Confident yet Awkward

Hey guys here is a summary of my work so far

Chris Evans 

Chris finding you in the hospital 

You’re drunk 

Pregnancy Talk 

You’re Both Mobbed 

Possessive

Morning sickness

Going into labour

Chris x young reader

Chris taking care of you and his new born

Sebastian Stan

Missing Seb

Going into Labour Part One

Going into Labour Part Two 

Scared of Flying

Paparazzi 

Comfort 

Asthma Attack 

Bucky Barnes

Cooking together 

Bucky in the 1940s 

Steve Rodgers 

Hey guys, I know it’s been a while. Thank you for the ongoing support for my writing. Some days I just feel like my content is trash – but the lovely comments keep me going. Xxx Enjoy your March.

Warning – not edited & I don’t own the gif. 

NOT SEXUAL - THIS IS JUST FLUFF about him taking care of you and his son. Sorry for the confusion. 

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Soft coos gently illuminate the living room with a peaceful bliss. Your three-day old son lays babbling away in his bassinet as the afternoon sunshine tenderly dances through the window. An unwavering force of contentment swirls through your body as you admire your baby.

His cute babbling noises ignites your instinctual need to hold him. You go to pick him up but an unforgiving pain screams through your abdomen causing you to double over and wince.

“Hey sweet-heart take it easy.” Chris gently warns, seemingly appearing from nowhere. Turning to him you scowl causing a soft laugh to escape his lips. “You’re still recovering from a brutal emergency caesarean; you have to rest.” He smirks, making sure to emphasis the word ‘rest’.

Rolling your eyes, you go to sit back down in your comfy haven that your husband has set up for you – equipped with blankets and all the pillows you could possibly need. Chris swiftly makes his way over to you. He gently guides you back down to the couch careful not to rush you knowing your body is still recovering from surgery.

Despite becoming new parents – Chris still looks devastatingly handsome. His blue sweater clings to him, outlining every muscle while his hair is still neatly placed. A spark of excitement and adoration permanently dances in his gorgeous eyes. If anything, he’s glowing. Fatherhood has somehow bewitched your husband and made him one-hundred time sexier. You on the other hand resemble a disgusting mess. The bags under your eyes have tripled in size, and the mere thought of having a shower sends relentless waves of exhaustion over your entire body. You’d been in the same sweats since you got home from the hospital. You didn’t even have the strength to run a brush through your hair.

“Thank you.” You tiredly smile at your husband. Empathy flashes through his eyes as he takes in your exhausted state. Chris walks over to your son and gently picks him up.

Your heart explodes as Chris tenderly sways him back and forth as they edge closer to you.

“I think mummy wants a cuddle from her second favourite person in the world.” He jokes while placing the baby in your arms.

“Excuse me, our son is my favourite person in the world now, you may have to take a back seat on this one.” You giggle while tucking him closer to your chest.

Chris fakes being hurt, “Oh that’s cold.” He smirks while placing a soft kiss on your son’s head then swiftly places a tendour kiss to your cheek. “I’ve officially been replaced.”

Chris snuggles up next to you as you revel in contentment. Chris’s freshly washed scent floods your nose as you lean further into his warmth.

“How is it that you look like a brand-new squeaky toy, and I look like I’ve been fished out of the trash?” You joke as you struggle to run your fingers through your hair to demonstrate your point.

“You still look beautiful to me.” Chris hums in your ear as he lightly peppers your cheek with soft kisses.

“How about you feed this little one, and I’ll brush your hair, so you don’t feel as gross anymore.” He suggests, “Then later when we put him down, I can help you shower if you’re feeling up to it.” Chris gently pushes you forward to gain easier access to your shoulders. His broad hands begin to work their magic as he massages out all of your stress.

“That would be amazing.” You hum as you rest your head onto Chris’s chest.

Authors note: Hey guys! Sorry it’s been so long since I’ve written anything. I’m an essential worker so the pandemic is really hitting me hard. I hope you like it, I’m not sure if this was entirely what you wanted but I tried. Thank you!

Warning: Light smut, fluff, maybe swearing – not edited.

Stay safe and enjoy.

Word Count: 4k

*I don't own any gifs*

Part One:

Letting out an exhausted sigh you pick up another heavy box and begrudgingly make the long trip back up to the lobby. Your arms are practically begging and screaming at you to take a break, but you know there’s too much that needs to be done before the end of the day. The cool winter breeze wraps around you causing you to shiver but you continue to persevere through the light snowfall.

You’re helping bring in the new supplies for a charity organisation, Christopher's Haven, a home for kids and their families while they battle cancer. You volunteer every other weekend when you aren’t busy with work or university. It truly breaks your heart watching families accustom their normality to one of pain and suffering. After volunteering for a couple of months you’d come to the sobering realisation that for you time was a luxury; the least you could do was give up your time to families who desperately needed it.

You gently kick the door open with your foot and quickly make your way into the building careful not to let the crisp winter air inside. You’re immediately engulfed with anticipation. Excitement buzzes through the air as hushed whispers and chatter of Chris Evans coming into the organisation to make a generous donation echoes throughout the hallways. While you’re curious to get a glimpse you remind yourself that he’s here for the children and families – besides you took more of a liking to Bucky than Captain America.

You continue to haul the box over to the sorting station when a sudden change in the atmosphere drops. The chatter morphs into low whispers as a vast majority of people’s eyes widen with elation and intrigue. Directing your attention to the source of this distraction you lay your eyes on the man everyone’s so eager to meet.

Chris seemingly glides through the lobby with ease. His blue sweater is tightly fitted causing the fabric to cling to his toned and muscular body. His beard is neatly trimmed, and a playful glimmer swirls in his eyes. Chris’s smile seemingly lights up the whole building and for a moment you’re completely mesmerised by this man. You accidentally make eye contact with Chris from across the lobby; your heart rapidly increases - for a mere second the earth feels like it’s stopped spinning.

Before you can muster up any plans to slyly introduce yourself you trip over a box causing you to face plant into the unforgiving concrete. The contents of the box you’re holding spills out onto the floor emitting a loud banging sound for everyone in the lobby to hear. Your knee screams out as you awkwardly land on it. Ignoring the pain shooting up your knee you scurry to retrieve all the items that are now scattered everywhere. A burning redness rushes to your cheeks as you feel everyone’s eyes on you.

“Are you okay?” A male voice asks. Glancing up at the voice you see Chris Evans crouching down next to you, concern etched into his face as he assesses the situation.

Horror overwhelms your entire body as you struggle to maintain eye contact with him. Chris just saw you face plant into the ground; you really wouldn’t mind if an asteroid took you out right about now.

“Yeah, I’m fine thank you.” You politely mutter chewing the inside of your cheek in a futile attempt to keep the tears of shame at bay.

“Here let me help.” He ignores your protests and continues to collect all the items that spilt onto the floor. “Kind of feel like I distracted you.” He lightly jokes. You recognise that Chris is trying to make you laugh to alleviate the embarrassment that is clearly written all over you.

“You’re good but you’re not that good.” You joke back causing him to chuckle.

“Y/N has two left feet; this is a common occurrence.” One of the senior volunteer's pipes in sending you a cheeky wink before scurrying off.

“You volunteer here often?” Chris asks as curiosity clouds his eyes.

“Whenever I can.” You smile trying to ignore the butterflies exploding in your stomach. You try to stand but pain shoots up your knee causing you to visibly wince.

“Here let me help you up.” He smiles, as he gently tugs you from the ground. Chris supports your weight as he manoeuvres you to a nearby seat.

“I’m sure I’m fine, thank you.” You smile but he seems unconvinced.

“You took a nasty fall Y/N, let me have a look. I’ve had a few busted knees in my past.” Your heart nearly stopped beating at the sound of your name on his lips. Chris gently inspects your knee, but all you can focus on are the small sparks that ignite your body every time he touches you. Part of you hopes he feels them too.

“You should be okay.” He smiles, “but definitely no more work for the rest of the day.” His eyes meet yours once again and you find yourself having to fight the urge to reach out and kiss him.

You groan in frustration. “There’s still so much I need to do.” You huff causing Chris to lightly chuckle.

“Well, there’s always tomorrow. I’ll come back and help you with these heavy boxes.” He suggests, “But for now, how about I take you out for coffee, rest that knee a little bit?” Chris asks. Little specks of hope dance in his eyes as he waits for your answer.

“I would love to.” You say a little bit too quickly. Chris’s eyes light up as you accept his invitation.

“I’m Chris.” He smiles as he holds out his hand.

“Y/N.” You laugh, “But you already knew that.” You take his hand and gently shake it. Sparks once again ignite at your touch – you suspect Chris feels them too because he’s suddenly taken aback. He quickly recovers and leads you through towards the door.

“After you.” He smiles opening the door for you.

You would be lying to yourself if you didn’t admit that you were already hopelessly head over heels for Chris.

Part Two:

You and Chris had been close friends since the day you met at Christopher's Haven. It’s like you two were magnets, wherever you moved he followed. You spent every waking hour enjoying each other’s company. You’d frequently stay up and laugh the night away. You had this unbreakable bond, despite the age gap, you both connected on a deeper level. If you were being honest with yourself, Chris made you feel seen for the first time in your life. You’d even managed to gain the affections of Dodger.

Despite the mutual connection, Chris made sure he never crossed the line with you. He ensured the two of you remained strictly friends. Every time you attempted to initiate some type of romantic growth in your relationship, he would gently turn you down.

One time, on a whim, you intertwined your fingers with his. The sparks that washed over both of you were undeniable. You could see Chris having an intense internal battle with himself, and for just a moment he let himself enjoy the loving gesture before gently pulling away. You could tell with every touch, flirty joke or compliment Chris struggled to resist you, but he begrudgingly abstained.

It broke your heart every time he pushed your hand away.

Chris always went another painful step further making sure everyone in the world also understood that you were just friends. If you were ever brought up in interviews, he would clarify that you were his best friend – it stung, but you couldn’t bring yourself to part from him.

Chris had invited you as his platonic date to a dinner party, you reluctantly agreed. Well-known actors and directors were going to be at this dinner party, so you decided to put your best foot forward, and dress to impress. Getting ready took longer than expected so you told Chris you’d meet him there. You went full glam with your hair and makeup. You found the fanciest, and tightest dress you could and hunted down your sparkly high heels before dashing into an Uber.

The drive seemingly takes forever. With every second that ticks by, you feel more like a fraud. You really didn’t feel like yourself. You’re a college student seemingly lost in a world of the rich and famous, but you’d already committed. The uber pulls up to the most luxurious mansion you have ever seen. The house looks like something out of The Great Gatsby. The house was at least three stories high with an enormous water fountain in the middle of the driveway. Gulping you slowly make your way out of the uber and to the massive front door.

Nervously pulling at your dress you ring the doorbell. Music echoes from the house as you can hear chatter spilling out from every corner of the house. This definitely wasn’t the average dinner party you were accustomed to.

The door suddenly opens and a man in an expensive tux drunkenly stumbles out. He doesn’t seem to notice you, so you push past him and into the lobby. You’ve never felt so small in your life. As you walk up the stairs you consider turning back. Everyone here is in their 30s onwards and filthy rich – everything you weren’t.

Chris catches your eye from the corner of the room. He looks absolutely divine in his suit. His eyes brighten at the sight of you. You begin to make your way over to him but are cut off by a gorgeous woman in a flowy gown.

“Ah, you must be baby Y/N.” The woman smirks as she looks you up and down. All the insecurities you managed to stuff into the back of your brain on the ride here immediately rush to the forefront causing you to shift uncomfortably.

“Sorry?” You reply confusion wraps around you. Your immediately greeted with a flute of champagne by this woman.

“Oh, how rude of me! I’m Crystal, one of Chris’s long-time friends.” She slyly smiles, “We all call you baby Y/N.”

“Y/N you made it, and you look absolutely stunning,” Chris says cutting Crystal off as he pulls you in for a tight hug. Chris’s eyes darken as he drinks in your appearance. Desire clouds his eyes as he pulls you into his side. His hand lingers on the small of your back trapping you in his grip – not that you minded.

Crystals eyes turn into daggers when she sees how affectionate Chris is being.

“I was just telling Y/N here about the nickname we all have for her – baby Y/N.” Crystal jokes. You can tell she feels threatened by you, so you try your best to put on a confident front.

Clearly, your young age is a problem for this woman. You want to roll your eyes but fight against that and instead make light of the situation.

“Well, babies are cute I guess.” You joke tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. You only did that when you were nervous – something Chris picks up on because he gently squeezes your side as a sign of encouragement.

Crystal’s smile turns into a scowl as the air swirls with hostility.

“You know baby Y/N, Chris is interested in women, not snotty little college students trying to claw their way up in the world.” Her words drip with venom as you try to conceal your heartbreak.

“Crystal!” Chris hisses. Out of the corner of your eye, you see anger flash through Chris’s eyes – you rarely see him angry.

“It’s what everyone thinks about her, might as well cut her off before she gets too attached – get this little project over and done with.” Crystal defends. Your heart sinks into the pit of your stomach. You can’t recall a time you’ve ever felt so embarrassed. You feel the heat rush to your cheeks as your ears fiercely burn.

You fight your way out of Chris’s grip refusing to cry. Crystals words resonate with you, she’d only said what you and everyone else were thinking. Looking around you feel utterly stupid. Everyone in this room wore clothes that cost more than your apartment, even their fake smiles were worth more than you. You didn’t belong in Chris’s world – coming here tonight only confirmed it. You were living in a pipe dream; not only did you not belong in his world, but Chris doesn’t have it in him to commit to you.

“I think it’s time I left. I hope both of you enjoy the night.” You grimace as you nod to Crystal and then Chris. Before Chris can interject you gently place your champagne on a nearby table and make a dash down the stairs.

You can hear Chris calling after you, but it only fuels your need to escape him. Without your permission hot sticky tears pool in your eyes.

“Y/N wait!” Chris yells but you ignore him nearly tripping over your own feet. You curse yourself for not having a backup plan to escape. Your uber had left and it’s not like you could stop to order one without Chris catching up to you.

“Leave me alone Chris.” You yell. You were devastatingly unfit, and no match for Chris. You can feel him just inches away from you. He tugs at your arm - his grip is firm as you try to fight your way out of it.

“Y/N stop fighting me,” Chris mutters. “Don’t listen to Crystal, she’s just a very bitter person.”

You stop fighting Chris long enough to look at him. He genuinely thinks this is about Crystal. You couldn’t care less about Crystal and her words. Sure, they hurt, but there’s an element of undeniable truth behind them. You were in love with Chris, but he didn’t feel the same. Better to rip off the Band-Aid now and stop this silly schoolgirl crush you’d been nursing for Chris after all these months.

“This isn’t about Crystal.” You cry out genuinely baffled that he didn’t understand. Confusion engulfs Chris as he tries to decipher your words.

“I’m in love with you Chris, and I think you’ve known for quite some time.” You mumble refusing to look at him.

“Y/N…” Chris sighs as he scratches the back of his neck. He’s completely lost for words.

“Don’t. Please don’t.” You feel a single tear slide down your cheek, “You’ve been stringing me along, feeding me hope like we actually had a chance.” Your voice cracks as you finally affirm your worst fears out loud. “What am I to you?” You ask angrily wiping at your tears.

“I haven’t come to any solid conclusions yet.” He admits in defeat. You can see regret and sorrow swirling in his eyes but his response angers you.

“Oh, I see” You spit with sarcasm, “You expect me to sit here and twiddle my thumbs while you decide whether or not you want me.”

“Y/N, it’s not a question of wanting you, I do.” Chris defends.

“You want me but that’s not enough, right?” You ask trying to maintain a strong front, but you know Chris can see through your façade – you’re falling apart right in front of him.

“It’s complicated.” Chris lets out a sigh as he anxiously tugs at his hair.

“Let me uncomplicate it for you. Whatever the hell this is, it’s over. We’re done.” You turn away. You furiously tug off your heels and continue to walk down the footpath. You try to ignore your heartache, but it only gets louder with every step.

“You can’t run home, especially dressed like that, it’s nearly midnight.” Chris tries to rationalise, but you’re too lost in sorrow and anger to think rationally. “Let’s go back to mine, and we can talk about this.” He offers but you scoff.

“If you keep following me Chris, I’ll make sure you never hear from me again.” Venom seethes out of every word. You can tell Chris is having an internal battle with himself, but you continue to ignore him. “I was never meant for your world anyways.” You sniffle.

“Y/N c’mon.” He pleads one last time, but all you can do is shake your head and continue walking alone. The only thing keeping you company is heartbreak.

Part Three:

You finally turn into your street after what feels like forever. Your phone had died two minutes into your heart-breaking trek away from Chris and that god-awful party. Carrying your heels in your hand you ignore your aching feet and defeatedly make your way up the stairs.

Sludging your way up to your door you catch a glimpse of a large silhouette figure leaning up against the door – the only source of light illuminating the shadowy figure is the soft glow from the phone they are frantically typing at.

Your heart drops.

It’s Chris. Squinting your eyes, you assess his appearance. From what you can see his tie is loosely hanging around his neck, tux evidently creased. His eyes are bloodshot indicating that he may have been crying. His hair is a mess – he’d clearly been pulling at it.

“Oh, thank god.” Chris sighs in relief as you hesitantly shuffle towards him. “I’ve been searching the streets for you.”

Dread floods your stomach. You’d never seen Chris so devastated before. Part of you is utterly annoyed that he’s shown up on your doorstep after you demanded to be left alone while the other part of you wants to hear him out.

“What are you doing here Chris?” Your voice was monotoned, laced in exhaustion. You didn’t have the energy to fight with him right now, all you wanted was your bed.

“I had to make sure you were okay.” Desperation is written all over his face, “I thought something might have happened to you, you weren’t answering my calls.”

“My phone died.” You mumble while opening your bag and fishing for your keys. You gently push him aside to open the door.

You walk in and carelessly flick the light on. You toss your heels and bag to the side not caring where they fell.

“Did you walk the whole way? It’s nearly 2:00 am Y/N, that’s so dangerous.” Chris walks in behind you. You roll your eyes at his forcefulness.

“Like I said my phone died; I don’t remember inviting you in.” You murmur, refusing to turn around and face the man who’d broken your heart only mere hours ago.

“I needed to make sure you’re okay.” He replies justifying his presence in your apartment.

“I’m not your problem anymore Chris, why are you here?” You ask out of pure defeat. This man is the most confusing male you’d ever met. You had a plan; you were going to hate him forever – but that’s an extraordinarily difficult goal to achieve when he shows up on your doorstep late in the night with his intoxicating puppy eyes checking that you’re okay.

“You can’t even look at me, that’s how much I’ve screwed this up.” He sniffles. You can tell he’s holding back tears. You’re torn. You don’t know if you should give in and hug him or stay tuned in to your anger. After all, he rejected you, but he is somehow the one crying.

“Y/N I promise you; I will leave you alone if that’s what you wish, but I need you to hear me out before kicking my stupid ass out the door.” Chris pleads. Desperation floods his voice while regret rages in his eyes.

“You have two minutes.” You sigh bracing yourself for further earth-shattering disappointment.

“When you left me alone standing on the pavement, I don’t think I’ve ever felt so heartbroken.” He seeks your approval to keep going, and you reluctantly nod in response. “The truth is I’ve wanted you since the first time I laid eyes on you, but I had reservations. You’re eighteen years younger than me. I was so caught up in what people would think I buried my feelings.”

A stubborn tear frees itself and slides down your cheek. Chris ever so gently wipes it away with the pad of his thumb.

“I’ve tried to fool myself into thinking we could be just friends, but the truth is, I fell in love with you as soon as our eyes met in the lobby at Christopher’s Haven. I saw my whole world in them, and it scared me. I’ve never ever felt like that towards anyone in my life.” He confesses.

You refuse to look up at him as every type of emotion floods through your veins.

“Y/N look at me.” Chris gently turns you to face him and lifts your chin. Your heart beats like a mad drummer as your eyes meet. “It killed me every time I put distance between us. I’ve been such an idiot.” He admits. His eyes search yours for any sign of hope.

“You really hurt me, Chris.” You sigh, “You made me feel like I was worthless – like I was nothing.”

“I’m so sorry sweetheart, I am so, so, sorry.” Chris apologises as regret swirls in the air. “I know there is nothing I can ever say to make up for all the hurt I’ve caused you.” He mumbles. “But I promise I’ll do everything in my power to make it up to you.”

“I don’t know how to trust you.” You admit. Hurt flashes in his eyes, but he quickly recovers.

“Like this.” Chris leans in and delicately brushes his lips against yours. Fireworks excitedly dance on your lips. You’ve longed for months to feel his lips on yours. He waits for your consent to continue which you eagerly give. Sparks flood your entire being as he deepens the kiss. His touch ignites your core. Chris’s intimate touch is better than you’d ever imagined. His love for you is conveyed through his lips as he greedily devours them. Chris kicks the front door closed and gently pushes you up against it.

His lips attack your neck as he finds your sweet spot. You can’t help but moan as Chris’s lips devour every ounce of you. You struggle to rip off his jacket as every ounce of your being is solely focused on craving Chris.

A familiar heat overcomes you as you discard his tie on the floor. You fumble with his buttons but through greedy kisses and distracted moans, you prevail. Chris is now pressed up against you – he’s completely shirtless. You pause for a second, shamelessly checking him out. You’d never openly admired his build. His muscles are so toned and defined. Chris smirks as he catches you admiring his body.

“It’s all yours baby.” He groans as his hands freely roam and explore your breasts.

His eyes darken as he drinks in your appearance. He tugs you closer to him signalling for you to jump into his arms. You wrap your legs around his torso - you can feel how hard Chris is against your inner thigh. He caresses your arse while navigating both of you to your bedroom which officially sends you into a moaning mess.

You pause, desperate to ease all the insecurities still flooding through your head. “How do I know you won’t regret this when people find out?” You ask through laboured breaths.

“Y/N I could never regret being with you. I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you – if you’ll let me.” Chris declares as his eyes swirl with adoration. Love is etched into his face as he takes all of you in. His declaration was confirmation enough. You would talk to him tomorrow and set some firm ground rules, but for now, all you wanted was him. You pull him closer to you, clinging to the love of your life, loving the way he felt on top of you.

Author’s Note: I’m sorry I haven’t posted in awhile. I thought I’d do a Steve Rodgers Imagine. I’m slowly getting through some of the requests you’ve sent me so stay tuned. 

I don’t own this gif

*Not edited* 

Summary: Y/N gets in a fight with Steve. Complete fluff and sweetness at the end. 

A 1940s tune quietly hums throughout the apartment on Steve’s record player. His music wraps around you offering tiny pieces of comfort while you anxiously pace the kitchen for another endless night of worrying.

The clock in your kitchen mockingly calls out your name with every tick, somehow, the hands irrationally antagonise you as you stare it down. Steve’s been on a top-secret S.H.E.I.L.D mission for two weeks. You weren’t allowed to know where he was or how long he would be gone for. The uncertainty fiercely ate at you. Although you knew who you married from the beginning there wasn’t a day that went by where you didn’t fear for his safety.

It’s well past your usual bedtime but you can’t sleep. Filling the sink with hot water you attempt to calm the loneliness that festers in your chest by doing the dishes. Any distraction is warmly welcomed – as long as it vanishes any ugly thoughts of Steve getting hurt.

As much as you didn’t want to admit it, there’s this small piece of you that’s starting to resent Captain America. You couldn’t really make sense of it. You love Steve with every atom of your being, but more often than not Steve chose Captain America and his duties over you – which you understood, but it didn’t make the pain in your chest any lighter. You’d see him for a couple of days then he would embark on weeklong missions. You could see the confliction in Steve’s eyes every time he walked out the front door, you knew it wasn’t easy for him either – you could never ask him to give up saving the world.

Mindlessly you pick up a plate and begin soaking it in the warm soapy water. Looking out the window you can see the stars dancing in the sky as the night air is laced in a peaceful silence.

Suddenly the sound of jingling keys struggling to fit into your front door abruptly pulls you out of your trance like state. The lock turns causing your heart to jump into your throat. The sound of a metal shield being gently placed onto the wooden floor is all the indication you need to let you know that Steve’s finally home. You quickly abandon the dishes and pat your hands on the back of your pyjama pants. Hearing the shuffling of boots being tugged off causes immense excitement to overcome your entire body.

“Y/N? Sweetheart?” Steve quietly hums as he takes in the soft music.

“Steve! You’re home.” You beam at your husband. Steve turns to your voice. His blue eyes light up when he sees you, however, your smile immediately drops when you assess his appearance. His blonde hair is dishevelled while purple blotches and small cuts litter his face. Your eyes drift to his arm; it’s being supported by a sling.

Steve seems to immediately sense your distress. “Don’t freak out sweetheart, it’s just a few scratches. I’ll be completely healed in a couple of hours.” He pulls you into his chest and lightly kisses your temple.

“I’m just glad you’re home.” You mumble into his chest as you feel his muscular arms wrap around you. A sense of calm engulfs both of you as you cling to each other for the first time in weeks. Neither of you have the words to express just how much you’ve missed each other.

Your husband is finally back in your arms. Nothing could bring you down in this moment. Love radiates through your entire body as you tighten your grip around Steve causing him to chuckle.

Pulling away you continue to inspect the cuts on Steve’s face and begin to fuss over him.

“Y/N.” Steve lightly whines in protest, but he does nothing to stop you.

“I’ll make you some herbal tea and find those bandages.” You spring into action mode scurrying around the kitchen. Steve leans against the kitchen door frame as adoration swirls in his blue orbs. He silently admires you causing a heat to rush to your cheeks as you catch him lovingly staring at you.

“We should make dinner plans; I’ve really missed our date nights.” You propose. Truth be told you missed more than your date nights. A piece of you craved Steve’s touch – two whole weeks without indulging in your husbands’ soft lips was way too long.

“That sounds amazing, we can do that when I get back.” Steve says. A tinge of reluctance laces in his voice as he slowly gauges your reaction.

Your heart drops into the pit of your stomach, “When you get back?” You ask hesitantly.

“I have another mission.” He says carefully, “Tomorrow morning.” Steve shifts uncomfortably as he senses your disappointment.

“But you just got back.” You swallow the thick ball of emotion festering in the back of your throat. You turn back to your abandoned dishes and pick them back up. The warm water now slightly cold. You didn’t want Steve to see the tears that stubbornly pool in your eyes.

“How long will you be gone?” You ask stifling the hurt in your voice.

“Two weeks, maybe more, it’s hard to say.” Steve’s answer breaks your heart. A small whimper falls from your lips without your permission as tears freely fall down your cheeks.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry sweetheart.” He comes up behind you wrapping his arms around your waist. Resting his chin on your shoulder he tries to sooth you. “Please don’t cry.”

“I just got you back.” Your voice cracks. You can see Steve’s face in the window reflection. His eyes are taunted by guilt.

“The team needs Captain America.” Steve says as he tries to justify his next mission but something inside of you snaps.

“I don’t care if they need Captain America!” You yell out of pure frustration. “I need Steve Rodgers. I need my husband.” A sudden wave of anger washes over your body. You slam the plate into the sink. The force shatters the plate into small fragments; a shard knicks your palm but you ignore the blood too angry at the world for taking your husband away from you.  

You rip yourself out of his grip and turn to face Steve. His face is riddled with shock and guilt. He’d never seen you this angry or upset before. You’d always been a constant sweet and ever calming presence in his life.

“Y/N you’re hurt.” Steve’s eyebrows furrow with concern as he notices the blood trickling down your hand.

“So are you!”, You push his hands away as he tries to further inspect your hand. “Who are you fighting? Because they seem a hell of a lot stronger than you and just the very thought of that scares me to my core.” You ramble yourself into a completely panicked state.

Steve senses your panic and immediately attempts to offer comfort.

“Y/N…” Steve tries to pull you closer, but you push him away.

“Fine. If you’re going then so am I.”  Steve’s face twists in confusion at your sudden declaration. You rush into the bedroom scanning for a suitcase. You hear Steve’s footsteps close behind you but you valiantly ignore him.

There was nothing remotely super about you. You’re a completely average human with no self-defence skills or special abilities – in fact you lack coordination so the mere thought of you being in a battle is pretty much laughable to anyone who knows you. Steve had tried to show you some self-defence moves when you first started dating but you were hopeless. You’d always end up tripping over your own feet or getting distracted by Steve’s body.  

“Y/N, please stop.” Steve pleas as he gently snatches the suitcase out of your hands careful to avoid the cut that’s imbedded into your palm.

“No, I’m going with you.” You insist as you try to snatch it back, but his strong grip overpowers yours. It was almost like he was taking candy from a baby.

“Like hell you are.” Steve yells back. A fierce sense of protection overcomes his entire body. “I won’t let you walk into something that dangerous.”

“You don’t let me do anything Captain.” You snap back pulling clothes off their hangers.

“You aren’t coming with me Y/N. I’m not putting my wife in danger.” His tone is fierce, but you were desperate.

Steve constantly leaving every couple of days had taken a toll on you. The uncertainty had eaten you alive.  You didn’t even recognise yourself. You’d become angry and bitter at the world for needing your husband. The worry you had for Steve’s wellbeing obstructed your ability to sleep – you couldn’t remember the last time you had a well-rested night. Your days had become completely preoccupied with one thing, and that was worrying about your husband.

“Please.” You whimper as the tears annoyingly return. “Please don’t leave me again.” You stop trying to pack your suitcase as complete desperation overwhelms you.

Steve’s features completely soften. He slowly approaches you as he takes in your appearance. Steve kicks himself for not noticing the dark circles under your eyes. He gently pulls you closer to him, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“Look at me Y/N.” Steve gently tilts your chin upwards so your eyes meet his. Regret etches into his face as he gently cradles you.

“I’m sorry. I’m not trying to guilt you into staying I just miss my husband.” You whisper. Steve softly smiles at your response as he wipes a teardrop away with the pad of his thumb.

“I’ll call Fury, I’ll help coordinate the plan at headquarters but that’s it. I’m sure the team can handle a couple of missions without me.”

“Are you sure?” You ask wondering if your outburst had unintentionally guilted him into staying.

“I’ll be on standby if they need me, but I’m confident that they won’t.” He smiles, “Besides I need to spend time with my girl.” His love for you dances in his eyes as he pulls you in for a hug.

“Thank you for giving up the mission for me, I know how much this all means to you.” You mumble into his chest.

“It means nothing without you.” He declares pulling you into his lips. The world stops spinning as Steve’s soft lips devour yours. You feel yourself melt into the kiss. Steve somehow managers to absorb all your fears as a sense of relaxation washes over you.

“C’mon sweetheart, I need to clean up your hand.” Steve gently tugs you into the bathroom. He carefully picks you up by the waist and sits you on top of the sink.

“I just need a band aid, they’re in the kitchen. I’ll go grab them.” You go to jump off the counter, but he blocks you from leaving. His firm hands grip your thighs officially trapping you in his presence – not that you minded.

Steve smiles as he cheekily presses a soft kiss to your cheek. “Hush, now. Let me take care of my wife.”

Authors note: This probably isn’t what you expected but I like to add a little bit of dramatic spice into the mix. Thank you for all the support.

Not edited

Laughter bounces off the walls as a peaceful type of contentedness playfully dances in the air. You and Chris were at his mother’s house celebrating Thanksgiving. His eyes swirl with glimmers of bliss and pure happiness as the spirited banter between siblings floods the kitchen. A permanent beaming smile has been plastered on Chris’s face all day. His nephews and nieces bickering over who gets to devour the turkey legs only adds to the loving nature that engulfs the house.

Any other year you would be cooking up a storm with the help of Chris’s sisters but this year you were left to delegate from an armchair. Your due date for your first newborn was a week away inhibiting you from doing anything remotely helpful. Not that anyone would let you, especially Chris. He had the whole family willingly doting on your every request. For the whole day, you could feel Chris’s eyes intently scrutinising your every movement. You could tell he was searching for any sign of discomfort, but you knew how to keep your pain hidden. You desperately wanted Chris to enjoy his last thanksgiving without a screaming baby attached to your hip.

A dull ache had been radiating down your lower back throughout the day. Your third trimester had been plagued with Braxton hicks, so, it was difficult for you to distinguish between false labour pains and the real deal. You didn’t feel the urge to tell Chris, it would only send him into a crazed spiral morphed from excitement and panic which would then send the whole household into pandemonium.

Chatter fills the dining room as Thanksgiving dinner is finally served. Chris springs from the piano to help you up when he sees you struggling to escape the armchair.

“You okay gorgeous?” He asks placing a light kiss on your cheek.

“I’m a little cold actually.” Chris’s eyebrows immediately knit together with concern. He takes off his sweater without a second thought and gestures for you to slide it on. You greedily accept the offer fearing your shivers would alert panic.

“Thank you.” You tiredly hum into Chris as he pulls you in for a quick hug. You feel his hands linger on the small of your back trying to decipher if this was a sign of labour.

“If you don’t feel well Y/N, just tell me.” Chris says as suspicion laces his eyes, “because it could be early labour.” He tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear attempting to trap you into talking to him longer so he could observe you in greater detail.

“It’s not early labour.” You lightly scoff, “I’m just tired, and even if it is, first-time mothers take hours, even days to progress into active labour so I’m fine Chris, I promise.” You attempt to half-smile, but it falls flat as your mind spirals. You’d been in pain since the moment you woke up, but you really didn’t want to face the thought of going into labour. It was your first time, and you were beyond scared. You didn’t want to admit that to anyone let alone yourself.

“Well forgive me if I don’t take you at your word considering you aren’t a medical expert and you have this annoyingly wholesome tendency to downplay your own suffering for the benefit of others.” He mutters gently as he ushers you to the table. Chris pulls out your chair for you, noticing how you wince as you sit down, before sitting down himself. He takes your plate making sure to fill it with everything you like before helping himself.

“We will talk after dinner, okay?” You give him a quick peck on the lips to silence him. Chris reluctantly nods in agreement as he laces his fingers in yours and rests them in his lap.

You mindlessly push your food around your plate while you attempt to keep up with the dinner conversation. The more the pain intensified, the harder it became to put on a front of normality. You were admiring Chris’s banter with his nephew when a twinge you’d been nursing all day in the lower-left corner of your back began to tighten. It nearly knocks the wind out of you.

“I just have to go to the toilet, excuse me.” You politely excuse yourself from the rest of the family. You feel Chris’s eyes intently follow you as you waddle to the toilet.

As soon as you close the bathroom door behind you any pretences of normality you so valiantly kept up soberingly evaporates. Suddenly the pain that was once manageable became overwhelmingly present in your body causing you to double over clutching at the sink.

“Holy crap.” You cry out as a gush of warm liquid streams down your legs. To your horror, a majority of that liquid is a dark crimson.

“No this can’t be happening.” You helplessly plea into the air. You try to call out for Chris, but the breath is completely sucked out of you leaving you voiceless. Panic spreads into your veins as your heartbeat becomes deafening.

Your legs begin to violently shake. You couldn’t determine if that was out of fear or if this was a normal part of childbirth. Nothing about this felt normal. Is there supposed to be this much blood? Are you losing your baby? Was your water breaking or something much worse? A million questions flooded your mind. You gently slide down onto the floor scared that you might fall over if you tried to make it back to the dinner table.

“Y/N?” Chris gently knocks on the door, “Are you okay?” His concern carries through the door but before you can answer another round of pain explodes in the lower half of your back. Your response turns into a muffled whimper as you roll on your side in an attempt to find some sort of relief.

“Crap.” He curses. Your whimper was all the permission Chris needed before ripping the door open. You glance up at him attempting to pant out the excruciating pain. His eyes widen, complete fear suddenly etches into his face as he takes in the view of his wife lying in a pool of blood.

“Chris.” You cry out. Your voice knocks him out of his panic-stricken trance as he immediately springs into action.

“Someone call 911 right now!” Chris screams into the hallway. You can briefly hear shouts and muffled footsteps running up and down the hall, but you’re too busy trying to ride out the wave of pain you’re currently in to notice any peaking heads or questions that make their way into the bathroom.

You clutch at Chris’s shirt. “Something is wrong, this isn’t normal.” Your voice shakes. Sweat spreads over you like butter as an abrupt wave of nausea fights its way up.

“Hold on Y/N, an ambulance is coming.” Chris gently rubs comforting circles into the small of your back.

“I think I’m going to be sick.” You cry out as a rush of nausea overcomes you. Chris quickly snatches the bin out of the corner of the room and places it in front of you. You can hear yourself, but your tone is unrecognisable. You’ve never heard your voice drenched in this much fear before. After emptying the contents of your stomach Chris wipes your mouth with a damp towel.

The room begins to sway back and forth as drumming violently pounds in your ears.

“Y/N? Babe? Keep talking to me.” You hear Chris plea. Your heart breaks for him. He resembles a small child lost in a crowd of thousands. He doesn’t know what to do or how to relieve your pain; he’s completely lost in the darkness of fear. His voice is small as he tries to bargain and plea with you in an attempt to keep you conscious.

“Y/N don’t you dare close your eyes,” Chris warns as he continues to pat your sweaty face with a flannel. “C’mon hold on for just a few more seconds.”

Sirens interrupt the intensity heavily lingering in the air as Chris lets out a sigh of relief. “I can’t wait for them, I’m really sorry for what I’m about to do my love.” Chris swiftly picks you up causing pain to shoot down your spine. Letting out a cry you attempt to protest trying to swat him away.

“I’m sorry, baby, I’m so sorry.” Chris repeatedly mumbles as he carries you through the house and down the steps to the driveway in order to get you into the ambulance faster.

You have no concept of time as you feel yourself being poked and prodded by the paramedics. You can’t even remember getting into the ambulance. The only thing you know for certain is that Chris’s hand never leaves yours.

“She’s haemorrhaging.” Is the last thing you hear before floating into an empty abyss of darkness.

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A sore type of stiffness swells in each of your limbs. Your body feels like it’s being weighed down with bricks. As you sway in between reality and darkness a light floods your vision causing you to wince. You try to open your eyes, but they feel glued shut.

“Y/N?” A voice questions. The voice sounds like someone is calling your name from underwater. It’s muffled and suppressed. You notice it has fragments of fear intertwined as they continue to coax you back through the tunnel of reality. You feel yourself drifting closer and closer to the voice.

“Y/N? Can you hear me?” The tone suddenly sharpens causing familiarity to ring through your body. It’s Chris calling to you. You can feel a sudden heat rush to your cheeks as pieces of reality start forming together.

Rapidly blinking you take a moment to get used to your surroundings. White lifeless walls meet your eyes as a constant beeping noise floods your hearing. It takes you a moment to realise where you are. You’re in a hospital.

You attempt to sit up, but your body makes no effort to move.

“Hey take it easy.” Chris’s voice wraps around you.

You feel Chris take your hand in his as he comes into your line of vision. You’ve never seen him look so worn-out before. His hair has been anxiously tugged at while the dark circles under his eyes seem to be growing as every second passes. Fatigue plagues his body as he slumps in his chair.

“Hey.” You croak out, your voice riddled with scratchiness. Chris’s eyes soften as he takes a deep sigh of relief.

“I’ve never been so happy to hear your voice.” Chris smiles while a teardrop slides down the hollow of his cheek as he kisses the back of your hand. Relief twinkles in his eyes. “I’ll just quickly call the nurse.” Chris presses down on the call button for a couple of seconds before turning to you.

“What happened?” A daze of confusion hazes over you as you try to piece everything together.

“You were in labour for all of Thanksgiving you just didn’t know it.” He smiles gently, “Or perhaps you did know but didn’t say anything. Knowing you I suspect it was probably the ladder.” He shoots you a pointed glance but it’s an empty look – there’s no anger or seriousness behind it. “You had to go into emergency surgery but two days ago you gave birth to our son.” Chris grins as he delivers the life-changing news.

“What?!” You burst into tears as a sudden wave of emotion overwhelms your entire body. “Is he okay? What’s his name? Where is he? Two days ago?” You attempt to sit up despite Chris’s protests, but immediately fall back down still not having any strength.

“He’s fine Y/N, he’s absolutely perfect,” Chris reassures you.

“Mr Evans are you oka- Oh Mrs Evans you’re awake.” A nurse beams as she enters the room. “I’ll page the doctor to come and check you, he might be a while though I hope that’s okay.” Both you and Chris nod. “Your son is nearly done with feeding; I’ll bring him back down so he can finally meet his mamma.” The thought of someone else taking care of your baby made your heart nervously flutter. It’s not that you begrudge them at all, but that was supposed to be your job.

The pit of your stomach drops at the thought of meeting your son.

“Thanks, Tiff.” Chris smiles at the nurse as she quickly scurries out of the room and into the hallway. Trust Chris to learn the staff's name you thought to yourself. He’s always been such a gentleman.

“I missed it.” You sigh, “I missed giving birth to him, and then missed the first two days of his life.” The realisation hits you like a tonne of bricks leaving a heaviness to engulf your heart.

“Hey, no. Don’t do that to yourself Y/N.” Chris gets up from his chair and sits at the edge of your bed, “How were you supposed to know that you were internally bleeding? I think he can forgive you for missing two days of his life after having major surgery. Honestly, the doctors warned me you might be out of it for even longer.” Chris takes a moment to recollect himself. It’s obvious he hasn’t slept in a couple of days. “The doctors can explain everything that happened to you much better than I can. Right now, all I care about is my family being in one piece.” He gently kisses your cheek, and you revel in his warm touch.

“Not sure about one piece- I feel like jello.” You lightly chuckle as Chris brings a cup of water to your lips which you greedily drink from.

“What’s his name?” You ask curiously.

“I was waiting for you to wake up before I named him,” Chris says as he squeezes your hand.

“I’m sorry for leaving you in this all alone. It must have been hard, a newborn and a wife in a coma – it’s not exactly what you signed up for.” You swallow the thick ball of guilt that’s been building up in the back of your throat since you woke up and saw how exhausted your husband was.

“In sickness and in health,” Chris says firmly, adoration dances in his eyes.

“There’s someone you should meet.” The nurse reappears in the doorway, but this time she holds a sleeping baby wrapped in cotton blankets. She gently walks forward and places the baby on your chest as you were still too weak to lift your arms. Chris gently supports his head in the transition from nurse to your chest.

As soon as you lay eyes on your baby a momentous swirl of love overcomes your entire being. You’d never felt anything quite like it. Tears pool in your eyes as you feel his little heartbeat patter into your skin.

“He’s beautiful.” You whisper faintly. Wonderment has completely washed over you.

“He’s absolutely perfect,” Chris comments kissing you on the cheek then placing an even softer kiss on your son’s temple.

“We made this.” You mumble to Chris reaching out for a kiss. He moves closer sealing the kiss with his soft lips. A rush of pure bliss rushes through your veins. Both yours and Chris’s tears mix together as the three of you finally unite.

Authors note: Hey Guys! Sorry I haven’t posted in the last two days I wanted to enjoy Christmas with my family here in Australia. Thank you so much for reading my work, have a Merry Christmas, and enjoy the new year.

Warning: Sickness, swearing and not edited.

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Morning sickness

The night-time air was anything but peaceful. Heavy rain thrashes the roof with such force that raindrops could be mistaken for hail fiercely bouncing off the house in a race to reach the soggy ground first. The brooding clouds can only be seen when lightening illuminates the atmosphere. You watch from the small bathroom window as the light dances in the night sky. The wind howls in the darkness earning a small whimper from Dodger who lays curled up next to you on the cool tiles, eyes open and alert. He’d gotten used to you laying on the floor or curled up in bed sensing that you weren’t yourself. Dodger would sit with you protectively keeping watch over you.

A small night light from when Chris’s nephews and niece slept over is the only internal source of brightness that emits a soft glow throughout the bathroom. You didn’t want to turn the light on and unintentionally wake him.

Chris’s light snores peacefully echo through the house. You chuckle to yourself as he sleeps; completely ignorant to the raging storm that engulfs the east coast. You attempt to muster some sort of comfort from his peaceful state, but you were trapped in your own bubble of misery.

Earlier in the trimester you’d been diagnosed with Hyperemesis Gravidarum, intense morning sickness, that could overcome you at any point during the day. You’d been struggling most days, losing the battle to your nausea.

“Ah not again.” You whine into the toilet bowl as a wave of nausea rapidly floods your body. You’d been camping out in the bathroom awkwardly perched with your head resting on the toilet seat since two in the morning. Your legs ached from your rigid position but every time you moved another fierce wave of sickness would come crashing over you.

Dodger lovingly rests his head on your thigh seemingly understanding this was somewhat distressing for you as you empty the remaining contents of your stomach for what feels like the one hundredth time. Beads of sweat litter your forehead as you shudder in discomfort.

“Y/N?” You hear Chris call from the bedroom as he shuffles towards the bathroom light switch. He flicks it on; Chris’s shirtless figure now completely illuminated as he takes a couple of moments to adjust to the sudden intrusion of brightness.

No mirror is necessary to know you look like a complete mess. You attempt to tuck the loose strands of hair that had fallen out of your messy bun behind your ear, but they remain glued to your forehead in a thick layer of sweat. All efforts to redeem a sense of normality to your appearance becomes futile as Chris assesses the current situation he’s awoken to. His hair messily shoots in all directions as he strides closer to you. A softness paints his features as he drinks in your fatigued appearance.

“You should have woken me baby.” He hums, a tinge of guilt floods his eyes. Chris walks over to the counter, taking a flannel he runs it under some water before turning his attention back to you. He takes a seat next to you on the cool tiles, giving Dodger a comforting pat.

“I didn’t want to; you were so peaceful. There’s nothing you can really do for my morning sickness babe.” You sluggishly half smile, “Besides Dodger’s been keeping me company.” You mumble as Chris pulls you into him before he flushes the toilet.  

“That’s my job.” Chris scoffs as he gently presses the flannel to your forehead. Instant relief washes over you.

“Thank you.” You hum into his shoulder. Out of the corner of your eye you can see pride swell in Chris’s orbs as he successfully aids in the relief of your discomfort. “That feels nice.” You lazily reply resting all your weight on his shoulder.

“How long have you been like this Y/N?” Chris asks as curiosity etches into his face. His voice is laced in scrutiny and has a ‘don’t lie to me’ type of tone infused into his question.

“Since 2:00am.” You reply, your voice riddled in exhaustion.

“Shit Y/N.” He mutters pulling you further into him so you could rest all your weight onto his bare chest. His cool skin brought temporary comfort to the heat that seems to relentlessly burn your skin. “We need to get you back to bed gorgeous, you can barely hold yourself up.” You expect Chris to be more freaked out than he was, but he seems to know exactly what you need before you do.

“No.” You whine, “It’s too hot in bed, and I still feel so sick.” Your breath tightens as a sudden flow of tears pool in your eyes. “I’m excited for our baby, don’t get me wrong, but I’m just so exhausted. They aren’t even here yet.” Your lip quivers at the idea of already being overwhelmed. Hot sticky tears cling to your face as the exhaustion engulfs your entire being.

“Hey shh, it’s okay baby.” Chris coos into your ear while he gently sways you back and forth. He waits until your breathing settles down to unleash a pep talk. “You’ve been sitting here for three hours valiantly pushing through your pain for our little bub. You’re doing great Y/N, you’re a first-time mother – it’s supposed to be confusing and scary, and feeling those emotions doesn’t make you a bad mom.” He gently kisses your temple as he continues to etch comforting patterns into your back with the pad of his thumb.

“Here’s what we are going to do.” Chris declares, “I’m going to carry you back to bed, I’ll turn on the air conditioner so your nice and cool. Then I’ll get you a bucket, so you don’t have to run to the toilet anymore.” He pauses to take in your reaction, “I think you’re dehydrated as well, so I’ll get you a water bottle and another cool flannel, okay? How does that sound?” He asks. All you could muster was a slight nod to his plan.

“I’m going to lift you up baby.” Chris warns. He quickly manoeuvres both of you, sliding you under his arms. In one swift movement both of you are up and heading towards the bedroom. You weakly cling to him.

Chris makes his way to the bed, carefully placing you on the mattress. He quickly rearranges your pillows so your half sitting up in an attempt to combat the relentless nausea. “Here I’ll get you another nightie, this one is soaked in sweat and sick.” You nod barely registering what’s going on as a new wave of nausea hits you. Chris quickly turns on the fan and the air-conditioner before he returns with a bucket, and a full water bottle. You greedily take a swig of water as your throat burns for some sort of relief. Chris patiently waits until your done before gently taking the bottle and sitting it on the bed side table.

“Okay arms up.” He commands. You weakly lift your arms as Chris slides off your dirty nightie. The relief is instant as your no longer bogged down by a sweaty, sick stained piece of clothing. He gently unhooks your bra, discarding it in the corner of the room and tugs on a new nightie he must have foraged for in your wardrobe.

“I thought you might be more comfortable without a soaked bra on.” Chris faintly smiles, as he continues to readjust your pillows.

Your husband was always one step ahead of you. The truth is you wanted your bra off hours ago but didn’t have the strength to pull it off.  

“Have another sip please.” He gently demands while taking a seat right next to you on the bed. He brings the water to your lips as you begrudgingly obey his commands. Once you’re finished with the water, he swaps it out for a new flannel. Chris begins to lightly pat your forehead hoping to cool you down even further.

“Go to sleep gorgeous, I’ll be right here.” He hums gently as he continues to tend to your every need.

He cuts you off before you can protest with a light kiss on the cheek. Adoration floods his eyes as you lean into his touch.

You try to fight the tiredness, but Chris’s tender touch allows you for the first time in hours to feel the relief you’ve so desperately craved, ultimately lulling you into a peaceful sleep despite the storm that continued to rage throughout the early hours of the morning.

Request of Possessiveness.

Warning sexual themes.

Authors note: not edited. I hope you like it. I always feel like I'm a total let down when it comes to requests

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Laughter echoes through the dining hall as Christmas cheer dances in the air. You were at your Christmas work party relishing in your accomplishments for the year. You were allowed a plus one so of course, you drag your husband to the end of year party. It was well known around the office that you were married to Chris Evans, but thankfully it didn’t faze too many of your colleagues.

You sat between Chris and your co-worker Greg. You two had grown close since you began working on a six-month project together. Whilst Greg was conventionally attractive, he could never compare to your husband. Your connection was pure friendship.

Throughout the night you could feel Chris becoming agitated the more Greg spoke to you. No matter how many reassuring touches or sweet kisses you showered Chris with it fell short. He was never usually jealous? Despite your best efforts to maintain distance between yourself and Greg he somehow managed to wiggle his way in between you and your husband.

“I don’t know if I’ve mentioned this, but you look utterly gorgeous tonight.” Greg beams as a flirty glint radiates through his deep brown eyes.

Chris scoffs, “You have actually – about three times in the last hour.” Chris takes a swig of his beer, not even trying to suppress his eye roll.

“Thanks, Greg, but the real beauty here tonight is my husband.” You beam up at Chris earning a small smile from him. Whilst you were trying to defuse the tension, there was nothing but truth behind your words. Chris looked devastatingly handsome in his tux. His hair was swept to the side, and beard trimmed just the way you like it. His suit was perfectly tight enough to show off his muscular physique. Every woman in the room was drooling over him – including you. I mean could you really blame them?

“Y/N why do you always fail to take a compliment?” Greg laughs as he tries to affectionately pat your shoulder. Before Greg makes contact, Chris pulls you into his chest placing a light feather kiss on your temple.

“My wife rarely fails at much.” Chris dryly laughs but there’s a distinct tinge of darkness to his tone. “Perhaps you don’t know her as well as you think you do.” His hand travels up your thigh landing just inches away from being considered totally inappropriate for a work event. Greg’s eyes follow Chris’s firm touch sliding up your thigh, he nearly chokes on his drink when he sees where Chris’s touch lingers.

Heat rushes to your cheeks from the extra attention you’re receiving from Chris tonight. A desire for your husband floods your entire being. “Excuse me boys I have to go powder my nose.” You get up from the table, both men intently watching you. You desperately had to recollect yourself since you were at a work event.

Before you could make it into the ladies’ room a firm hand presses into the small of your back. You instantly relax into the touch knowing it's Chris.

“What are you doin…” Chris cuts you off with a greedy kiss as he ushers you around the corner pushing you up against the wall. You were hidden from any wondering eyes as the corner only led to a hallway with a fire exit attached to the end.

“You … are … mine…” Chris grunts possessively as he attacks your neck with greedy love bites. You try to muffle your cries but Chris knows your sweet spot.

He pulls back admiring his work on the nape of your neck smirking at how breathless you are.

“Did you just give me a hickey?” You ask half bewildered to his unusual antics.

“Now everyone will know that you're mine.” He replies casually, wiping the lipstick off his mouth.

“I think our marital status will be enough.” You reply sharply, searching for any ounce of reason to explain his behaviour.

“Greg didn’t get the memo.” His jaw clenches as a fierce look clouds his eyes.

“Greg and I are just friends.” Your whole body softens as your earlier suspicions of jealousy are confirmed. “You didn’t have to mark me like a caveman to prove that.”

“You didn’t seem to mind baby.” He smirks, a smug sparkle swirls in his eyes. “I bet you're totally drenched.” He smiles pulling you closer.

“Maybe.” You smirk into the kiss feeling his tongue coax you into pure bliss.

“You are mine.” He declares as his hands firmly squeeze your butt cheeks. “I’ll remind you every night if I have to.” He threatens lightly.

Authors note: I just wanted to say thank you for reading my work, I never thought anyone would be remotely interested in my writing.

Warnings: Swearing and armature writing. Not edited. -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

*Mobbed*

You felt the peace in the summary air hastily evaporate as an uneasy feeling overwhelmed your senses. You quickly reach for Chris’s hand desperately intertwining your fingers as if he were a life raft shielding you from any type of painful demise.

The bright flashes of cameras flood your senses temporarily blinding you.

“Stay close to me Y/N, hold on to my shirt.” Chris gently commands but you can hear the tension laced in his voice.

Chris had planned a day filled with romantic gestures and loving date ideas. For the first time in months, you both had time off from your busy careers. Chris decided he wanted to revisit a restaurant in Manhattan – the one that played host to your first date, so you made a day trip out of it. Both of you were excited to revisit such a momentous place that nurtured the very beginnings of your love story.  

The day started out perfect – both relishing in each other’s happiness. Thousands of stolen kisses and playful touches later you were making your way to the restaurant when Chris tensed up. To your dismay he pointed out several paparazzi that had been following you around for God knows how long. Whilst you weren’t a stranger to Chris receiving so much attention, you weren’t accustomed to men with big cameras yelling out your name beaconing you two to kiss for the money shot.

Once one started following you it stirred an attraction that eventually lured in all passer byers. It was like you two were magnets drawing in every wondering eye. You could feel yourself shrinking deeper and deeper into yourself as the crowd grew.

Chris lowered his cap down and pulled you tightly into his side making sure you were securely nestled into him.

Drums beat in your ears as you feel yourself desperately clinging to Chris. He glances down at you; a look of sympathy swirls in his eyes. It was obvious to him that you were scared out of your mind.

A barrage of questions and statements were hurled at you.

“Look it’s Captain America!”

“Chris! Y/N! Give us a kiss!”

“Y/N when do you plan on giving this man children?”

“Can I please have a photo with you?”

Your heart falters as you feel hands nipping and grabbing at you. Words are caught in the back of your throat as you try to communicate with Chris just how unsafe you truly feel. This was your first time being mobbed so your knowledge and actions were at a complete loss on how to escape this escalating situation. Chris attempts to pull you closer but it’s too late. You feel yourself slip into the abyss of people as a random set of hands rips you in their direction. You face plant directly into the fierce pavement knocking the air out of your lungs. A stinging sensation rapidly fires down your palms. Gasping you look up, but Chris isn’t in your line of vision.

“Chris?!” You scream feeling the crowd engulf you. The sound of the mass gathering floods your ears with a high pitch ringing. Everything is going in slow motion except your rapid heartbeat that nearly explodes out of your chest.

“Y/N?!” You can barely make out the words, but the familiar tone indicates that Chris has fought his way to you. “Fuck.” He mutters as he takes in your appearance.

Swamped with disorientation Chris swiftly picks you up and places you on your feet. The world goes wonky. Your hearing staggers. You recognise that he is asking if you’re okay, but there’s no sound to his question.

He hushes you into his chest as he navigates his way through the crowd, his arms nearly crushing you out of fear. Chris says something to you, but you can’t make it out. Your hearing is still adjusting to the hard knock you just received. He hurls you into a cab, practically shoving you through the door and into the backseat.

“Get us out of here please.” Chris pants as he slides next to you slamming the door. His cap is no longer perched on his head, his hair is ruffled and there are a couple of scratch marks etched into his skin. He turns to look at you, fear mustering in his eyes.

“Fuck Y/N.” He takes your face into his hands quickly assessing the damage. Guilt radiates through his eyes when he sees your scratched up palms. “I tried baby; I swear I tried to hold on to you.” He fumbles as he continues to search for hidden injuries.

“Please baby, tell me you’re okay, say something.” He frantically asks as panic floods his body.

“I think I’m okay, just shaken up.” You say but it comes out as a choked whisper.

“Thank god.” Chris sighs in relief as he pulls you into his chest. “That was the scariest moment of my life. I thought I’d lost you.” He pulls you onto his lap needing to feel you in order to calm himself down.

Gently kissing his lips, you rub soothing circles into his cheek. You stay in that position until his breathing calms down.

“I lost my hearing back there.” You mumble into his chest causing his whole body to tense back up.

“Hey, can you take us to the nearest hospital.” Chris politely instructs the taxi driver. The driver nods in response curiously peeking into his back mirror. He says nothing, just continues to drive. Almost as if Chris senses your protests, he cuts you off before you can speak. “You could have a concussion you faceplanted into concrete.” He says trying to hide the shiver of horror creeping down his spine.

There’s no energy left in either of your bodies, so naturally you collapse into each other.

“I’m sorry for ruining our day.” He mumbles into your hair. You can tell he is completely defeated.

“It’s not your fault Chris, don’t even think like that for one second, okay?” You push yourself up so you’re looking directly into his eyes. “You won’t lose me I swear.” You gently reiterate knowing he needed to hear these reassurances out loud.

Chris gently pulls you in for a short but sweet kiss knowing that there were no words conveying how he felt. His gentle touch soothing all the scrapes and bruises.

“I hope I didn’t flash anyone.” You giggle into his ear attempting to lighten the mood.

“That’s not even remotely funny Y/N.” He murmurs while shooting you a disproving glare while you chuckle.

So, it wasn’t your perfect day trip that you planned, but at least you still had each other.