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anika-ann · 4 months ago

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Back and Forth - Epilogue pt.2

Epilogue 2/2 - Always Forward

Type: series; agent!reader, inhuman!reader

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader Word Count: 7200

Chapter summary: In which you’re settling into a new normal… and something beautiful might be blossoming between you and Steve, even as your past experience is holding you back.

Series masterlist

Warnings:mild allusions to smut so NSFW and 18+ to be safe; issues of self-worth, self-doubt, allusions to a panic attack, mentions of therapy, mention of past injuries, Spectre needing a hug and Steve giving us unrealistic expectations for men, language, tooth-rotting fluff

A/N: ALWAYS MIND THE WARNINGS; dividers by @firefly-graphics 💕; moodboard is for the vibes and does not necessarily reflect reader’s appearance

A/N2: It's a wrap! Mostly anyway. I know not any people still care for this story, so all my gratitude to those who do 💕 Thank you for your love for Steve and Spectre - and enjoy 💕

“I have to cancel the date.”

The words left your lips about half a second after Daisy had picked up the phone with a cheery ‘what’s up?’, frantic and panicked, but no less true.

You had to cancel the date.

There was nothing rational about that decision, you were aware.

You were excited, you had gone over how Steve was the epitome of perfection with just hints of imperfections which he let you see because he was just that kind of perfect, how he was gentle and true and wore his heart on his sleeve and flirted with you in ways that should be illegal and were prove enough that he wanted you, the way you touched, a gentle whisper of affection--- you recalled all this with painful and tingling clarity and rationally you knew it was just the right time to move forward and that if you chickened out of the date you had both been waiting and building towards for for so long, you’d regret it and you might never get another shot.

And still, you knew it deep in your core, with an ugly acute feeling of all-consuming dread: you had to call the dinner off.

“What are you even--- wait, you have a date?! With Steve?!” Daisy nearly screeched at the other end of the line and you bit down on your painted lower lip, eyes squeezing shut at the inevitable storm coming. Or perhaps, an incoming earthquake; har fucking har.

Daisy’s surprise was anything but unexpected; because you not having told her about Steve having asked you out until this very moment had been entirely intentional.

You hadn’t told her, because she would have assured you to no end that it was the best possible thing that could happen. And with that, your gut feeling would get all confused and you’d actually believe her. Now, your gut feeling – fighting fiercely the wild butterflies in your stomach at the memory of sparing with Steve, the memory of the light in his eyes, him catching you, your lips pressing to his cheek – was telling you the truth in a warning. That you needed to back off and stay friends with Steve, because otherwise you’d lose him.

He'd be kind if you changed your mind. He had said so; and if there was one thing Steve Rogers was, it was heart-wrenchingly kind and understanding.

Except he wouldn’t be, not this time, a sleazy voice whispered in the back of your head, causing the hairs at the back of your neck stand in cold horror. This time, his hurt and disappointment would be so profound he’d leave and you’d lose him. And on the other hand, if you went out with him, you would start your journey to the inevitable heartbreak and parting ways with him, because you were bound to mess up eventually.

What a beautiful apocalyptic catch-22.

It was almost funny and a part of you laughed sardonically at you having lost sight of what truly mattered, your career stepping down on the priority list enough to have you suddenly consider something as banal as losing a boy’s interest a catastrophic event; then again, Steve Rogers was quite an extraordinary ‘boy’.

He was the best damn man you had ever met, a walking green flag. And that was the very problem.

You had fallen for him, hard – that much was an undeniable fact. He seemed to like you too. And what you two had was absolutely wonderful; you had never connected with another human being at such level, be it level of trust or of affection. You were terrified to speak the L word, but you were agonizingly aware that it was what it was for you. What Steve was to you.

And if it was, somehow, the same for him, if you took that step into trying to build a romantic relationship, there was no coming back.

And since you were faithfully bound to fucking up somehow, it would perhaps – definitely – be better to stay friends.

These flirty friends, who had sparks of want in their eyes, touched awfully lot, lit alive at the slightest brush of his fingers on your skin, your dizzy mind creating images of his large hands gripping your thighs as his tongue would trail up to his sweet prize, long thick fingers entering you, hot breath fanning over your ear as his hands would hold you steady on your shaky legs threatening to give out with every time he’d thrust inside you, so deep your fingers could have never made the lust-filled dreams any justice as you muffled your cries into the pillow at night, needy and ashamed all the same, because Steve had been patient and you lusted after him like a horny teenager.

But you liked it this way. This way was solid.

Moving further was balancing on that ledge hundred stories high and leaning towards the void just to tempt fate.

Before Steve, you used to be safe. You used to be safe within the impenetrable walls, so meticulously built; and the worst thing was that Steve Rogers hadn’t bulldozered through those walls, no. He took them away slowly, patiently removing brick by brick, not leaving as much as rubble behind for you to desperately try to pick up and rebuilt them before it was too late. The only wall left was the one you were balancing on top of, the highest of them all.

And you were going to fall to your death.

The loud cry of your name made you flinch, tugging you back to reality where Daisy sighed, once more lamenting you hadn’t bothered to share the exciting news of Steve officially asking you out after you two had danced around each other for god-knew-how-many weeks now.

“He… he only asked me three days ago…” you muttered, cursing yourself for letting the few tears spill over, ruining your make-up which you put ridiculous amount of thought into, because you wished you looked beautiful to him, but not like you were trying too hard.

Not that it mattered; because you were about to cancel your date anyway.

Maybe you should say you were sick? No, that was stupid. Steve had seen you just fine maybe three hours ago and he could always ask FRIDAY.

“Well, I suppose I can forgive you for hoarding the information,” Daisy sighed again. “But there is no way you are cancelling that date. Why on Earth would you do that?��

Because! You wanted to cry out and stomp your foot, like a petulant child you might actually be.

But even petulant children had friends; someone they could trust and rely on.

“Because… everything could go wrong.”

“Like what?--- No, wait, don’t answer that. Let me speak. And stop pacing, sit down on your ass and listen,” Daisy said, the firmness in her voice actually making you freeze mid-step, brief horror at how well she knew you striking you and for a moment, quieting the raging sea of emotion in your chest.

“Spectre, honey, I think you are panicking and you might have a reason to, but you actually don’t.”

You opened you mouth to contradict her, trying to gather your thoughts enough to speak few words to make her understand, but she was faster.

“Uh-huh, nope, I’m talking. With all the love I have for you, I gotta say that if you called me two months ago like this, I would be the one panicking, thinking someone died,” Daisy said matter-of-factly, bewilderment and guilt biting at your gut. Some friend you were, if that was how she felt. “Do not take this as an insult or an opportunity to beat yourself over that, that is so not the point I’m making. My point is that you call me. Almost on the regular. We text. You’re less guarded, you sound the happiest I have ever seen and heard you, truly happy, and you’re--- I’m sorry, but you glow when you talk about Steve. He’s good for you, he’s good to you and he’s exactly what you deserve in a man.”

You gulped, listening intently against your best judgement – because this was exactly why you hadn’t told Daisy before, because she would put all these ideas in your head, about how… you needed to grip this chance and never let go, because this could be something beautiful and Steve hadn’t given you a single reason to be afraid.

She was right, of course – but that was part of the problem.

You cleared your throat, blindly and carefully sweeping away the rivers of tears that had run down your cheeks.

“That’s the problem, Daisy. I don’t want to fuck this up. Steve is… everything and we are so good like this. We-“

“No, wait one more second. I’m gonna take a guess, okay? One teeny tiny guess, ‘cause I live to gamble. I think that whether you realize it or not, you still doubt he likes you. That he could love you – and believe me, you are wrong, because from what I heard and saw, that guy had it bad for you for a while,” she hummed, and you could hear the smug satisfied half-grin that had formed on her lips, “but my point is, another part of you is very much aware of his feelings.”

“I-“

“Because you see people. You have to, because that’s how you stay alive. That’s how we stay alive. We have shitty pasts behind us, Spectre. We do. We have these… mental scars or whatever, shit we carry with us, and we were taught the hard way not to trust, let alone to believe that someone genuinely cares. I love you, but you even more than me-“

“You never seemed to have any problems with this,” you argued. “You care, you open your heart so easily, always have, Coulson even said so-“

“Well that’s not entirely true and is not the point. My point is, that you don’t trust and open up easily, but you did it for Steve. And you chose pretty well. I mean… you have the epitome of justice and virtue to trust, talk about bagging the real prize.”

You couldn’t but snort through your tears, Daisy’s wittiness and ability to weave the truth into hilarious string of words getting to you, deflating the enormous weight sitting on your chest.

“But finally, what I wanna say is that… the fact you call me, you called me now, that you’re letting your guard down, for him the most, I believe… it’s because you know. There’s a part of you, very clever part, that recognizes and believes that he is in love with you too and that’s why you can afford to trust him and you just wanted to hear it from me, because you know that part is right. And that part knows that if you let him, he’s going to show you just how much.”

In the stunned silence that followed, your mind whirled wildly, irrationally circling around the thought of whether Daisy meant how much you could trust Steve or how much he… loved you.

Why was your ribcage suddenly so full and so light at once, your heart racing like mad and dancing like the spots in front of your eyes--- breathe, dammit.

You did. In and out. Then again. As your chest rose and fell shakily, Daisy’s voice sounded as if you were submerged and her voice was just above the water surface.

“You okay there, Champ?”

You burst into a watery laughter, your hand flying over your mouth to muffle the godawful sound.

“Yeah, no. I’m… Daisy, he’s so---- I guess I…” you trailed off, the realization of just how truthful her words were causing your hands to tremble and nearly drop your damn phone.

You.

An agent of S.H.I.E.L.D.

An ally to the Avengers.

Folding like a house of cards because of a date and because a guy might like her.

God, you were pathetic--

But Steve Rogers sure was worthy of being pathetic for.

And being brave for.

But how much bravery could you truly muster up?

“You’re right. I… I should go and get my shit together before he arrives. If the date goes wrong, well, I can just-“

-die, move to another country, or another planet, just disappear, become but a ghost-

“-oh my god. I should project.”

“…what?”

You laughed, the idea completely absurd but also rather brilliant, a shot of relief and fresh panic into your veins.

“I mean, it’s not a long-term solution, but if I project to our date, then I can snap back if something goes wrong-“

“NO. Spectre, no. You are not letting your spectre go on the date instead of you-“ Daisy all but spitted out, so clearly mad and disappointed and perhaps just a tad amused that you couldn’t but instantly discard the idea which you weren’t sure you had been seriously considering in the first place.

“But--- yeah, okay, I know. It’s just… I’m really… embarrassingly worried,” you whined at last, an absurdly sweet coo sounding at the other end of the line in response, making you roll your eyes and snort.

God bless Daisy, she really was one of the best humans and Inhumans walking the Earth.

There was a lot of feelings stuffed into your tight ribcage, most of them concerning Steve Rogers, but there was an undeniable large part that was overflowing with love for your friend.

“Thank you, Daisy. Really. I… I’m sorry I-“

“If you plan to finish that sentence with ‘bothered you’, I’m gonna send an earthquake your way,” she threatened.

You snapped your mouth shut, biting your tongue hard enough for it to actually hurt, even as some distant part of your brain cheered at the idea, because well, an earthquake surely would be a valid excuse to cancel—

But suddenly, for all the mess in your head, you felt such a sharp pang in your chest at the prospect of not seeing Steve, potentially not kissing Steve, not to bask in his warmth and proximity and the light of his smile and brilliantly cerulean irises with the most adorable speckle of green-- that you knew there was no doubt left that you might actually die unless you did go to the dinner.

You gulped.

“--I’m sorry I stole your time and didn’t tell you earlier,” you said instead, earning a hum.

“Uh huh. Good. Now off you go. Make him fall on his glorious ass when he sees you, doll, and make out with him against door. And please, do everything I would do and more. See you!” Daisy cheered, ending the call before you could retort, causing you chuckle breathlessly, glancing towards the ceiling and taking a deep steadying breath.

Your nerves were still buzzing, but when you StarkWatch did, announcing that you had last two minutes before the designated date time, you jumped to your feet and rushed to the bathroom to assess the damage. You barely made it there when a knock sounded from the door, making you curse in such an unladylike manner that Steve might actually call off the date if he heard you.

Ignoring it despite everything inside you pulling you towards the door, you glanced into the mirror, realizing two fundamental facts:

One, your make-up held admiringly well despite your tears, because you had had a hunch you might cry and had used water-proof products and thus you didn’t need to fix anything.

Two, the one thing that needed fixing you had no chance to remedy; the red of your teary eyes. There was no universe in which Steve wouldn’t notice that.

And if he’d notice, he’d want to know.

And if he’d look at you the way he excelled at, that soft caring inquiring gaze that should be listed as an illegal interrogation technique right next to if not above waterboarding, you’d fold and spill your heart and inevitably chase him away-

Another knock, still gentle, but louder this time.

You whined, hands curling into fists tight enough to leave blood-red moons in your palms and headed towards the door, ironically unable to supress the fluttery feeling in your stomach as you released the tension in your hands in order to smoothen your dress and fluff up your hair.

The giddy feeling only grew exponentially as you threw the door open, your pulse skyrocketing through the roof despite the roof being over twenty stories higher.

Two things welcomed you; a gentle smile threaded with genuine excitement and a bouquet of tulips of various colours with soft tones of baby breath weaved through.

It was perfect; Steve was perfect.

And you’d swear, like many times before in secret, that he was the most handsome man in the whole universe.

However, as you allowed yourself look him over for a while, appreciating his casually fluffed up hair, the width of his shoulders and the lovely blue button-up almost hidden by the large bouquet, the well-fitting black slacks and shiny shoes, your gaze lingering on its way back up, his warm smile had already slipped, replaced by concerned gaze with the slightest hints of panic.

“What happened?”

“Nothing!” you blurted out, stepping to side to let him in, mentally counting to three for two different reasons.

One, to keep your tears at bay for at least a while longer despite the gentle inquiry in Steve’s eye. Two, to still your rapidly beating heart which nearly gave out at Steve’s words, because they might as well be a battle cry, a who hurt you and who do I need to kill written between the lines.

In a very Steve Rogers fashion, he responded to your silent invite and walked in.

And in a very Steve Rogers fashion, he did not let you off the hook easily.

Not that you blamed him; you did not sound convincing even to your ears.

“Nothing you need to worry about,” you elaborated, not having to force the smile to your lips as you met his gaze. “Nothing serious. I swear.”

“Alright…” He eyed you, still suspicious and cautious, probably because of the number of times you said the word ‘nothing’. “But if you’d rather postpone… or cancel-“

“No, not at all-“

“Or if you just want to stay in and order take-out, or cook together… or I could cook. I got groceries delivered just in case.”

“Oh?”

Your voice rose at least an octave, your hand slamming the door behind him with a little too much force.

Hysteria and self-loathing crept in like first days of winter, digging its icy claws into your stomach, effectively stunning the butterflies having been fluttering its wings there, only sinking deeper as Steve’s gaze flickered to the violently slammed door and back to your face, his eyes searching now, worried.

Of course they were; of course he was.

Of course he had had groceries delivered just in case.

Of fucking course.

Tears of humiliation stung in your eyes, but you didn’t have the heart nor the energy to be angry with him for the remark or his actions.

Just ashamed.

Or maybe a little angry too.

The rest of the statement, ‘just in case you freaked out’ was so clearly audible even if left unsaid that you wanted to tuck yourself into bed and never leave.

Hearing those words cut so damn deep – but could you really blame Steve for already knowing you so well? Could you really blame him for thinking you were an idiot, a nervous wreck of a weakling, who couldn’t even handle going out with him, when he was apparently right?

Could you really blame him for being such a sweetheart to have been prepared for that scenario?

In some ways, it was so damn thoughtful of him; and yet, it burned down your throat like a shot of absinth. It hurt like being shot through both thighs; you’d know.

And you were being ungrateful, you were aware of as much. You were being such an ungrateful bitch, for despising him for that assumption, as right as it was, and for despising Daisy for giving you hope--- because yes, maybe Steve was on his way to love you.

But he didn’t love you right.

You should be so thankful that he was so considerate and patient, but the idea of him seeing you like nothing a pathetic thing to handle in satin gloves only, a thing so fragile it might break if someone breathed on it, made you sick to your stomach with utter disappointment. In him. In you. In that stupid thing called love.

But could you really blame anyone else but yourself? Could you-

“Yeah, well,” Steve muttered, a tinge of pink in hischeeks as he shrugged, gently pulling your focus back to him. “Our job is the way it is. If the reservation fell through because of an emergency meeting or a mission making us late, if either of us had to act as a substitute agent, if anyone needed back-up… I wanted to have a plan B. That is if that were enough for you.”

Your head snapped up, your rapidly spiralling mind coming to a screeching halt, the claws in your gut digging deeper and tearing; until they finally released you.

Oh.

Oh my god.

You were such an idiot.

Indeed, a pathetic, hopeless case of an idiot and you knew, you knew you should have known better, should have tried to cut off the spiral of self-conscious thought right at the start using one of the many techniques you had been taught in therapy, but you hadn’t and you had misread it all, again.

Steve did not think you were pathetic; you were actually aware of that. Steve had, in fact, told you were the furthest thing from that, even as you had broken down in front of him at a damn animal shelter of all places.

He was just being practical. And thoughtful. Again.

Of course he fucking was. Brilliant, brilliant, kind Steve, who looked at you as if he’d do anything to make this work, because you mattered that much to him.

Mattered enough for him to put together a back-up plan just in case, if it were enough for you; and meanwhile all you had done was to call your friend to cry on her shoulder and jumped to conclusions when Steve showed up his marvellous strategizing tendencies.

What that said about your momentary problem-solving skills you did not want to think about, mainly because you could not afford to mess this up any more than it already was and so you were trying to stop yourself from spiralling, rather than jump deeper down the vortex of anxiety and self-loathing.

You repeated your brilliant response.

“Oh.”

“It’s still an option even if you’d rather just stay in,” Steve continued, seemingly oblivious to your inner turmoil. “I made a reservation for a room so we wouldn’t have anyone staring, but… if you’d rather not go out, that’s fine.”

That’s fine, he said.

It was not.

Because now you felt like a real idiot.

“No! I mean… it would be a shame for the reservation to go to waste!” It would be a shame if your brilliant planning which counted in just about every variable was ruined just because- “I’m just a ginormous-”

You swallowed the curse upon something flashing in Steve’s eye, gulping instead; and sighing so deeply that your soul might have actually left your body.

Closing your eyes, you took a steadying breath, feeling your fingers twitch as you resisted the urge to dig your nails into your palms again. Breathe. In. Hold. Out. Hold. In…

You released the air from your lungs slowly, gaze finding Steve’s as he watched you with cautious warmth, the tulips still in his hand, hauled to one side as his free hand was limply by his side; limply except for the tight fist, attracting your gaze like a magnet, the prove of his own nerves; an oasis in the lonely desert of anxiety.

He, too, wasn’t at ease, for whichever reason. That was almost as important as the fact that you knew in your gut and heart alike that the source of the unease wasn’t you – not in the sense that would result in your heartbreak, even as the wicked voices of your past whispered about the opposite.

Do not apologize for your shortcoming stemming from your trauma unless completely necessary. Thank people for accepting them, accepting you as you are, you reminded yourself, even as you quite literally had to bite your tongue to keep the automatic apology unspoken.

You forced your gaze to return to Steve’s face, a smile, however small and shy, spreading on your lips with little effort.

“I--- thank you. For being thoughtful. I… really appreciate it,” you said, a lopsided smile mirroring your own in size curling Steve’s lips sweetly. “I know this sounds silly, but… can we maybe start this over? I mean… I don’t mean---- you know what, forget-“

Steve stepped forward so fast you startled, drawing in a quick breath and silencing your doubts in an instant. As the flowers were suddenly the only thing putting distance between you, you had to crane your neck slightly as to hold his gaze, a soft greeting on his lips.

“Hi.”

He smiled wider, eyes roaming over you warmly and appreciatively, as if he was only truly seeing you in your outfit and make-up for the first time tonight and was not at all being subtle about liking what he was seeing. Your heart picked up its pace and seared all at once, heat rushing up your cheeks.

“You look beautiful. These are for you.”

You accepted the flowers with a shaky smile, a tingle rushing through your nerves as Steve’s fingers brushed yours.

“Thank you. They’re gorgeous… and you look very handsome. Blue always suits you,” you said, smile widening at the pleased spark in Steve’s eye, lightning all the more as you carefully stood on your tiptoes and pressed the briefest kiss to his cheek. “Thank you for giving me this. And for having a back-up plan.”

One corner of his lips rose higher.

“Well, they did use to call me a man with a plan… I might have not liked it, but that doesn’t mean they got it wrong. Can’t have an emergency get in the way if this might be my only shot to win over a girl like you. … a woman like you.”

The slip of his tongue felt like a caress – it was as if the simple gesture of a kiss to his cheek affected him and he really, really cared about all this. About you.

And that felt good.

It felt right.

“It wouldn’t have been,” you replied, all your willpower poured into turning away from Steve and moving to the counter to put the bouquet to a large glass since you had never had a need for a vase before. “Shall we?”

Steve nodded, almost absently as he watched your every move, including the steps you took back to him, way too close; but you couldn’t help it. With your nerves settled just a bit, with his large yet soothing presence washing over you like a gentle tidal wave, you felt yourself being pulled into his orbit, never feeling close enough.

“We shall… but are you sure you want to go to the resta-“

“Are you trying to shoot yourself in the foot here, Steve?” you teased him lightly, as if you hadn’t been doing exactly that ever since before you had talked to Daisy and cried in the process. “I’d love to go out. I…”

Steve tilted his head slightly, his intent gaze seeing straight into your soul; and making it feel like there was nothing wrong with it, because he didn’t see anything wrong. He only wished to understand; and you’d let him, because he wouldn’t judge. He never did. Not when it was you.

You felt your shoulders relax, your smile growing genuine.

“I’m just really nervous, that’s all. I promise.”

“So am I,” he said.

And you would have questioned it. Months ago, you would have called bull.

But months ago, you also forbade yourself from looking. From seeing the vulnerability behind Steve’s gaze, the barely audible but undeniably present pain of an old wound.

It dawned to you just how profound his truth behind his statement about this being the only chance he’d get with you had been.

How it wasn’t just about you giving him that chance; it was the circumstance too.

Two feet from you stood a man who once allowed himself to believe he might get a happy ending, the second great war at the brink of an end, only to miss out on seventy years of potential happiness.

And he stood there with his heart on his sleeve, hopes in his soul and a brilliant mind that left nothing to chance; he stood there and was offering all of that to you.

The tears stinging in your eyes had nothing to do with your stupid tendencies this time. The tender ache in your heart had nothing to do with messed up pasts and had everything to do with admiration and affection and faith.

Your hands twitched with the urge to grab Steve’s gorgeous face and kiss him so deep you’d pour all the love undeniably thrumming in your heart into his very being and make him feel it in his very bones.

You took a shuddery breath, your smile a little broken at its edges; but the sheer determination to make this, whatever this thing with Steve could be, work, was all-consuming, even as it stood on a shaky ground of your own insecurities.

“Well, you’re handling it about million times better than I do,” you whispered, less humour than you’d wish in your words.

Steve mirrored your smile, hand twitching just a bit as if just he understood you heard the unspoken words behind his admission; and yet, he shrugged as if he wasn’t tossing away the weight of missed chances.

“Thanks, but I feel like Bucky would disagree, seeing me ordering groceries for three different meals just in case and looking up language of flowers in respective colours.”

There was beautiful, irresistible tinge of pink in his cheeks and your heart raced, something in your mind whispering of showing him yours since he’d showed you his. That or really just going for it and kissing him senseless.

“Still so much better than me. I… I do have a history of shooting myself in the foot… figuratively. Case on point,” you chucked self-deprecatingly as you gestured vaguely to your slightly red eyes in ways of explanation, Steve’s gaze turning impossibly soft. “And I know you said no pressure, but…”

“Hey, I meant it. Still do,” he whispered, taking half a step closer.

The woodsy notes of his cologne tickled your nostrils, warmth spreading all over your skin, feet twitching to erase the last distance and if not kiss him, then at least hold him; or let yourself be held in his ever-inviting embrace.

“I know. That’s… part of the problem, actually.” His eyebrow arched slightly, prompting you to explain. “I believe you. I trust you. I know how banal that sounds, but it’s not. And it’s one of the reasons why everything in me screams yes pressure. I just… really, really don’t want to mess this up, Steve. Because, well… this could be myonly shot with a guy like you.”

You could almost hear the wheels in his head whirling madly as you echoed his earlier words, processing your shy admission; but the one thing that appeared in his expressions almost, almost seemed like pride. Honour, even.

And a smile. Such a soft, soft smile as his hand carefully grasped yours.

“It wouldn’t have been,” he echoed your earlier words. “But… is there anything I can do to make it easier? More comfortable?”

You huffed a breathless laugh despite yourself as a single tear spilled over, a tight-lipped smile the only thing stopping you from shouting at heavens. Truly, you could kiss Steve for such sweet offer, except you also wanted to smack him a bit, because how was this man real?

He squeezed your hand reassuringly even in the face of your apparent insanity.

“A bit of a catch 22, Steve. You offering to make it better is… sweet and making it worse all at once. As in… yes pressure.”

“Right… should I act like a jerk, then?” he offered light-heartedly. “I mean, I have it on good authority I can be one-”

You laughed again, something in your chest humming with uncontainable warmth and light. “Oh I heard about that. I can attest to that.”

His smile widened, teasing and so painfully beautiful that you felt your heart spasm in your chest – the conversation putting you further on edge as well as offering comfort. It was a strange duality to wrap your head around; much like with just about everything when it came to Steve.

Pressured and freer to be and feel than you had ever felt; a terrifying step you couldn’t wait to make; wishing to jump off the ledge just to feel the exhilaration of a free fall and fumbling with the parachute before the severity of the impact Steve had on your life could kill you.

So was there something that could silence the anxious part of the duality for just a moment, just so you didn’t sabotage something beautiful before it could start? Before you’d repay Steve’s sincerity and vulnerability with shutting yourself off?

Held in the soft bonds of his cerulean gaze, his gentle hand still keeping yours, less than two feet apart, so close you could feel gravity pulling you towards him, it took a shocking amount of willpower not to grasp his other hand and bring it to your lips to show your appreciation, not to place it on your cheek just so you could cradle his, stand on your tiptoes and press your lips to his, something you had been longing to do for what might as well be an eternity and half.

You might drop dead right here if you spent another minute without learning how soft his lips were, without tasting that sunshine-like smile. Without gifting yourself one single undeniable proof that this truly was right a proof beyond your foolish heart or Daisy’s words or Steve’s proximity.

Eyes raking over him again, over the sharp cut of his jaw, the slope of his nose, the gentle light in his eyes – an artist and a piece of art in one – the idea took you by surprise; insane, brilliant and absurd. And yet…

“I… there is actually something,” you said, the words alone having your heart startle in your ribcage, much like the two tiny steps you took to stand chest to chest with him, feeling the heat radiating off of his large body.

“Name it.”

You could tell his brain was racing, having probably come to the conclusion that you were about to ask for a hug if his sweet but pressure-free smile was anything to go by, his encouraging squeeze to your hand.

God if he only knew.

You took a steadying breath, only resulting in your heart stumbling further, a breathless whisper on your parted lips.

“’Kay.”

Acting before you could change your mind, you placed your palm on Steve’s shoulder, rising to your tiptoes to bring yourself closer; and finally erased the last distance between you.

You could hear the sharp inhale just before your lips pressed to his, but by then, it was too late to back out.

And the moment your lips met, there was no space in your head for regrets; not an inch of your mind Steve didn’t occupy. The slightest shift of muscles of his arm under your palm, the brush of his warm hand over your hip; the sweet taste of his lips, the gentlest pressure against your mouth, his nose bumping yours as you did not quite coordinate; the heat and exhilaration rushing down your spine, the twitch of Steve’s fingers around your hand.

The tickle of his breath as you reluctantly retreated, cheeks burning, heartbeat pulsing in every single cell of your body, your gaze eagerly drinking in the sight of Steve’s eyes opening slowly, the gorgeous twinkle of something so delightfully alive sending your stomach fluttering, his hand remaining on your hip as if to ground you. To sooth the part of your that chased your frantic heart with worries if you had just terribly overstepped, the part so insistently nudging at your conscience despite the perfectly clear memory of how Steve responded to your semi-solicited attack on his perfect lips.

The corners of those perfect lips curled up, his voice a little husky as he observed you with silent wonder.

“I like the way you think.”

“Yeah? ‘Cause… I know this is what usually comes at the end of a date-”

You were silenced by the most beautiful and effective way known to mankind, the most pleasant shiver tickling your belly as Steve’s lips captured yours again, your hand released in order for him to cradle your cheek and angle your face up just to steal all air from your lungs oh so sweetly.

Your hand slid to his nape, keeping him close, deep contentment rumbling in his chest brushing against yours, his hand flexing at your hip, eliciting a silent keen in the back of your throat.

God your head was spinning and perhaps it had a little something to do with the fact you probably needed oxygen at this point, but you could not bring yourself to care, not when Steve’s lips continued to dance against yours with gentle insistence.

When he did let up, you found yourself gripping his shirt at his side, not moving back half an inch more than it was strictly necessary to breathe; an indulgent inhale of everything that was Steve, eyes remaining closed to process the utter explosion of feeling and sensations in your chest.

You could still feel his smile, still taste it on your lips as your tongue darted out, a careful nudge to your nose as Steve stole the briefest peck from your mouth again, air catching in your throat.

He held you. He held you so deliciously close still, the heat radiating off his body soothing and enticing at once, his thumb drawing a small circle on your burning cheek.

“Wow. That’s… wow. Okay,” you rasped, delighting bubbling in your throat, fingers instinctively caressing Steve’s nape as he pressed his forehead to yours.

“Yeah.”

“I--- I’m very relaxed now.”

And you were. God you were. There was not a single thing in this world that had ever felt so incredibly right.

Steve chuckled gently and you dared to open your eyes, meeting his sparkling blues. “One way to say that, I suppose. You’re a genius, Firefly.”

Breath hitching at the soft nickname – an endearment really, one you still weren’t sure where it came from but had been and was now longing to hear it again when it sounded so tenderly on his lips – you couldn’t contain the foolish smile tugging insistently on your lips, rewarded by another, albeit brief, taste of Steve’s own.

“Don’t know about that…”

“I do,” Steve argued, fingertips gently running over your brow, pushing a strand of your hair away from your face. “Genius. Just one catch.”

You didn’t have the capacity to second guess yourself, the soft hoarseness of Steve’s voice and the mischief in his gaze way too distracting.

“And what’s that?”

Smile widening, his fingers slid under your chin instead, tipping your head further back as he drank from your lips again, squeezing your hip just enough to have you stifle a whimper at the rush of pure delight through your veins.

God you hoped he’d never stop kissing you-

“Don’t wanna stop kissin’ ya’,” he drawled before he was pulling you in again, your ribcage nearly bursting at its seams at the tinge of the Brooklyn accent that you had never heard to come out before.

Great minds, you thought distantly. For all your back-and-forths before, some of them which you enjoyed, you were immensely enjoying being on the same page right now.

Your hand sprawled on his side appreciatively, your smile mirroring his.

“No protests here. No issues whatsoever,” you muttered between the brief encounters of lips. “You said you had a plan B, didn’t you?”

It was that that had Steve sigh, his forehead gently knocking against your again, causing you to swallow a sigh of disappointment. As sweet as the proximity still was, his lips had been much sweeter.

Even as his fingers tracing the length of your arm softly, leaving tender heat in their wake, were taking a close second.

“Good…” he hummed, a flash of mischief in his eye. “But you deserve better. We can save plan B for when we actually need it. Sounds good?”

Asking a question when looking at you like that, he would get your yes to anything. You had a distant feeling in your gut he knew that.

“’Kay.”

“There’s always time after, right?”

He petted the sensitive skin above your collarbone when retreating – and again, you would have agreed to anything if he’d done that just one more time, looking at you from under his eyelashes, a lovely combination of boyish and downright wicked.

“Yeah.”

He grinned, leaving no option for you but to peck his lips one more time; giggles bubbled in your throat, sunshine coming from within your chest warming your bones, when he used that opportunity to grasp at your chin again and held you close for a while longer, muttering a breathy ‘now hold on a second’ straight into your mouth

You were going to miss your reservation at this rate.

You did not care.

“Okay,” Steve sighed, almost wistfully. “Let’s go.”

Obedient of your Captain, you stepped back on embarrassingly wobbly legs and reached for your jacket and moved to slip into it; only for Steve to grasp your hand, confiscating the jacket and pulling you in for another kiss, muffling your surprised laughter.

Only then, with a sweet May I?, he held out the garment for you, complimenting your looks once more as you silently nodded, feeling heat rushing to your cheeks at his gentlemanly ways, not at all minding that his touch lingered less than gentlemanly on your shoulder. You believed you indeed were a sight; lips swollen a bit from the numerous kisses exchanged, eyes wide, face glowing with a smile; the perfect mirror to Steve’s expression.

And as you stepped out of the door, you left most shadows behind, only an echo of anxiety following you, blending into giddy anticipation.

There were still pressures and expectations; but as Steve took your hand in his, interlacing your fingers, you couldn’t help but feel at peace, a gentle voice inside you whispering you were exactly where you were meant to be.

And that whatever path you were to walk, it was the right one.

Drabbles and oneshots

Series masterlist // S.R. masterlist

Thank you for reading! It’s such a strange feeling to give, mostly, goodbye to a story. If you’re willing to share your thoughts and let me know what and if you enjoyed, I’ll be more than happy 💕

Similarly, I’ll be delighted if you stay tuned for the little Snapshots of Spectre’s and Steve’s life.

May February be sweet to you 🥰 And Happy Galentine's or Valentine's Day 💕

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers #captain america #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #captain america x reader #captain america x you #captain america imagine #back and forth #anika ann

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