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mrderofcr0ws · 15 days ago

Text

leather

steve rogers x fem!reader (2nd person pov) (i’m not sure of the word count but it’s definitely long <3) (roughly edited)

summary: there’s one thing that reminds you of steve rogers above all else. no, it’s not the colors red, white, and blue or stars and stripes. it’s much simpler. leather.

content warnings: 18+, almost established relationship?, friends with wayyyy too many benefits, friends who call each other babe and end phone calls by making kissing noises!!!, “friends”, stupid old fashioned lover boy steven grant rogers, very detailed smut, oral (fem receiving), p in v (protected and unprotected because things got freaky and nasty. idk i just write here!!! i don’t make the rules!!!), uh oh, if it isn’t the consequences of unprotected sex… happy ending!

you didn’t think that being friends with steve rogers would’ve brought you what it did. he fought aliens and you saw him beat to shit on the news being interviewed every time he saved the town, the city, the world— but the hard part wasn’t the fact that he was an avenger. it wasn’t the fact that he was nearly a hundred years older than you or a super soldier, either. the hard part was lying to yourselves that it wasn’t anything more.

“are you sure you don’t need a ride? i don’t mind swinging by to grab you.” steve said over the phone. it was a miracle he managed to remember how to pick up when it rang let alone call you.

“no,” you said. you pressed the button to the elevator and waited for it. it was four floors down. you’d just gotten off work. you worked for a small company as an office secretary. easy work. good money. “i’m fine. i’ll be able to make the train.”

“i don’t want you to have to take the train. last time you did, you said there was a drunk guy yelling at a pole for bumping into him.” steve said. you could hear the smile in his voice.

“i don’t want to have to make you drive. you know the traffic is gonna be real bad.” you said as the elevator opened. you got in and pressed level one. “and it’s not like you’re not seeing me in a few hours. we have sam’s thing tonight.”

“i know we have sam’s thing.” steve said.

“you’ll last four hours, rogers.” you promised. you ran a hand through your hair. “besides, i’m already off work anyways. i don’t want to have to wait for you to get all the way here. i’d rather brave the train.”

he sighed into the phone. “you’re so stubborn.”

“i think you’re the stubborn one.” you said as the elevator doors opened. your heels clicked on the speckled marble of the main floor’s lobby.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about.” steve said.

over the phone, you heard cars honking at each other. you heard them in person, too. your heels stopped clicking because you stopped walking. you looked out the large glass windows and narrowed your eyes.

“you’re outside.” you said, shaking your head.

you could almost hear him nodding. better yet, you could see it from where he was leaned against his truck. “i’ve been here for like fifteen minutes, yeah.”

“you mother…” you gave an exasperated huff but couldn’t fight the smile curling on your lips. “i’m the stubborn one?”

“mwah,” steve kissed his phone.

you rolled your eyes and hung up, but not before giving him a kiss back. mwah.

you made your way through the revolving door and shoved your phone into your back pocket. a few feet away, steve was wearing his usual brown leather jacket, a flannel, and jeans. he pushed his sunglasses up onto his head, giving you a once over that made your cheeks warm. he smiled at you.

did he always have to be so god damn charming?

he reached out and pinched your cheek. “what? not happy to see me, sweetheart?”

“i never said that,” you muttered, nudging his hand away from your face. but you didn’t let it go. you laced your fingers with his and gave his hand a soft squeeze.

“i’m happy to see you, too.” he said. he squeezed your hand before leaning in and giving you a gentle kiss on the cheek. “now get in.”

you didn’t argue. you let him open up the door for you and you climbed right into his truck. you buckled in as he made his way around. his truck smelled like him. woody cologne, spearmint gum, and leather.

you’d never given any thought to the smell of leather until you’d become such good friends with steve.

the leather jacket he wore. the leather seats in his truck. the leather couch he had in his apartment. the leather punching bags he used to train. the man was a bit of a leather connoisseur and you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t rubbing off on you.

it was.

you thought of him every time you saw leather. especially a warm-brown jacket. you didn’t have to try to hard to imagine the smell. it was all over the inside of the truck right now.

“come to my place.” steve said, glancing over at you. he reached out a hand and placed it on the back of your head rest.

“i just got off work, babe. i wanted to get ready for tonight. take a shower and eat something.” you said.

“shower at mine. lord knows you have more than enough clothes there. my closet is practically yours now. and i’ve got food. plenty of it because i just went shopping. i’ll even pick you up something while you shower if you’d like.” steve said.

you pursed your lips in thought. he drove a hard bargain. and you definitely had enough clothes at steve’s. thinking about it, some of your favorite clothes were at his place. you could put together something cute for tonight.

“alright, fine.” you said. you glanced over at him and nodded. “i’ll hang at yours.”

“good,” steve said with a smile. he placed his hand on your thigh and gave it a squeeze. he was looking at you out of the corner of his eye. “it’s been too long since i got to see you, baby. i missed ya.”

your heart skipped a beat. heat filled your cheeks and turned them rosy. butterflies moshed in your belly and made you feel tingly all over.

this fucking guy…

“i missed you, too.” you said under your breath. you watched his hand on your thigh. he rubbed his thumb back and forth. his large, calloused hand was so warm you could feel it sear your skin through your clothes.

he’d been gone for a couple of weeks. he had a covert mission overseas. shield — or what was left of it after the whole hydra-is-shield scandal — started deploying him on all sorts of operations. it was good for him. waiting for the avengers to be called upon left him with pretty big gaps in time where he wasn’t doing much. even though you worried for him when he was gone and you missed him more than you wanted to admit, you were glad he had stuff to do. it was better than him sitting at home and devolving into a 100-year-old ipad kid.

steve was tight-lipped about what he did on his missions. not only did he have to be, but being a soldier meant he followed orders. if orders were to keep quiet about what he’d done while sent off somewhere, he kept quiet about it.

most times, at least.

“we infiltrated some labs out in europe that fury suspected hydra to still be active in.” steve said as he opened the door to his apartment building for you.

you walked in and turned your head towards him. “but i thought you dismantled hydra last year?”

“i wish, darling. there are still some cockroaches left behind.” steve said.

the elevator in his apartment was going through maintenance so you had to take the stairs. thankfully, he lived on the third floor so you didn’t have to trek to the upper floors. well, you didn’t have to trek at all because as soon as you entered the stairwell, he tossed you over his shoulder.

“steven!” you laughed.

“relax,” he said as he made his way up the stairs. “can’t have you breathless just yet, babydoll. haven’t even gotten you inside.”

your face reddened. you gave his ass a smack that earned you a chuckle from him.

you and steve were friends.

really good friends.

really, really good friends who slept together. both in the literal sense that you slept in his bed and he slept in yours. as well in the other where he stuck it in you.

it sort of just happened.

you spent a lot of time together. him at your place. you at his place. it started with kisses on the cheek. every time he greeted you — whether it was hello or goodbye — he kissed you on the cheek. he held your hand. he let you hold his arm while you walked together. he wrapped an arm around you when you watched movies on the couch. he spooned you when you slept in his bed.

those sweet, friendly kisses weren’t replaced by the passionate ones you’d share when the tension between you both became too thick. no, nothing could replace those innocent pecks on the cheek— but you’d made room in your heart for the ones that meant a little bit more. the ones that implied there was more between you both than friendship.

“you can put me down now,” you said, giggling still. he had you over his shoulder as he dug into his pocket for his keys.

“i’ll put you down when i wanna put you down.” he said as he unlocked his front door.

he carried you inside and kicked the door shut with his foot. you reached out and locked it for him. he slid his hand up to your thigh and gave you a gentle, appreciative squeeze. it made you blush all the more. hanging over his shoulder had already made your face red — both from the blood going there and the action itself — but it was hotter now.

he sat you down on his couch. the cushioned leather was soft under your butt. he straightened out your hair for you as he squatted down in front of you. he was smiling. so soft and sweet, he looked as happy as could be. you knew he was. he liked being around you. according to him, you made the world make sense again.

you felt the same way about him.

“i’ll run the shower for you.” he said, giving your chin a soft touch before getting up.

“you going to join me?” you asked.

he looked down at you and grinned. “i was going to make you something to eat while you showered, but i’m not opposed to it. i will if you want me to.”

you let out a soft hum of contemplation. “i think i’d rather you make me food.”

“food it is then.” steve nodded.

— ☆ ☆ ☆ —

you liked steve’s shower better than your own. it had better water pressure. you also liked using his soap. you had soap here, too, but his was better. he always made sure to get you the right kind for your hair for when you stayed over, but you like using his body soap. you liked to smell like him.

you brushed your teeth after getting out of the shower. you had a toothbrush here. of course, you did. it sat in the cup next to his. you liked the way his toothpaste tasted. you always meant to change the one you bought to his when you went shopping, but you had a feeling he liked to use yours when he was over your place for the same reason that you liked to use his.

you liked to taste like him.

your hair was still wet when you left the bathroom. you made your way down the hall to his bedroom wrapped in a towel. you’d contemplated going into the kitchen in nothing but a towel to tease him, but you chose to be on your best behavior. it was for the best that the teasing wait until after he made you something to eat. you were pretty hungry.

but maybe best behavior was a stretch.

steve did a double take when you walked into the kitchen. you wore one of his BROOKLYN shirts and a pair of panties. he stared intently down at the pan where he was making you a quick omelette.

“how was work?” he asked. he had already asked you in the car. you had him flustered. you were all cute in his clothes and still a bit flush in the face from a nice, hot shower.

“work was fine. answered a lot of emails today.” you said as you hopped up onto the counter behind him. the white granite was cold under your butt.

you kicked your feet and grinned at the back of his head. “and your day?”

“it’s better now that i’m with you.”

you couldn’t help but bite your lip as he turned around. he shook the pan just enough to keep the egg from burning and sticking to the hot metal. he plopped it down onto the plate he had all set up beside you. your eyes met and he smirked at you.

he was so god damn handsome.

the water from the tap sizzled at it hit the hot pan. you dug into the omelette and made sure to blow on every bite you took. it was hot but it was delicious.

“good?” he asked, undoing the buttons of his flannel.

“great.” you answered.

you watched him shrug off the blue and white material before laying it on the counter. he wore a white wifebeater underneath. all those mouth-watering muscles were on display.

you found yourself hungry all over again.

but his cooking couldn’t fix that problem.

“want a bite?” you asked, offering him some. you held your hand underneath the fork in case it fell.

“gonna feed me, baby?” steve asked, his lips curled at the corners. he moved to stand between your legs.

you rolled you eyes but offered him the bite anyways. he took it. his teeth lightly scraped against the fork. he seemed pleased with himself. it was a good omelette for sure. you used the fork to cut off another bite for him. this time when you raised it up, it fell off the fork and into you palm.

your eyes met.

he dipped his head down to eat from your hand.

it shouldn’t have turned you on but it did. it was those eyes of his. he kept his gaze on you the whole time. he made sure to brush his tongue lightly against the soft lines of your hand, making sure he got every crumb.

“it tastes better this way.” he whispered.

you didn’t think.

you just kissed him.

he came willingly into your touch as you grabbed him by the back of his neck and tugged him forward. he pressed his lips onto yours with a hunger that matched your own. the fork clattered on the counter as you dropped it behind you. his hands slid under your thighs and in one swift motion, you were in his arms. you hooked your legs around his waist as your tongue danced with his.

“i missed you so much, sweetheart…” steve huffed into the kiss. he carried you to the couch and lowered you down onto the dark leather.

you responded by pulling him down on top of you. he settled in between your legs. the rough fabric of his jeans glided across the soft fabric of your panties. it made you sigh into the kiss.

you missed him, too.

he couldn’t help himself as he began grinding his growing erection into the warm space between your legs. you loved it. you loved that he melted into you— that he fell victim to the pleasure you made each other feel. you loved that the stress of the line between friendship and more blurred in moments like these.

you could kiss and grind and have sex with him right now and you didn’t have to worry about what it all meant until later when it was said and done.

he was straining in his jeans. you could feel it. the leather of the couch whimpered under his knuckles as he pressed a closed fist down into it by your head. he was trying to take it slow. he always tried to make it feel less like a fuck and more like love— but the need was too great. sometimes, the desire burned his blood too hot and he couldn’t help himself.

sometimes, it just needed to be a fuck.

“can i have you?” he broke the kiss and panted. his lips grazed the line of your jaw, nipping at the soft skin. “let me have you, baby. i want you. i need ya.”

all you could manage was a nod.

it was pathetic really. all it took was a couple of kisses and feeling him swell in his jeans to have you aching. your panties were almost soaked through already. it wasn’t your fault he was good at all this— but maybe you should’ve had more self respect. the thought bugged you every now and again. maybe you should have played a little harder to get.

but you didn’t want that.

you wanted him.

“mm, honey, keep that up.” steve sighed into your ear. you were working your hips up onto him, trying desperately to prolong the friction between you.

you tangled your hands into his once neat blonde hair. he loved the feeling. it made his eyes flutter shut to feel you tug and tangle your fingers into it. you hooked your legs higher up on his waist and worked your hips in time with his.

he was so hard. you wouldn’t have been surprised if there was a wet patch as large as the one in your panties soaking through his boxers. you could feel it poking at you. it was going to tear a whole in his jeans at this rate.

your breath caught as he began to kiss down your neck. his mouth ghosted over your breasts through his shirt. he pressed kisses to where your nipples we’re hiding under the fabric. he inched down the couch the further down he went. he slid his hands underneath the end of his shirt that you wore, gliding it upwards to reveal you tummy.

he groaned.

“you’re a dream, sweetpea.” he murmured as he leaned in and rubbed his lips over the soft skin of your belly. “a god damn dream.”

“steve,” you breathed out.

“i know, baby.”

he knew exactly what you wanted. he slid his hands down your waist to your hips. he slipped his fingers into the waistband of your panties and in one fluid motion, they came off. he tossed them aside, pressing slow kisses to the cap of your left knee. his eyes drank in the sight of you bare from the waist down— in nothing but his shirt.

steve kneeled down in front of the couch and tugged you in front of him. he pulled your hips forward. your butt was on the very edge of the couch and your legs were open nice and wide. he didn’t hesitate when your hand found its home in his hair once more. he leaned in and kissed you right on the pussy.

he was a passionate lover.

and he was a munch.

you’d’ve thought he was starving to death the way he lapped and licked at the soft, wet flesh between your thighs. he ate up every glistening ounce of arousal like he earned it. he had. your panties wouldn’t have been soaked without him. and he soaked you even more now.

spit and arousal coated his chin. it dribbled off your skin and onto the couch. hell, it dripped down onto the rug. he didn’t care. he couldn’t care. he was focused on one thing and one thing only.

making you cum.

you gripped his hair between your fingers tight enough to make him grunt. it made him hornier— hungrier. he squeezed your waist between his hands and moved his mouth to your clit. he sucked and licked at the sensitive nub. he groaned against your pussy as you worked your hips up into his mouth.

“mhm,” he encouraged.

find your pleasure, baby.

you knew that’s what he wanted from you. you knew that’s what he would’ve said if his mouth wasn’t so busy— and you kept that mouth of his busy. with your head tipped back and your eyes pinched such, you kept grinding on his tongue. you could hear the clinking of his belt as he fumbled to get it undone and relieve the pressure in his jeans.

he loved when you used him to cum.

and it didn’t take you long at all.

your body tensed and your toes curled. you saw stars dance across the inside of your eyelids as they dashed up and down your spine. you grasped his hair, pushing his head as snug as it could be between your thighs— and you came. you came so hard it winded you.

it had been weeks.

and that was too fucking long to be apart from him.

“oh, baby,” steve panted, licking his lips clean. he grabbed your panties and wiped his chin off with them. “look at you, my sweet girl.”

you were a mess already.

your face was flush. your thighs were shaking. your pussy was soaked with his saliva and your orgasm. your chest was rising and falling wildly. you’d never looked more beautiful to him.

well, he couldn’t lie and say that. the most beautiful you had ever looked to steve was after sex when you were curled up in his arms and clinging to him.

he couldn’t wait to have you like that.

“i want you,” you whimpered out.

“i know, honey.” steve said as he stood up. he scooped you up into his arms and kissed your shoulder. “m’ coming real soon.”

you felt dizzy as he carried you to his bedroom. he laid you down on his bed and gave your hip a soft pat, wordlessly telling you to lay down. you did as you were told. you wiggled your way up the bed and laid your head down on the pillows. you watched him get undressed.

he pulled off his wifebeater. you’d never admit it, but you thought that was the sluttiest thing in the world for a guy like him to wear. lingerie turned him on when he saw you in it. for you, a plain old wifebeater that hid none of that muscle did the trick. he tossed it aside and fixed his hair. he kicked off his boots and unzipped his jeans all the way. your pussy was so wet you were convinced it was crying out for him. he could’ve seen it for himself if he’d looked between your legs — open and shaking still — but he wasn’t looking there.

he was looking into your eyes.

“take your shirt off,” he whispered just loud enough for you to hear as he tugged down his jeans and boxers.

you pulled the shirt that belonged to him over your head and swept it off the bed. when you looked back down, he was completely bare. all that big muscle was only moments from behind under the tips of your fingers. that warm skin brushing against yours. that hefty, dripping cock filling you up all the way.

you whimpered.

and he didn’t waste anymore time.

he climbed onto the bed and made his way in between your legs. he used his thighs to spread you open wider, making room for himself. he pressed one arm down beside your head on the pillow as the other cupped the curve of your jaw.

for a moment, he stared into your eyes.

in that moment, you knew you loved him.

but you’d known that for a while now…

he leaned down and pressed his lips onto yours. you melted as he kissed you. you felt like a puddle below him. like melted ice cream in the palms of his hands, so messy and sweet. you tried to hook your legs around his waist but he stopped you.

you turned your head as he reached over to the nightstand and opened the drawer. you let out a soft breath as he pulled out a condom. he sat back on his knees and tore it open with his teeth.

he was so handsome it hurt your eyes. if he wasn’t between your legs now, you might’ve had a hard time believing he was real. well, maybe you did have a hard time believing it. you were the only woman in the world who got to see captain america put a condom on. you were the only woman in the world who got to kiss him— got to fuck him.

“ready?” he asked under his breath as he lowered onto his forearms again. he caged you beneath him. your chests pressed together and you breathed as he breathed, hard and heavy.

“yes,” you whispered.

you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in close. your forehead’s kissed. his nose grazed yours and you felt him reach down. he prodded at you with the tip, finding your soft, wet opening. he sank into you inch by inch, so slow it felt like he was branding you— reminding you that he belonged inside of you.

“mmm,” he groaned, biting down on his bottom lip. he brushed his nose against yours as he nodded. “oh, baby, you’re so soft. you feel like silk. so good.”

you loved that he couldn’t help but ramble. his hips shuddered forward as he ached to be deeper. he ached to move. to thrust. to pound every inch into the soaking heat inside you. but he savored it— this moment of intimacy between the two of you.

“i missed you,” you whispered. your hands were trembling as you cupped his face.

“i missed you, too.” he said breathlessly. he met your eyes and slid one of his hands over your heart. “so, so, so much, sweetheart.”

you grasped the back of his neck, bracing yourself as he you felt him pull his hips back. you were gasping before he even sank back in. when he did, he was so deep inside you that it knocked the air out of your lungs. and then he did it again. just like before. deep and firm. purposeful.

and then again.

and again until every one of his thrusts began to make the springs in his mattress creak.

it was instantly sweltering between you two. you could feel sweat building on your belly. under your breasts. on the back of your neck. it made every smack of skin louder. the room was potent with the smell of sex and sweat. you could taste it on your lips as you kissed the side of his face. maybe for some people i was a turn off, but for you right now? you didn’t care.

you wanted all of him.

“christ, doll, you’re the best lay i’ve ever had.” steve said, his voice tight and tense in his throat. he rolled his hips into you, grinding his pelvis right into your clit. “i can’t get enough of ya.”

“its all for you, baby.” you moaned.

he smirked. you could see it when he turned his head and met your eyes. “all for me, yeah?”

“yeah.” you promised. your heart skipped a beat. maybe two. you were getting dizzy. you were going to cum again soon.

“i wanna see it,” he said. that new york accent came out so thick when he was all worked up like this and you couldn’t get enough of it.

he sat back on his knees and pushed your legs open. it made him groan. the sight of you stuffed full of him could’ve made him the dizzy one. hell, he nearly was.

“look at you,” he sighed. he spoke so reverently. it was like he was witnessing something biblical. like you were an angel that fell from heaven and landed right in his bed.

he thumbed at your folds, spreading them apart just enough to admire how tight you were around his shaft. “you take me so fuckin’ good, babydoll.”

he swore.

god, you loved when he swore.

captain clean-mouth was notorious amongst friends and colleges for never cursing— but you knew that ‘never’ was a stretch. in bed, steve rogers had one of the dirtiest mouths to date.

he brought his thumb to his mouth and licked it clean of your arousal. the sight made you tremble. it made you squeeze him from the inside— and he liked that. oh yes, he did.

you could smell him in the sheets. with your face buried into the bed, you could smell his cologne imbedded into the fabric. you could smell him. that musky, manly smell that was distinctly steve. it made your blood burn in your veins. it made you all the more sensitive as he fucked you from behind.

you let out a pitiful moan as he curled his fingers into your hair. you thought he was going to yank your hair back. instead, he kept you pinned below him. his thrusts were achingly precise. he hit every sweet spot you had. you nor any sex toy you owned could touch the places he managed to fuck himself into. you could feel his breath ghost the side of your face as he leaned down over you.

“m’ close.” he warned, nearly breathless.

sparks shot up your spine and cascaded down your inner thighs. you loved knowing you made him feel good enough to cum. you were the only woman who got his hips to tremble, his thighs to shake, his eyes to pinch, and his breath to crack in his throat as he uttered your name when he came.

“i want it,” you whimpered into the sheets.

he tugged your head back by your hair. your eyes were heavy but you managed to meet his crystalline gaze. “you want it? want it how?”

maybe he’d figured you’d say in your mouth. the lord knew you’d swallowed him countless times. maybe you’d’ve said you wanted him to shoot it on your back. on your tits.

but you didn’t say anything like that.

in a love-drunk haze you said, “inside me.”

his grip on your hair tightened and he tugged you further back. you were on your knees in front of him and he hoarded you back against his chest with his cock twitching inside you. he squeezed your cheeks between his fingers and made you look up at him.

“inside you?” he asked in a whisper.

you nodded your head. “mmm.”

steve huffed out of his nose like an impatient bull. with a firm nudge, you were once again face down on the mattress. you whimpered as he pulled out of you. you looked over your shoulder and watched him pull the condom off. it was all wet and slippery. it landed on the nightstand with an inaudible plop.

you braced yourself to feel him shove himself right back in. you buried your face into his pillow. your knuckles were white as you grasped ahold of the sheets. but there was nothing rough about what he did. not in the slightest.

a soft, delicate moan escaped you as he kissed up the length of your spine. his warm, rough hands slid around the curve of your waist and down over your thighs. you slipped down onto the mattress fully as he pressed you into it. you turned your head once more over your shoulder to meet his gaze and he was right there. his face flush, his lips parted, and his hair a damp mess in his face.

you reached back to touch his cheek and he met you halfway. he spread your legs with his thighs and settled in behind you. a sharp, whiny gasp escaped you as he slid in raw. he felt like hot velvet inside you. you could feel every vein in his dick and the soft, slitted tip as it pressed in inch after inch until it kissed your cervix.

“my god, babydoll…” he breathed. he pressed the side of his face against yours and wrapped his arms around you.

“steve,” you whimpered.

you’d never felt so close to him. it was the most blissful and overwhelming moment of your entire life as you felt him start to grind his hips into you. your eyes squeezed shut and you grasped his bicep for support. you felt like you were falling apart. you were coming undone at the seams.

and so was he.

he held you tighter. every rut of his hips into you had him moaning. he buried his face down into the crook of your neck and peppered reverent, messy kisses to your skin. his fingers kneaded into the flesh of your arms. he’d never felt more sensitive in his life. it was like the heat of you was shooting up through his dick and resonating in every cell of his body.

he came before he could even get the words out.

his moans were deep and breathless. his arms tightened around you. he pressed his hips into as close as he could, stuffing you full of himself as he came. you could feel each spurt of his pleasure drip out of him and pool inside of you.

for a long, breathless moment the two of you laid tangled up in a mess of limbs. his face stayed buried in your neck. yours rested lazily against his damp hair. you could feel his heart pounding against your back. his cock twitched within you as hot, sticky seed painted your walls white. it made you throb around him.

neither of you had to say it out loud.

you could feel it.

a weight settled over you.

slowly, steve pulled out and got off you. you laid there for a moment, afraid to breathe too loud. you couldn’t even bring yourself to look at him. you were just happy he laid down beside you and didn’t get up. he rubbed the heels of his palms into his eyes and pushed his hair out of his face.

“i’m going to take you up on that offer to shower with you.” steve said, letting out a heavier laugh than you were happy to hear. “can’t show up to the bar all sweaty, can we?”

that had definitely been a stupid mistake.

you forced a smile as you looked up at him. you shook your head. “definitely not.”

he gave the back of your head a soft caress and kissed your hair. “i’ll get it running.”

you nodded.

he got up and gave you one last little touch on your arm, trying to assure you that he didn’t feel awkward. but he did. you both did. you weren’t sure if ‘regret’ was the right word to label how you both felt, but it was something like that. you could see it in the way he rubbed the back of his neck as he left the room.

you didn’t join him in the shower.

and he didn’t call your name.

— ☆ ☆ ☆ —

it was a dive bar, yeah, but it was a staple amongst your friend group. you’d met sam through steve. you met natasha through steve. you met wanda through steve. all the cool, action-packed people in your life, you met through steve.

and yet he was the only one avoiding you at the bar.

this wasn’t about steve and the palpable tension between you both. it was about sam. it was his birthday and that is what mattered. you were here for a friend surrounded by all your friends. your friend sam. your friend nat. your friend wanda. your friend steve. friends, friends, friends.

you’d never hated being steve rogers friend.

but you did right now.

“are you alright?” natasha asked as she took a seat next to you at the bar. you were stabbing your straw into your drink, trying to spear one of the cherries at the bottom of the glass.

“huh?” you looked over at her and cracked a smile. it was genuine enough. “yeah, i’m okay. it was just a long day today. i’m kinda beat.”

“have you been wearing those blue-light glasses at the office? they help a lot when i have to stare at a screen for more than a few minutes.” natasha said.

you nodded. “they’re a big help, yeah. especially when i have a headache.” you nudged her and winked. “definitely one of the better christmas presents i got last year.”

“what can i say? i know you, babe.” natasha said with a cheeky smirk.

she did know you. too well. she knew that when you weren’t at steve’s side that something was up.

“roger’s already being a pain in your ass?” natasha asked. she spoke softer now, mindful that this wasn’t going to be a conversation you’d want overheard.

you huffed out a laugh out of your nose and shook you head. “nah. he’s never a pain in my ass. there’s nothing going on with him at the moment.”

there was too much going on with him.

nat pursed her lips. she didn’t believe you. she was smart not to, but she didn’t push. she just glanced over her shoulder to where steve and sam were playing darts with each other. wanda was keeping score for them. her money was on sam.

“he talked a lot about you when we were overseas.” natasha said.

you wished she hadn’t.

you sipped your drink. “mm?” it was an uninterested sound but, really, you wanted to know everything. well, not really. maybe? maybe you wanted to know?

no?

yes.

no.

yes?

“he does,” nat said, taking a sip of her beer. “he’s a bit hopeless. it’s kind of pathetic.”

you wanted to ask her to stop but some part of you — the same hopeless part you smothered in his presence — wanted to know more.

“what does he say?” you asked. you, too, turned to look towards him. he was focused on throwing darts.

“he misses you when he’s gone. it’s hard for him not to call you and check in on you. he gets real worried about you riding the train or walking late at night. he is always convinced you forget to lock your door. he doesn’t like that he can’t text you. when he sees a pretty sunset he’ll stop and admire it. it gets him real frustrated that he can’t take pictures and send them to you.”

“i mean for christ sake, the man carries a picture of the two of you in his wallet.” natasha said.

your heart was aching.

it was crumbling in your chest.

he was the sweetest man alive. he really, really was. so kind and gentle. so thoughtful. you knew the picture she was talking about. you’d done a photo booth together at a local pop-up fair. he kept one of the pictures in his wallet. you kept yours in your purse that you took everywhere, too.

it could’ve made you burst into tears in the middle of the dive bar to know that he was upset about what had happened. it had been stupid for him to take the condom off. it was stupid for you to say that you wanted him to.

it changed things.

it made things serious.

and things would be serious until your next period. neither of you had to say anything about that for it to be true. he was thinking it. you were thinking it.

dreading it.

you couldn’t even say it to yourself. you didn’t want to picture it. you wouldn’t let yourself. it felt too real. too personal. too intimate. you two were just friends. friends who called each other ‘baby’ and kissed the phone before hanging up. friends who kept a spare toothbrush over each others apartments. friends whose underwear was in the other one’s underwear drawer. friends who had sex.

friends who very possibly could have a baby.

you wanted to smash your head onto the bar.

“christ, did you two really get into a screaming match or something? i feel like a child of divorce.” natasha said. she shifted in her seat. you hadn’t realized how quiet you’d gotten— how intently you’d been looking at steve.

“no, we’re fine.” you said automatically. you looked at her and shook your head, as if that could convince her nothing was going on. “really, we’re fine. like i said, i’m just tired tonight.”

“tired? but the night is just beginning!” sam said as he came over to order himself another beer. he leaned against the bar and looked at you and nat. “now why are you two pretty gal’s sat all the way over here when we’re all the way over there?”

“you and steve both suck at darts. there’s nothing to watch.” natasha said, sipping her beer.

sam put a hand over his heart. “on my birthday?”

“the truth is my gift to you, wilson.” natasha said, tipping the brown beer bottle towards him.

“we were supposed to bring gifts?” steve asked as he came over. he, too, was looking for a refill.

“are you saying that not one of you brought me anything?” sam asked.

“my being here after working all day is gift enough.” you said as you leaned back against the bar. you were trying very hard not to look at steve. “i could be at home eating instant ramen and watching the devil wears prada for the sixth hundredth time.”

“girl,” sam sucked his teeth and rolled his eyes. “some fuckin’ friends you guys are.”

he smiled and shook his head, “i’m fuckin’ with you guys. ion need a damn thing. lord knows i got enough junk on my shelves to last me a life time.”

“then that’s my gift to you,” steve said. he patted sam on the back. “not buying you anything so that you don’t drown in junk.”

everyone shared in a bit of laughter. another round of beers were ordered. sam went back over to the dart board and nat followed suit to be with wanda. you were intently staring down into your drink as steve stood beside you. you felt like you couldn’t just leave him there while he waited for his drink. if you did, nat would really know something was up.

steve drummed his hands on the edge of the old wood. when the bartender gave him the whiskey he ordered, he downed it in one swig. the tension was thick between you. it was boiling over. and it hurt.

“are you going to ignore me all night?” he asked.

you nearly broke your neck looking up at him. “huh? me? you’re the one who hasn’t said two words to me since we got in the car.”

“you didn’t shower with me.” steve said, his brow pinching together. frustration or annoyance, you weren’t entirely sure.

“i—” you hesitated because your face got hot. the color red filled your cheeks and it became much harder to look at him. “so?”

“so after what happened, i figured you not wanting to shower with me was your way of telling me that you weren’t all that happy about what we did.” steve said.

“are you happy about it?” you fired back. deflected, was more like it. you didn’t want to admit how you felt about it until he did.

steve tensed. he stood up straighter and cleared his throat. “it’s not that i’m not happy. i just…i’m worried about what’s going to happen now.”

“if you’re that freaked out about a baby i’ll take a morning after pill.” you said almost bitterly.

“a baby?” steve repeated. his brows raised and he looked down at you, a bit bewildered. “you think i’m worried about a baby?”

you suddenly felt stupid. your face flushed all the more and your shoulders rose to your ears. “yeah?”

steve shook his head. he sighed a placed his hand on your shoulder. he gave it a gentle squeeze. “i’m not worried about a baby, hon. i don’t even think i can have kids. i can’t even get drunk.”

“i’m worried something like that was…too much…” steve said. he tipped his head almost anxiously. “that it’s going to scare you off and you won’t want to see me anymore.”

won’t want to see him anymore.

your heart didn’t just skip a beat. it stopped in your chest completely. see him? you knew what that meant. especially to an old fart like him. but you weren’t sure if he meant it the way he had said it.

“see you?” you asked in a whisper.

steve was the one to flush a bit. he shifted, nervous as could be. “yeah. i’m worried you won’t want to…yknow…keep things the way they are between us.”

you felt those words hit somewhere a bit too tender. a bit too sore. too hurt.

he wanted to stay the way you were?

as friends.

you felt hot all over. not in a good way. not in the way he made you feel when he aroused you or flustered you. you felt hot with embarrassment. it all came back and hit you in the face— the fact that you had been sleeping with him while crushing so terribly on him. you were a fucking fool.

“what?” he asked softly. he saw your face sour. worse, he saw it crumble.

“nothing.” you muttered. you looked away because you knew you were going to cry. you regretted those two drinks and you regretted not eating more before you came. the worst thing to be right now was tipsy.

and you were tipsy.

“what’d i say, babydoll?” steve asked, tucking a finger under your chin. he made you look at him. “what hurt your feelings?”

“i hurt my own feelings.” you said, nudging his hand away. you got up from the stool. you weren’t sure where you were going yet but you knew it wanted to be as far away from him right now as you could be.

“hey, hey, hey.” steve said, grabbing your waist to keep you close. to keep you steady on your feet.

“i’m fine,” you huffed. you tried to shrug him off but he was as stubborn as you.

“sit back down, hon. let’s get some water in you.” steve said. he glanced over at the bartender. “can i get a water?”

“i don’t need water.” you grumbled.

“sit.” steve muttered, giving your arm a firm squeeze.

you sat back down on the stool but not without glaring up at him. he had the same heated, frustrated look on his face, too. he pushed the cup of water into your hands and said, “drink. now.”

you huffed out of your nose. you took the water and looked away as you sipped it down. you didn’t stop until it was gone. you pushed the cup back into his chest when it was empty.

“happy now?” you asked.

steve put the cup down a bit too hard on the bar. it made the girls beside the two of you jump. he didn’t bother to shoot them a sorry smile. he was too busy feeling frustration coil in his gut. it worsened when he saw the way your friends were watching the two of you argue.

“get up.” steve said.

you scoffed at him. “you just told me to sit.”

“and now i’m telling you to get up.” steve tugged your arm. “let’s go. up.”

you didn’t argue. you got up and let him lead you outside. he walked you towards the parking lot, away from the bouncer by the door and the line of people smoking outside.

“out with it.” steve demanded.

you shook your head, “out with what?”

“don’t play dumb. you know what i’m talking about.” steve said, his patience wearing thinner and thinner.

you bit your lip. you didn’t want to do this here. you didn’t want to confess you wanted more outside a dive bar when you weren’t fully sober. but maybe it was for the best it came out this way.

“you’re right.” you said. your breath fogged. it was cold tonight. it had rained before you got to the bar and everything was still wet. the air was nipping at you through your clothes. “i don’t want things to stay the way they are between us.”

steve’s throat bobbed. he looked down at you, his brows furrowing. “what do you mean?”

“i mean that i don’t want to just be a friend you have sex with anymore.” you said. you curled your hands into fist, gathering every ounce of bravery you had in you. “i want…i want to be like…like a girlfriend you have sex with.”

steve’s lips twitched at the corners. “like a girlfriend? what does that mean?”

“it means i want to be more than your friend.” you said, your face getting red. the urge to cry was building up more and more, too.

“you are more than my friend.” steve said.

you reared back like he’d threatened to taser you.

he cringed at himself. he knew that wasn’t really a good way to say it. ‘you’re already more than a friend to me, but i just haven’t made it anything more.’

“look,” steve stepped closer to you and shook his head. “i’ve definitely dropped the ball on the whole dating thing. i know i have. i dug myself into a hole here and i’m sorry. its not that i’ve gotten too comfortable with how things are and i’m trying to abuse the fact that you — very generously, i’ll add — like to sleep with me without there being anything more. that’s not what’s happening.”

“what’s happening is that i’m a moron. i’ve been afraid that if i brought up wanting to date you officially that you’d…you’d skip out on me.” steve said, looking away from you. he rubbed the back of his neck. “it’s bullshit to use the excuse that i’m from a different era, but it’s true. guys back in my day were lucky if a girl even kissed a love letter she wrote him and left a lipstick stain for him.”

“one of the two women i’ve loved in my very long-but-not-long life is now dying of old age in a hospice center while im hardly older than i was the last time she saw me.” he sighed and ran his hands through his hair. he looked down at you and shook his head. “babydoll, i should have asked you to be my girl outright the moment i kissed ya.”

you felt the kind of sparks someone should only feel being kissed for the first time when he said that.

“you…you love me?” you asked softly. you were trembling a bit. it was cold. yet your cheeks were burning up so much you were surprised they weren’t steaming.

“oh, angel-face…” steve shrugged off his leather jacket and put it around you. he zipped it up and shook his head reverently. “‘course i love you. how could i not love ya, baby? i tell you all the time you’re the only god damn thing in my life that makes the world make sense for me.”

“if i didn’t have you, i’d be in a lab somewhere building a time machine to try to get back to the 40’s.” steve laughed. he tucked a finger under your chin and thumbed your bottom lip. “with my luck, i’d get blasted all the way back to the dinosaurs. but at least i’d be the youngest thing there for a change.”

you couldn’t help but laugh.

nat was right.

he was hopeless.

he was a hopeless god damn fool and you loved him all the more for it. he had you wrapped around his finger and he didn’t even know it.

“for such a smart man, you haven’t got a clue on how to read a woman…” you said, sliding your arms up his chest.

clearly, you were right because he seemed surprised when you wrapped your arms around his neck. he placed his hands on your waist and rubbed the dips of your curves. “i never claimed to be smart.”

“you claimed to love me though.” you said with a cheeky smile. you wanted to hear him say it again.

“mm,” he purred. he pulled you in closer and dipped his head down. “i do love you, babydoll.”

“i love you, too.” you confessed.

he grinned into the kiss he placed on your lips that tasted of whiskey and smelled like leather.

— ☆ ☆ ☆ —

leather had always reminded you of steve rogers. the smell of it. the feel of it. but now, there wasn’t just one thing that reminded you of him. there were so many things.

you were reminded of him when you saw christmas trees adorned with white, twinkling lights. sure, the crackle and pop of fireworks reminded you of him still, but so did rice krispy treats. you could feel him when you sat in front of warm fireplaces. you pictured him when you smelled baby formula and saw mugs that said ‘best dad in the world’.

nothing reminded you of him more than watching the little stinker you made together grow.

“alright, buck, eye on the ball.” steve said, clapping his hands as the two of you leaned against the fence that wrapped around the baseball field. you were right by first base.

tee-ball was now a major event in not only your lives, but your friends lives, too. the dive bars were hardly ever visited. instead, every saturday your buddies met here to cheer on james. sitting on the bleachers behind you and steve, natasha and sam were holding up a ‘GO NUMBER SEVEN’ sign for james.

your four year old tipped his head up to be able to see better. the helmet he wore was too big for his blonde little head. he wound the bat back and smacked the ball straight off the tee. it bounced through the dirt and plopped right into the grass behind second base.

your son stood there for a moment just staring at the ball like all the other kids on the field.

“run, buddy, run!” steve exclaimed, setting the game back in motion.

james dropped the bat and ran as fast as his little legs could carry him towards first base. when he got there — huffing and puffing like he’d run a marathon — he turned towards you both. he put his thumb up and gave you the brightest little smile.

“did you see me, mama? did you see me run real fast?” james asked, jumping around the base, too excited to gloat to care about the game around him.

“i saw you. you were so super fast!.” you giggled. he was so stinkin’ cute in his little baseball uniform and that big helmet. it smooshed his bangs down onto his flushed face.

“dad, did ya see how far i smacked it?” james asked, pushing at the helmet to be able to see you both.

“you nearly cracked it out of the park, buck!” steve said, throwing his hands up. “you’re going to be the best batter brooklyn’s ever seen at this rate, pal.”

james smiled all the more and bounced on the base. truthfully, he was no where close to getting it past the fence, but you nor your husband were going to dampen his parade. the smile on his face was too damn precious to soil it.

brown leather jackets would always remind you of steve, but that excited, bright-eyed boy on first base getting ready to run to second reminded you of something that made your world go round.

how much steve loved you.

and how much you loved him, too.

wow my first steve oneshot to break my tumblr writers block!!! yay!!! it’s a big day for annoying people like us, huh? lol. i hope you enjoyed! hopefully my burnout is gone and there will be more from me soon. as always, a very big thank you for reading <3 xoxo!!!

#steve rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers one shot #captain america #captain america fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #mrderofcr0ws

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