugh so much and I will love when you start to have gray hairs because you worry about me all the time. It’s just life, and it’s good.’

Steve’s eyes start to well up and he doesn’t know what to say. He probably couldn’t say anything at this point, because holy shit, how on earth did he get so lucky? So, he doesn’t say anything, he just starts kissing you all over your face, and then your lips and continues down you jawline and neck and hopes to god you can’t feel the rogue teardrops that manage to escape. You do, but you don’t say anything. You can’t say it out loud but you can feel it. You can feel the weight of being loved so much, so openly, because it’s the exact same way you feel, when you notice that every time you catch his eyes on the other side of the room, he’s already staring at you.

It’s been a long road and it hasn’t always been easy. You both had to peel back so many layers of hurt, of pain, of fear and in the beginning you both had your own attempts to run.

The neon glow from Starcourt Mall flickered behind you like a broken promise, casting long shadows across the parking lot as you leaned against Steve's car. The summer night hung heavy, warm and restless, and you crossed your arms tightly over your chest - trying to will away the sick feeling twisting in your stomach.

Tonight was supposed to be easy. Movies. Fries. Dumb jokes behind the counter at Scoops Ahoy.

But then she showed up.

Nancy Wheeler.

She hadn't been cruel - polite even - but that didn't matter. It was the way she looked at Steve, the way her fingers casually ran up his arm, how her voice dipped into something familiar when she said, "I miss how easy things were with you, Steve." Like she had some unspoken right to him. Like you were just passing through.

And the worst part?

Steve didn't stop her.

Now, he stood a few feet away, fingers buried in his hair, clearly trying to figure out what to say. You weren't going to make it easier.

He took a breath and stepped forward. "Look, I know how that probably seemed, but it's not -" He stopped, sighing. "She doesn't mean anything to me like that anymore, okay?"

He reached for your hand, hesitantly. "Just... talk to me."

You stared at the pavement. "You obviously mean something to her though."

It came out smaller than you intended, bitter and tight. The image of Nancy's perfectly manicured fingers dragging along his arms still burned in your brain.

Steve exhaled sharply. "Jesus, do you think I wanted that?" His voice wasn't angry - just desperate, like he needed you to hear him. "I didn't ask her to say that, and I sure as hell didn't ask her to touch me like that."

He stepped forward, gaze locked on yours. "She doesn't get to do that anymore. And I - I should've shut it down faster. I should've done more." He swallowed hard. "But I don't want her. I want you."

His hand found yours again, wrapping his fingers around them gently. "You're the one I think about all the time. The one I want to spend Friday nights with. The one I want to..." he trailed off, breath catching. "It's you. Only you."

You blinked back the emotion tightening your throat.

"I'm not anything like her, Steve," you murmured. "I'm a band geek who spends Friday nights in my room, not partying. I play D&D with the boys instead of stealing my parents' liquor. I don't... I don't want you expecting her when I'm just... when I'm just me."

Steve's face fell, like your words physically pained him.

"Are you kidding me?" his said, voice cracking. "You think I'm chasing some version of her? That I'd be standing here, saying this, if I didn't want you?"

His grip on your hands tightened slightly - anchoring. "I don't want someone who makes me feel like I have to be better just to deserve them. I want you - the band geek who kicks my ass at D&D and knows more about movie soundtracks than anyone I've ever met."

He stepped closer still, his voice softer. "You think I'd be out here like an idiot, begging you to believe me if you weren't exactly what I wanted?"

You wanted to believe him. God, you did.

"I - I just... why me?"

Steve cupped your face gently, brushing his thumbs across your cheeks. His eyes were so soft it made your chest ache.

"Because you see me," he whispered. "Not King Steve. Not Nancy's ex. Not the babysitter. You see me. And you make me want to be better - not because I have to - but because I want to. For you."

His forehead dipped to yours, his voice barely a breath.

"I don't want Nancy. I want you."

You could barely get the words out. "Okay."

Steve laughed softly, the sound almost disbelieving. "Yeah?"

You nodded, still in shock at how soft he was with you - how sincere. His hands slipped away from your face, and for the first time that night, you felt the tension start to fade.

"I promise," he said, his tone more certain now. "I won't make you regret this." He glanced at you with a crooked grin. "But if you ever want revenge... you can steal my hair products. Give me a buzzcut or something."

You smirked, nudging him. "I think you owe me fries, Mr. I Peaked in High School."

He behaved like an idiot that day, stuttering over his words and dropping her change, she said she didn't mind, she was patient and sweet, she gave Steve a toothache within the first minute of talking to her. If you could count mint please as a conversation. 

He liked her, he liked her pretty necklace and frilly socks, her soft smile and her kind eyes. The second she left Steve decided he was in love with her, he just knew it already, the sound of her voice playing on his mind for the rest of the day was a pretty clear sign to him. 

She had come back at least thirteen times since then, every time alone, every time mint and every time making Steve’s head spin. He had found out that she had a pretty pendent on her necklace that was the stars of her sign, she liked daisies and lavenders, she lived on the next street to him, she liked when it rained in the summer because she said it was good for the plants and she didn't think his uniform looked dorky, she even said it was cute which made Steve’s entire year.  

But the next time Steve saw her she wasn’t in the mall, and she saw him first. In the grocery store with a pile of things balancing in his hands, and him lightly cursing himself for not getting a basket. She missed his usual sailors uniform but he did look very nice in his own clothes too. 

She felt too nervous to go and say anything, toying for a little while whenever to or not to start up a conversation but then something started slipping from his hand and she just had to rush over and help him. Everything fell to the floor the second she was standing in front of him, in a little denim shorts and a flowy white shirt, how could he not have just let everything go. 

She pinched her brows together, biting her lip to stop from smiling. Steve smiled anyway because he did look like a fool but he wasn't sure he minded if it meant he got to see her play with her bottom lip between her teeth. She had coaxed on a light shade of glossy pink today, he could see it. 

“Hi Steve.” She crouched down to help him gather his things, taking note of the many packets of red vines and the cherry coke. Her voice was so soft and light, it reminded him of that feeling when it's the middle of summer, just like now, and someone hands you a glass of lemonade.

He bent down to help, the blood rushing to his cheeks as he tried to pull himself together, he kept telling himself she was just another girl but that wasn’t true, she was the girl.

“You know every time I see you I make an idiot of myself.” He shook his head, causing a few loose curls to fall over his eyes, he pushed it back with a flexed hand and she felt the heat rushing to her face. 

He had pretty hands, she had noticed before but she didn’t think she would get used to it, then again she didn’t think anyone could get used to looking at someone as handsome as Steve Harrington. 

They both stood to their full heights, him towering over her just enough to make her stomach flip. At scoops he was always leaning on the counter, vending to her height but now, he was much taller then she first thought. 

“That’s not true.” God, she was so sweet he didn’t even need anything to fix his sweet tooth, talking to her cured his cravings indefinitely. 

“It’s okay, it is. I just get nervous around pretty girls.” He really was nervous, he was surprised he didn't stutter, but he had been so desperate to call her pretty, it always burned the tip of his tongue whenever he saw her. She was the kind of pretty where Steve wasn't sure if she was some form of an angel or a fairy.

Her gaze softened, and her lips parted just so. “Oh.” She glanced at the floor, taking away his privilege to look in her eyes. 

His heart raced, maybe he shouldn't have said that, it had made her nervous he could tell. He knew now from their little interactions that she was pretty shy and sometimes struggled talking to him, he quickly apologised, trying to make her feel more comfortable. 

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay, I should-” She pointed behind her, offering him a warm smile that he tried to memorise.

“Yeah, I’ll see you around or something, or call. I don’t have your number so I can't call but-” He cut himself off before he made any more of a fool of himself. She laughed softly to herself, glancing back as she walked away, taking Steve’s heart and soul with her. 

The next time Steve saw her he rushed to take his hat off, he wanted to ask her if she wanted to catch a movie or something, very casual and relaxed, not while he was wearing his stupid sailors hat though. 

She came over while he was fixing his hair, pretty clips in her own hair that made him think about her sitting in front of her mirror getting ready and how much he would kill to be that mirror. God, would she ever do his hair, he wondered. She had on a short blue dress with little flowers on that he hadn't seen her in before, he decided today that was his new favourite colour. Whatever colour she wore next time would just take its place.

She held onto her own wrist, her hands clasped in front of her, he noticed the way she drummed her fingers against her pulse point and tried to remember it, she had little signs that he picked up that told him when she was anxious. 

“I, well I was, I was wondering-” He leaned in a little closer, almost like he was trying to count the colours in her eyes. “If you wanted, I mean you don’t have to, but if you wanted to, maybe we could see a movie or something later, the drive-in's showing some old romantic movie, I thought you might like it.” 

After he was done almost tripping up every other word and touching his hair way too much he watched her bite her bottom lip then let it go, a simple action that had him swallow down hard, practically bruising his throat. 

“That sounds nice, should I-”

“I can pick you up, about eight?”

“Okay.”

Steve waited in his car so he could pick her up at exactly eight, he wanted her to know he was reliable and that he was a man of his word, even if he had been ready two hours before and changed about five times, he was never going to risk being late for her. 

He went to the door, some pretty lavender tied together with a purple ribbon in his hand, the florets said that it was perfect for a first date and Steve simple had to trust her with his whole heart because every detail was important to him. 

He peered inside her window slightly and everything inside was so her. There were plants and books everywhere, flower arrangements on the table and sparkly crystals on every shelf, and Steve just knew from one look that it smelt like a meadow, like her. 

“Steve?” He stood straight, trying to act like he wasn’t being nosy, though she didn't seem to mind she was smiling at him like he was some kind of adorable idiot, which for her, he was.

“I was just, I hope you like these, you said you liked lavender so-” He handed her the flowers and watched her face light up, he surely thought someone this beautiful got flowers every single day, but her reaction said different.

She smiled, inhaling there comforting scent and noticing how the ribbon matched her dress, she head back inside and Steve followed with his hands in his pockets, he didn't want to risk breaking anything delicate in her house. 

She laid the lavender down on the table, taking the ribbon and tying it in her hair. The sight made Steve’s legs feel weak, in fact his whole body ached watching her tie the ribbon he had touched and picked out into her hair. “Are you ready?”

Steve could only nod, he was completely lost for words. 

He brought her a vanilla coke and some sweetened popcorn. He had asked Robin to explain the movie beforehand so he would know what he was talking about. The thing Steve was struggling with was watching the movie. Because how could he look at some movie star with that girl sitting next to him, with her smiling and playing with her lips when they kissed, with her sweet scent filling his car, with her hand inches from his.

He intertwined his little finger with hers, the brush of skin on skin making the car feel suddenly a lot warm, even though it was the middle of summer and Steve had his windows rolled down. No one had ever touched her hand like that before and it felt like a dream, he felt like a dream to her. 

She glanced at him, just to find him already looking at her, she looked away quickly and he thought it was the most adorable thing he had ever seen. She took a chance and pushed her hand closer to his, and silently he held it. They were like two nervous high schools, wondering which one was going to make the first move. 

“You look really goddamn beautiful tonight you know.” Steve whispered leaning in a little, she must have known, how couldn't she. He took his hand not holding hers and brushed his fingers over her ribbon, his ribbon. 

With his hand so close to her face she wondered if he could hear her racing heart or the pounding in her chest. “Thanks Stevie.” It fell from her lips effortlessly, it just felt right for her to call him that, like she was always supposed to. 

The nickname pulled at every one of his threading heart strings, this girl was going to kill him and he hasn't even kissed her yet and, God, did he want to. He wet his bottom lip without thinking about it, tasting his coke on his tongue and wondering if he'd taste the vanilla on hers. 

“Can I kiss you?” He whispered softly, the words just as light and pure as he was. 

“Please do.” She whispered back, her voice like honey and within seconds his hand had cupped her cheek, her skin felt so soft against his, her face fitting perfectly in his palm. She looked very nervous, shyly looking between his lips and his eyes, her gaze flickering.

“First time?” She nodded. “It’s okay, I’ll be nice and slow, yeah?” He pressed his lips to her, taking her top lip between his, being just as slow and soft as he said he would be. He still made it a deep kiss, trying to pour all his affection into it because he couldn't hide how much he already knew he loved her. 

"Is that right?" Frank asks, tilting his head with a mischievous glint in his eyes. His hands move down your body where they squeeze your ass, and he pulls you closer into him. "How about round four, hmm?"

"I have things to do that aren't you," You tell him stubbornly. "Now go, before I start to find you annoying and delete your number."

He fakes shock with a gasp, placing his hand on his chest. "You're breaking my heart, legs," He whines, before slowly sinking to his knees and nuzzling his face against your thighs. "C'mon. Just sit on my face again, mommy-"

You cut him off by grabbing a fistful of his hair and pulling his head back, before leaning down and glaring at him. "Leave. Now."

Knowing not to push you, Frank does as you say, begrudgingly putting his clothes back on before walking out of your bedroom.

Not even five minutes of peace are granted to you before your door swings open again, making you groan with frustration. In walks Bucky, which only annoys you further.

"What do you want?" You ask, sitting down on the chaise lounge.

"Was that Castle I saw limping out of here?" He asks, narrowing his eyes.

You shrug, sinking lower in your seat. "Not my fault he's such a slut," You say simply.

"Says the one who's sent a different man limping home every day this week," He mumbles under his breath.

"Is that the only breach of privacy you wanna commit today, or do you have more bullshit to say to me?" You ask him with a glare.

He suddenly grimaces, turning his face. "Do you mind? It's 11 in the morning; I don't wanna see your pubes right now," He grumbles.

You tie up the gown with a snort and cross your right leg over your left.

Bucky looks disappointed as he looks around the room, taking in the empty bottles and filled ashtrays. "It's been three months, boss," He utters curtly, resting his hands on his hips. "You need to get your shit together."

"I don't need to do anything," You retort. "I'm the Queen of New York."

"Well, the Queen of New York needs a shower," He claps back, before narrowing his eyes. "And a shave."

"You can leave, now," You mumble.

He walks over to you, giving you a stern look. "Up, now. You have a meeting tonight," He says, looking you up and down. "And you gotta look good."

"Why?" You ask him with a frown.

"Because you're meeting the man that's gonna help us with our diamond-shaped problem," He says with a growing smirk.

Immediately, you sit up, and your eyes widen. "Seriously?" You scoff. "You got me a meeting with Stark?"

"The one and only," He replies smugly, before clapping his hands together. "Now, get your ass up and ready. You need to be ready by 7."

"That's, like, eight hours from now," You point out with a confused frown.

He raises his brow and looks away before mumbling, "And you'll need every minute."

Once you finally fit Bucky's beauty standards, he sends you on your way to the pretentious restaurant, which is filled with pretentious people who look too rich for their own good.

And the richest and most pretentious of all, of course, is your date.

"Have you tried the oysters here?" Tony asks you with a quirked brow. "They serve them with fried garlic, and it is divine."

Looking through the menu, you shake your head. "Can't say I have," You admit. "I usually get the ratatouille."

"Boring," He utters before smirking and raising his hand. "Garcon! We're ready to order."

He orders oysters and steak for the both of you, much to your chagrin as you were really looking forward to that fucking ratatouille, while you do your best to keep up a polite smile.

"And now she wants the Phantom, too," He finishes his long, long story with an incredulous scoff, before leaning forward and lowering his voice. "Word of advice, belle, don't get married. Or at least, not to a woman. They're vicious things, wives."

His words hit a nerve and you sit back in your seat, doing your best not to glare at him. "I appreciate the sordid tales, but I didn't come here to talk about marriage, Anthony," You remind him curtly. "I came here to-" You stop mid-sentence when you spot someone painfully familiar walking closer to you, and for a split second, you're convinced your heart has stopped beating.

It's as though time slows down. As though the other patrons and tables and lights and plates of food disappear into irrelevance and all you can see is him. That hasn't changed. The way everything loses significance when he's in the room. The way you realize that nothing could ever be as beautiful or captivating as him. Steve's hair is a little longer, his beard's a little thicker, and he's dressed like every other pretentious fat cat in the vicinity.

And he's being seated opposite the last person you wanted to see him with.

Natasha's grown out her hair, ditched the blonde, and gone back to her signature dark red, but you'd recognize her smug smirk through a paper bag. Neither of them notice you as the waiter talks them through the wine list but a stone's throw away from your table, and it takes every bit of your strength not to react.

"What is it?" Tony says suddenly, pulling you out of your thoughts. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

Shaking your head, you clear your throat and sit up. "Nothing. I just... lost my train of thought," You say, noticing the impatient look in his eyes as he scans the room in search of a waiter.

"Let's get out of here and find a bar that sells real alcohol," He says arrogantly, turning his face and raising his hand once he spots a worker.

"No!" You say quickly out of panic as your eyes widen. Tony turns back to you, confused, and so you quickly reach out to rest your hand on his. "I want dessert. They do an amazing chocolate fondue here."

The fondue is sub-par, but something is making you want to stay. A certain blond-haired, blue-eyed something.

Tony narrows his eyes at you suspiciously just as the waiter approaches the table. "What can I do for you, Sir?" He asks politely with an expectant look.

For a few seconds, Tony says nothing, and you deflate. But then he holds up his hand. "Get us some fondue and fruit," He orders lowly, making you smile.

"Thank you," You say, feeling both relief and pure anxiety at the notion of being here any longer.

"This fondue better be incredible," Tony grumbles. "I wanted to go somewhere a little quieter, belle, so we could talk."

You know what he really means, so you flutter your eyelashes and smile sweetly at him, rubbing the back of his hand with your fingers. "We can talk here, Anthony," You say, tilting your head. "About whatever you want."

"Oh, really?" He asks you with a smirk as he becomes re-interested. "You mean you didn't just schedule this dinner because you need my help?"

"Of course that's part of it," You admit bashfully, slowly pulling off the thick, onyx ring from his middle finger. "But there's a reason I feel so comfortable coming to you for help. I wouldn't just wine and dine anyone."

He watches with amusement as you slip the ring onto your own finger, tilting his head. "And what's so great about me?" He asks, eagerly awaiting you to stroke his ego.

You open your mouth to answer but your eyes slip over to Steve again - and this time, he's looking back at you. Unsure as to when he noticed you were sitting there, you freeze in place. Fuck. What now?

Tony glances over his shoulder before looking back at you with a raised brow. "Ain't that the woman you want dead?" He asks.

Your eyes widen and you rip your gaze away from Steve, giving Tony all your attention. "What? No, I don't want Romanoff dead," You clarify. "She has something I need. Something she stole, that doesn't belong to her, over which she has no fucking right."

Taken aback by your passion, Tony whistles lowly. "Jeez. Must be something valuable, huh?" He theorizes.

Letting out a sigh, you rub your forehead. "It's a diamond. Rare and expensive," You explain.

"And she stole it from you?" He wonders.

"She might as well have," You grumble, before sitting back. "Look, I owe someone a debt, and this is how he wants it paid. I need the Elphora, and I don't know where the fuck she's stashed it."

"I see," He mutters, stroking his chin. "I'll have my guys look this over and see what we can do."

"Thank you, Anthony," You say with a smile. "I appreciate it. Really."

"Words are just words, belle," He says, smirking at you. "I need to see your appreciation through action, so I know you truly mean it."

Fuck's sake. You knew he wouldn't make it easy for you, but the thought of owing someone yet another debt is exhausting.

Glancing behind him, you see Natasha reach her hand out and place it on Steve's, stroking it. The sight fills you with a fiery rage, but you clench your jaw in an effort to contain yourself. Calling over a waiter, you wait until he walks over before leaning up to him.

"Do me a favor and send a bottle of the wine we had to that table over there," You request of him, nodding at Steve's table. The waiter nods and leaves.

"What's that about?" Tony questions you with a frown. "Sucking up to her?"

You shrug, leaning forward. "Something like that," You say before smiling at him and softening your voice. "Now, what were you saying? You want me to show my appreciation?"

Tony leans forward too, taking your hand in his and rubbing his finger over his ring you're still wearing. "I'm a very simple man, belle," He claims lowly. "I value the simple pleasures in life."

"Is that right?" You wonder, looking behind him at Steve who has just been served the bottle of wine you sent over. The waiter utters something to him and Natasha before all three of them glance over to you, and you give them a charming wave and smirk. Steve frowns, and you quickly look back at Tony.

"I wanna fuck you," He says bluntly, resting his chin on his hand.

Sighing, you sit back before uttering, "So much for subtlety."

"Subtlety is a waste of time with a woman in your position," Tony tells you smugly. "You're desperate for my help. You need a favor. This is my condition."

Tapping the table, you glance back over at Steve. Natasha's pouring him some wine, and he laughs softly at something she says before taking a long sip. He then looks at you, his smile faltering when he catches your eye. Once again, everything around you fades into irrelevance.

Snap out of it. He doesn't trust you. He hasn't tried to contact you once since you left him. He's sitting there on a date with Natasha fucking Romanoff. Who knows how long they've been seeing each other?

You turn your attention back to Tony and give him a smile. "Your place or mine?"

His smirk deepens. "And I'm supposed to believe that bedding the Queen of New York is that easy?" He asks you incredulously.

It makes you feel nauseous to be flirting with him when Steve is so close, but you tell yourself to toughen up and bite the bullet. You can see that Steve's watching through your peripheral vision, but you're glad that he is, because you want to hurt him as much as he's hurt you.

No, more.

Feeling as though the cold-hearted Queen you once knew has returned from the dead to possess your body, you stand up and walk across to Tony before sitting on his lap and draping your arms around his shoulders. He doesn't protest as you lean down and bring your lips to his, engaging him in a heated kiss. You can hear the blood rushing in your head as your ears pound. Tony's fingers digging into your hips feel like blunt daggers. The warmth from his body is cold and repelling, but you don't pull away. Is that the sound of Steve's heart breaking, or just Tony's teeth clashing against yours? His tongue isn't as sweet as Steve's, whose mouth is usually occupied with the lingering taste of cupcakes or cookies or brownies. The kiss is stale and loveless; a reflection of your life for the past three months.

Tony's the first to pull away. "As much as I'm enjoying warring with your tongue," He begins with a cocky grin. "Why don't you let me get the bill and take you back to my condo, rather than give all these nice people a peep show?"

Nodding, you get off of him and smooth down your dress. "I'm gonna go to the ladies room," You tell him, unable to spare Steve another glance before rushing off to the bathroom, not wanting to see the look on his face.

Just as you reach out to push the door to the women's bathroom open, you're pulled away. Prepared to grab your gun from your garter, you tense your muscles, relaxing when your back hits the wall and you're faced with none other than the owner of Stevie's Sweeties.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" You ask him gravely, glaring at him. Your heart is pounding in your chest and all you can think of to do is be cold and brutish, a defense mechanism you've had your whole life.

"We need to talk," Steve tells you, furrowing his brows.

"No, Steven, we don't," You counter curtly. "You said more than enough the day I walked out, which ironically wasn't much at all."

"This isn't about you and I," He informs you. "It's about the diamond."

His words only serve to offend you and your ego is bruised, because a small part of you was hoping he was about to beg you to take him back.

"What do you know about the diamond?" You interrogate him incredulously.

"More than you," He claims. "Natasha-"

"I don't know what the fuck you think this is, Steven, but I'm not about to sit here discussing my job with you," You cut him off coldly.

Ignoring you, he continues, "There's more to this than you think. That diamond never belonged to Maximoff. Not rightfully, anyway."

"Oh, please," You scoff. "Is that what Tasha told you?"

"No," He says, taking you by surprising. "This goes deeper than you know."

"Don't patronize me," You hiss, pushing him back. "I don't give a fuck who the diamond belongs to. Pietro wants it, and I owe it to him."

"And you're gonna use that guy to get it?" Steve asks you bitterly.

You smirk, tilting your head. "Aw, are you jealous?" You ask him with faux sympathy. "Was it hard watching me kiss him, button?"

Clenching his jaw, he steps backwards. "Just hear me out, Y/N-"

"I'd rather go back to Stark's place and fuck him," You say bluntly. "Thanks for the offer, though."

"Y/N," He whispers, his broken tone making your chest ache.

Stay focused.

"Goodbye, Steve," You bid him, beginning to walk away while calling out, "Have fun fucking Tasha."

i no longer have a taglist, but if you follow @kinanabinksupdates and turn on notifications, you'll know when i post.

“I mean seriously! How reckless can one person be? I gave you orders and it is not a personal choice wether or not you follow them. You do. You do because I am in charge. I make the calls.” Steve yelled, his rant going on for nearly fifteen minutes now.

You had heard enough. “Are you done?” You snapped, silencing Steve. He turned in his chair to look at you, your body curled into the passenger chair.

“No. No, I’m not done, actually. You could’ve gotten yourself killed, Y/n! From now on you don’t take orders from Tony, or anyone else for that matter if they’re not the one leading the mission. Is that understood?” His jaw was tight and his eyes narrow, locked on your heated face.

You hated when he went all Captain on you like this, shouting at you like you were just another member of the team and not his girlfriend for fucks sake. It’s one of the reasons you never liked going on duo missions with him anymore.

“I asked you a question, Y/n. Answer me.” His voice was dark. He wasn’t playing around.

“I understand.”

“Look at my face when you speak to me.” He ordered, earning an eye roll from you.

You turned to face him, legs planted firm on the ground. Your eyes were just as cold as his. “I said I understand, Captain.” You spat, quickly moving to your prior position on your chair before he could say something else.

“Can’t wait to add ‘unable to follow orders’ on the ever-growing list…” You mumbled into your palm. You didn’t intend on Steve hearing you, but of course he did anyway.

“What did you just say?” He asked, looking at the sky ahead.

You huffed. “It was a fucking joke, Steve.”

He shook his head, pressing a few buttons on the glowing panel in front of him. “No, say it again. What list?”

God, he was relentless. You buried your head in your hand, refusing to answer. Steve could never let things go.

“Are you serious right now, Y/n? What fucking list are you-”

“Oh my god, Steve! I’m talking about the list of shit I hate about myself! You know- how I can’t follow orders, I’m ignorant, bitchy, I complain too much, I’m impulsive-” You yelled, counting the traits on your fingers for dramatic affect, “and that’s only my personality, don’t even get me started on the shit I hate about my body.” The words flew out faster than you could catch them, not meaning to say aloud that last part. You slumped in your seat, chest huffing and face hot with an annoyed pout on your lips.

Steve was pissed now, his knuckles burning white from his death grip on the steering controls. “For the sake of keeping the jet in tact, I’m going to pretend like you didn’t just say that. I don’t want to hear another word from you until we get back, is that clear?”

Dread filled you, burning the contents of your veins. “Crystal.”

———

The rest of the jet ride was short, thankfully, and entirely too silent until you returned to the compound.

As soon as you stepped off the landing platform Steve was on your tail. You were ahead of him by quite a few yards, wanting nothing more than to just get to your room so you could sleep this whole disastrous mission off. Luckily, Steve stopped behind you when Tony turned the corner, taking a quick breath before he started laying into him, reprimanding him for giving you orders. You passed Tony, handing him the flash drive with a quiet apology before heading to your room.

Steve’s words were drowned out as soon as you shut your door, immediately shedding your dirty tactile suit and boots in the dark. You tossed them in the corner, missing the hamper by a good foot, and turned on your lamp before moving to the bathroom.

His words crept their way back in your head as you turned the shower on, a thick cloud of steam quickly filling the room. You turned to face the mirror, grimacing at the state of your body.

You had dirt and blood splattered all around your skin, a few already scabbing cuts from the fight finding a home on your arms and stomach.

A sigh left you as you grabbed for your comb, doing your best to untangle the knots in your hair. You didn’t care about being gentle. Anger still boiled in you, making you even more sick at your reflection.

You took a deep breath as you entered the shower, trying to calm down before you had to face Steve again. The water was scalding, simultaneously rinsing away the filth that covered you and the words that taunted you. You crouched down, sitting on the shower floor and wrapping your arms over your legs. You were exhausted, that’s for sure.

With your head settled between your bent knees you didn’t hear the bathroom door open. Nor did you hear Steve undressing. You only noticed his presence when the sliding glass shower door opened, not bothering to look up and see him getting in behind you.

Taking a shower together was your post-mission ritual. Normally they were taken under better conditions, but they were never skipped.

Steve bent down behind you, draping his arms around your entire frame and planting kisses to the side of your head. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that, sweetheart. I was upset, but should have waited until I was calm before I talked to you. I know now that you were just trying to do a favor for Tony.” He moved the the back of your neck, trailing light pecks over it and across your shoulders.

“I was just scared. That flash drive nearly got my beautiful girl killed. The thought of losing you over something so little is not ideal, and I won’t let it happen under my watch. Regardless, I didn’t need to scream at you. I’m sorry, Y/n.” Steve finished, setting his head on top of yours, still holding onto you under the stream of water.

Despite the crap that sometimes comes out of his mouth, Steve is a good communicator. He’ll tell you when he’s upset, angry, nervous, jealous. And he’s willing to admit when he’s wrong.

“Can I stand you up, pretty girl?” He asked, the words getting mumbled in your wet hair.

You nodded and he moved his hands, wrapping them over your upper arms to help you up. Once you were on your feet he turned you to face him, his face much softer than before as he looked at you.

“You okay? If you’re upset with me I can give you some space.” His hand smoothed over your cheek, rubbing the soft skin with his thumb.

You shook your head, words still failing you, and moved into his chest. You were mad, yes. But you understood where he was coming from.

You would yell at him the same if he made your mistakes too.

He held you tight, running his hand along your spine as the other cradled your head, his lips leaving wet kisses along your hairline. “I would like to talk about what you said, though.”

There it is.

You internally groaned, not wanting to explain to your boyfriend that sometimes you didn’t like who you are or what you looked like.

So what?

“Do we have to?” You whined, snuggling further into his chest.

“I just want to know why you have a list of things you dislike about yourself. You’re the most perfect person I know, sweetheart.”

You shrugged. “Don’t we all? And I’m not perfect. I’ve got attitude problems and cellulite. My arms are jiggly and I have more stretch marks now because I’ve gained ten pounds in the last few months. Ten!” You answered dramatically, keeping your eyes closed as Steve started to wash your body, the lavender scented soap not doing much to help you relax.

His hand gripped your chin. “Open your eyes and look at me, sweetheart.” He waited to speak again until you were staring at him. “None of that makes you any less perfect. Do you have any idea how beautiful I think you are?”

He waited for an answer.

All you could do was shrug. You knew he loved you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to see you through his eyes just yet.

Your lack of answer made his jaw twitch.

He didn’t say another word as he finished cleaning your body and moved on to washing your hair. He was gentle, massaging your scalp with your coconut shampoo before rinsing it away, following up with its matching conditioner.

Once you were all clean he finally spoke, putting a firm hand against the side of your face. “I want you to get out and dry off. Don’t get dressed. I’ll be out in a few minutes and I expect you to be on the bed, waiting patiently like the good girl you are. Understood?”

You nodded and his hand gripped harder on your face.

“Words.” He commanded.

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

Jesus Christ.

A familiar throb started humming at your core. Steve hardly acted like this, but when he did... you knew you were in for a long night. “Yes, Sir.” You answered, more awake and less angry than before.

He smiled and sent a pat on your ass. “Go.”

You did as you were told, slipping out of the shower and drying off, doing your best to squeeze the extra water from your hair before sitting in the center of the bed with your knees tucked under you. Your breathing was hard to control and your heart was fluttering behind your ribs. The waiting games always got you nervous, but you just sat there as patiently as possible as Steve finished his own shower, probably taking the time to plan out exactly what he wanted to do with you.

The turn of the shower faucet caught your attention, your heart rate climbing as you heard Steve get out and towel himself down. He must’ve wanted to torture you because he was taking his sweet time.

It was only a minute later when the bathroom door finally opened, a naked Steve walking out and walking to you incredibly slow. It didn’t help your cause that he already had an erection and it looked borderline painful as it hit against his abs with each step he took.

“See, my pretty girl knows exactly how to follow directions.” He leaned across the bed and kissed at your awaiting lips a few times before standing straight again. He held his hand out below your face.

“Spit.”

Your eyes widened at his demand, but you did it anyway, forming a pool of saliva in his outstretched palm.

You didn’t take your sight off of him as he circled around the bed, his gaze reminding you of how a predator looks just before they capture and devour their prey. When he turned and sat himself down on the chair in the corner, you got confused.

“What are you doing?” You asked, your voice quiet and sweet as you watched him, his legs spreading and his back settling down into the cushion.

His eyes never left yours once, talking again but ignoring your question. “Open your legs, pretty girl, I wanna see you touch yourself.”

You stopped breathing for a second. He noticed, a twitch of his smirk pulling at his lips. “Go on. Be a good girl and do as your told. Touch yourself.”

Unsure, you shifted toward the headboard, letting your back hit the pillows before your legs parted, exposing your wet cunt to Steve. He stared at you while he waited, his smirk growing as your fingers finally circled around your clit, a soft gasp pulling from your lips.

“Do you wanna know what I think about when I get myself off?” He started, his voice low and dark. 

Good God.

“Now- I don’t do it often, because nothing gets me off better than the hands and lips of my pretty girl- but on the off chance I’m on a mission that’s taking me away from you for more than a week… I can’t seem to help myself.” His left hand went behind his head, his right going around his other head, gripping it slowly before he started to pump. Your spit slicked him up, mixing with the beads of his precum to make the job easier.

“You’ll send me a picture of your gorgeous face, or-”, Steve stuttered, his hips bucking off the chair as he quickened his pace, “hell, if we can’t have contact I’ll bring one with me. Just one look at that face and body of yours gets me going, it gets me riled up to the point that I need to touch myself or it’ll hurt for the rest of the day.” He moaned, his head tilting back before slowing down. “Everything about you turns me on- gets me so hard. Your voice, your face, your body, your scent, your taste-” He panted, his chest rising and falling heavily as he went on. “I have no willpower when it comes to you, pretty baby. None at all.”

“Stevie, can I-” You started to ask, the coil deep in your stomach nearly about to snap. You were soaking wet, the lewd sounds of your fingers rolling over your clit filling the room.

“Don’t even think about it, sweetheart.” Steve knew exactly what you wanted, but he wasn’t ready to let you have it just yet.

You tried to listen to him- you really did, but his voice was so gravelly and you could smell his shampoo from your spot on the bed and it was driving you insane. Your fingers kept their pace, your head pushing into the pillows and your back arching ever so slightly off the bed. You were so close. You nearly had it before a large hand snapped around your wrist, pulling it away from your core and stopping your impending orgasm.

Your eyes fluttered open, a whine falling from you from the loss of contact. Steve hovered above you, his free arm digging into the mattress to keep his weight off of your body. He didn’t say anything as he looked into your eyes, his breath trailing over your collarbones and chin.

Steve slowly brought your glistening fingers to his mouth, sucking off your arousal until they were clean. His pupils were huge, only a sliver of his pretty blues showing underneath the darkness that overtook them. You felt his cock twitch against your stomach, a drop of precum landing on your skin.

His free arm tucked under your back, hoisting you up as he sat on the bed. He guided you to his lap, your core landing on his bare skin and your breasts bouncing from the movement. His eyes lingered on them for far too long, silence settling between you.

Most people would assume Steve Rogers is an ass man, and he would agree for the most part. But there was something so tantalizing and mouthwatering about your breasts that he just couldn’t fucking help himself. They were so full and tender and responsive and it drove him crazy. He would give up every material possession of his just to fuck them once, but that could wait for another day.

Just not a day too far in the future.

His eyes trailed up and locked on yours as he dove down, his lips capturing one of your nipples as he sucked hard.

“Fuck… Steve…” You mewled, your fingers wrapping in the strands of gold atop his head.

He didn’t say anything, instead he let your hardened nipple go with a soft pop and sat back with a purse on his lips, signaling he wanted a kiss. You leaned in, falling right in his trap. As soon as you connected your lips a sharp slap landed on your ass, a yelp falling in Steve’s open mouth. One of his arms was hooked under your thigh to keep you against him, not letting you go as he landed two more open-handed smacks to the flesh.

“That’s for disobeying my orders.” A final hit came down, this one twice as painful as the first few. It was easy to tell that he still had pent up anger left simmering in him from earlier. Your skin was burning, your eyes watering from the sting. “And thats for questioning my judgement. You’re my girl, and when I say you’re fuckin’ perfect, you better believe it as fact, got it?” His fingers were kneading into the tingling flesh, massaging the burn away.

“Yes, Sir.” You huffed, your eyes glossy and your face nearly sweating under his gaze.

“I want you to ride my thigh, sweetheart. Can you do that for me?” Steve asked, his face close to yours, noses brushing softly together.

This man was going to be the death of you.

You nodded. “Yes, Sir.”

“I want you to cum this time. You don’t have to ask.” He said before pressing his lips to yours, his hands crawling up to find purchase on your waist. He helped guide you along his strong thigh while you rocked your hips back and fourth. The friction was heavenly, and you were a moaning mess on top of him. Your mouth was open against his, your breaths mingling together as you rode him, the coil in your stomach ready to snap.

It was so much all at once. You felt everything and it was sending you into overdrive. His hands on your waist, his nails digging crescent shaped marks into your skin. His breath along your collarbones and throat, goosebumps raising from the heat it left behind. The flex of his thigh and how he was barely bouncing it, but that added movement made all the difference. The flutter in your walls begging for a release only Steve could give you. It was entirely too much for you to handle.

“Steve…”

And boy did it snap.

Your orgasm hit you like an eighteen wheeler, your head falling to his shoulder as you released on his thigh, his skin slick with your arousal. He was panting too, his hands gripping so harshly into your sides you were worried he might be drawing blood.

He pressed gentle kisses to your neck, praises falling out in between. “Good girl. Such a fuckin’ good girl for me, aren’t you?” Steve asked, his voice rumbling in your ears.

“Jus’ for you, Stevie.” You nodded heavily, blissed out after your first release.

After a few more sloppy kisses were placed over your face, he pulled away, his hands cupping both cheeks as he forced you to look at him.

You blurted the words out before he could speak.

“I love you.”

The three words that always came so easily to you when you looked at Steve. It was true. You loved him. Not a single day would pass where you wouldn’t love him.

And he knew this all too well.

Steve’s face softened, his small grin growing wider. “And I love you. So much.” He proclaimed, pressing the lightest of kisses to the tip of your nose. “I’m so sorry for yelling at you earlier. You didn’t deserve it.”

You were quick to shake your head, a rogue tear falling down your face and onto Steve’s hand. “It’s alright, honey. Thank you for apologizing, but I was being reckless. You were just trying to keep me safe. I’m sorry too.” His thumb swiped at the wet trail the tear left behind.

“It’s okay. I love you so fucking much-” He said, his voice breaking as his eyes glossed over. Quickly your lips were back on his and he seemed eager to drink you down. Before he could get too ahead of himself, he pulled back, his eyes lidded and dark.

“Hands and knees on the bed, baby. I’m gonna show you how much I fuckin’ love you, and you’re gonna watch.”

Your entire body shuddered as you nodded, peeling yourself away from him and crawling down so your knees and forearms were pressed to the blanketed mattress, your ass in the air and waiting. You focused on his movements behind you, easy to see now that you faced the large mirror that stood in the corner and was pointed directly at the bed.

Steve must’ve done that before he met you in the shower.

A quiet whine left you when his hands landed on your hips, jostling your body forward an inch, your breasts grazing the duvet. His eyes locked on yours in the mirror, the smirk he wore enchanting and devilish at the same time.

Steve was a sneaky man. Sometimes a little too sneaky. It’s why you were so caught off guard when you felt two of his long, thick fingers enter your pussy, your mouth falling open at the sensation.

“Fuck- fucking hell, Stevie.” You moaned into the bed, your nails digging into the blanket for support.

“My beautiful girl…” Steve cooed, his fingers pumping in and out of you like it was his job. “Taking me so well while I’m stretching you out, huh?” His free hand was caressing your side, the pads of his fingers tracing over every iridescent stretch mark that found a home there. His eyes never left yours for even a second, worried he’d miss the way your face contorted from how he played you so expertly. He curled his fingers up, grazing your g-spot with each push and pull.

“Stevie… I’m gonna cum again…” You whined into your hand, drool falling past your lips and onto your skin.

Steve chuckled softly, a shake of his head following as if he was lost in thought. “Go ahead, sweetheart.” His own mouth fell open to mirror yours as he felt you clench around his slick fingers, the pulse of your walls sending a heat to his growing erection.

Slurred words that resembled his name dropped from your mouth, and the coil in your stomach was fading. But Steve’s fingers weren’t slowing down… if anything- they were gaining speed as you rode out your orgasm.

“Honey, w…what are you doing?” You mumbled, beads of sweat forming on your face. “Ahh-” You whimpered, brows knitting together as a third finger entered your aching cunt.

Steve’s eyes weren’t on yours anymore, but instead were focused on how your pussy accepted his fingers so well. “You’re still so tight pretty baby… how are you gonna take all of me, huh?”

You felt thankful for the soundproof walls that surrounded you because you were not being quiet.

“Please, Stevie. I- I can take you… I promise. Please… please…” Your chest was heaving and another orgasm was quickly approaching.

You fell over the edge easily once Steve’s large thumb circled your clit. He rubbed it once, twice, and a third time before you were spasming around him yet again, your moans turning into loud yells against the comforter.

“I know you can baby, just don’t wanna hurt you- that’s all.” He answered before pulling his dripping wet fingers from you, gracefully sweeping them into his mouth yet again before he sucked your arousal right off of them. He hummed around his fingers and closed his eyes, lost in the taste of you.

When his eyes opened again, he looked nothing short of feral. Like something had overcome him and he felt like he had to be in you right now or he’d lose his god damn mind.

So he gave in, dragging his swollen tip across your folds before pushing into your pussy in a single rut of his hips.

“Oh f-fuck-” You stuttered, a heavy shiver running down your spine as he bottomed out inside of you. He felt like heaven and you were a goner when he finally started moving, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix every time he pushed back in. “Feels so good, Stevie. You feel s…so big.”

Steve’s hands were trembling from the adrenaline rush of being inside of you, his fingers kneading into the swollen prints on your ass from earlier. “You feel full, pretty baby? Feelin’ me in your belly?” He asked with lidded eyes, his left hand snaking down to push on the bulge he made in your lower stomach each time his hips snapped back into your ass.

You nodded, pants tumbling out of your mouth as your eyes fluttered closed, savoring the feeling of being filled by your love. “Mhmm, so full Stevie.”

You gasped when you felt his fingers wrap around the base of your throat, tightening and keeping you in his grip. “Eyes up, sweetheart. I need you to see what you do to me.”

The veins in his arms were protruding out and he was dripping in sweat, his face flushed and overtaken with bliss as he kept his pace, his mouth ajar and his eyes dark and filled with lust.

He was close to crying from how much he fuckin’ loved you, needing you to really see what you did to him.

How you completely wreck him and he just lets you and will continue to let you because you’re his best girl and his best girl can wreck him any day of the week.

“Look at how beautiful you are baby, huh? So fuckin’ beautiful. Always so pretty just for me, ain’t that right?” His grip grew impossibly tight against your throat, stars beginning to twinkle in your sight. “Say it, pretty baby. Tell me how beautiful you are.”

From the way Steve was sinfully filling you up to the way his words made your heart flutter with love to the white heat that was building in your stomach, you couldn’t think straight. “I’m b...beautiful, Stevie. I’m your p-pretty girl- ah!”

Hearing you finally say the words he begged to come from you sent him into overdrive, his deep strokes in your pussy growing tenfold, sending your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you tried to hang on to any breath your lungs held. It was impossible though, especially with his hand around your throat so possessively, his other now ghosting over your abused clit.

Your hearing was going out as your climax finally burst, but you could make out the loud, “Yes baby, come on baby, cum on my cock like a good girl. Oh fuck…s-shit sweetheart, you’re so fuckin’ good baby. Just like that.” of Steve’s words. Your walls were clenching around him, his orgasm coming right after yours. He kept rutting into you as he came, his warm, thick seed filling you up entirely until it started dripping out and around his cock, sliding quietly down your shaking thighs.

Steve’s grip around your throat loosened as he pulled out, your body fully plopping down onto the mattress as exhaustion washed over you. You felt him place a few feather light kisses on your back before he got off the bed, the faucet in the bathroom turning on. He returned a moment later, turning you over so you were facing the ceiling, a lukewarm wash rag being dragged across your center as Steve cleaned you up.

He cracked a smile as soon as he saw yours.

“That was… wow, Steve.”

It was an accurate statement. Steve was usually never that rough and commanding with you- but you couldn’t deny how good it made you feel.

“Was it too much?” He asked, a slight cringe pulling at his features.

You shook your head quickly, a small laugh coming from your mouth. “Not at all, Sir. I’m gonna have to piss you off like that more often.” You chuckled as he finished wiping your thighs.

His eyes narrowed at you as he threw the rag in the hamper, making it in despite the fact that he wasn’t even looking. In an instant he was loomed over you, the blues of his eyes disappearing once again.

“Don’t you fuckin’ dare, you brat.”

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Whenever she couldn’t sleep, she cleaned or she baked or she did all of the laundry. She just did something that would keep her mind distracted until she wore herself out. Steve had yet to learn about her late night habits. He always slept like a rock, never once waking or stirring, just snoring the night away. 

One night, he had woken up because he was incredibly cold. When he reached over to her side of the bed, he was met with nothing but the cold sheets. He sat up in the bed, rubbing at his tired eyes and looked around the room. The bathroom light was off so she wasn’t in the bathroom, but then he heard something coming from the kitchen. The smell finally reached his nose, she was baking cookies.

He got out of the bed and made his way towards the kitchen, the aroma was almost overwhelming at this point. As he made his way to the kitchen, he noticed that she had decorated for the holidays. He started to wonder how long she had been awake. Once getting to the kitchen, he came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his cheek on her shoulder. She was startled for a moment, not expecting him to be awake at 2 in the morning. “What are you doing, sweetheart? You should be in bed,” He asked her quietly, planting a gentle kiss on the side of her neck.

“Couldn’t sleep so I thought I’d be productive. I decorated a little bit, then I cleaned most of the house, then I did all of the laundry and then I realized that I hadn’t done any of my baking so I started that and now here we are,” She rambled on, turning in his arms so they were face-to-face, “What are you doing up, baby? You usually sleep through the night.”

“Was too cold without you in bed,” He simply stated.

“I’m sorry handsome, I just need to take this batch out of the oven then we can go back to bed.” The couple hung out in the dimly lit kitchen for another 5 minutes, she had pulled the last batch of cookies out of the oven, turned it off and grabbed Steve’s hand. “Let’s get you back to bed. You get grumpy if you don't get enough sleep,” She teased.

“I do not get grumpy!”

“Then what was with that attitude right there, Steve?”

“Oh you are gonna get it, honey.” He scooped her up and carried her to their bedroom, throwing her down on the bed and started tickling her. She was laughing hysterically, limbs flailing about trying to get him off or at least slow down his attack.

“Stevie! I’m gonna pee my pants!” She managed to plead between her laughs.

“Apologize and then I will consider,” He chuckled, his hands easing up on their attack, giving her a little reprieve.

“I’m sorry, you don’t get grumpy!” His hands eased up even more, but not exactly stopping just yet.

“Say you love me then I’ll stop.”

“I love you!” His hands stopped, now resting on her waist.

“I love you,” He smiled at her, nothing but love in his sleepy eyes. Her hands reached up, tangling themselves in his messy hair, pulling his face down to hers, pressing their lips together.

When they pulled away, she could resist teasing him once more, “You do get grumpy though.”

“Hopefully it’s enough for Tony’s fancy friends - what is this party for again?” He drew closer to you and you tried to convince your brain to continue to function normally. 

It’s just Steve. 

That was the problem, though. It was Steve. Steve - the beautiful boy who made you pancakes after nights when you couldn’t sleep, who gave you combat lessons in private because he knew that you were self-conscious about your lack of fighting skills, who always gave you his yellow candies because he remembered it was your favorite color. Steve - who stole your heart without even knowing it.

Steve - gorgeous, kind, oblivious, Steve. 

You closed the rest of the distance separating the two of you, drinking in the way that he stood with his hands casually stuffed in his pockets. A habit that remained from pre-serum Steve, you guessed - not the only one, but definitely the most endearing one. Sighing, you swatted gently at his wrists, coaxing his hands away from the home they had found tucked closely to his body. You reached up to smooth out the wrinkles that his gesture had made around his shoulders. 

“Uh, some new charity foundation that Tony is working on - something about education, I think?” you offered, trying to steer your eyes away from Steve’s. 

You knew that he couldn’t help the way his eyes twinkled brightly, like the sun glinting off the rolling waves of the bluest sea. You also knew that you couldn’t hate him for it, no matter how much you tried to convince yourself to. You had lost way too much time getting caught in the cresting peaks the tide his eyes offered.  

“He’s really playing up the ‘philanthropist’ angle of the whole ‘genius, billionaire, playboy’ thing, huh?” 

That pulled a smile out of you - a real one that split your face wide. That was probably the only real smile that you would be able to muster that night, and you were happy that Steve was the one who had coaxed it from you. Steve didn’t have to try hard to do that though. He was so bright and shiny - his smile alone put all the stars in the galaxy to shame. Simply his presence was enough to crack through the walls you had built so high. 

“Unfortunately for us,” you grinned. You finally allowed your eyes to drift up to his. You weren’t sure if you had imagined it, but you could’ve sworn that his smile grew brighter when his eyes caught yours. Regardless, it felt like your stomach was competing for a gold medal in gymnastics. 

Your hands still rested gently on his shoulders. The feeling of his warmth under your palms only added to the cloudy feeling in your brain. Absentmindedly, you took a half step forward; now your chests were almost touching and you had to crane your neck back to maintain eye contact with the super-soldier. Even in heels, he towered over you. You slid your hands to his collar, ensuring that the back was tucked and smoothing out the front of it. You hoped against all hope that Steve couldn’t hear the way that your heart was hammering frantically against your rib cage.

If life was kind, then everything in the universe would pause right here, letting you spend as much time as you pleased standing in the intoxicating bubble of Steven Rogers; staring into his eyes and memorizing how each fleck of green danced against its icy backdrop, soaking up the way that his breath fanned over your face, tickling your cheeks and nose. You could’ve spent an eternity in that single moment. 

If only, your heart sang. But if there was one thing that being a part of ‘Earth’s mightiest heroes’ had taught you, it was that life was everything but kind. The man standing in front of you was proof of that. Life was so unkind that it tore him from his time - his life - and forced him into a new arena. 

Selfishly, you couldn’t help but feel a little grateful at that thought. Ironically, all of life’s unkindness towards Steve had granted you this magical moment; the two of you standing so close that you could feel the way his chest rumbled as he cleared his throat. 

You peeled yourself away from him, chiding yourself for missing the way his body warmed yours through the thin fabric of your dress. 

“I feel like I’m marching into battle right now,” you jested half-heartedly, trying anything to disperse the tension that had arisen from your actions. 

This was definitely going to be added to the slide show of awkward moments that played in your head each night as you lay down to sleep. 

Much to your relief, Steve laughed underneath his breath. 

“I almost wish I was.” You giggled at his tone as you made your way toward the elevator, pressing the call button as Steve appeared at your side.

“(Y/n)?” His fingers brushed over the back of your hand, and you looked up at him questioningly.

“You look beautiful tonight.” 

You hoped the chime of the elevator doors opening disguised the way that his comment sent your heart soaring. 

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