#colin's brows furrowing in the third. and then relaxing. guy's going through it right there

[ohtendril]

There was something heartbreaking in the way she was gazing at him, as if she might die if he didn’t kiss her. Not from heartbreak, not from embarrassment—it was almost as if she needed him for nourishment, to feed her soul, to fill her heart.

[rewritethestars5218]

Febuwhump Day 3

I know I am 4 days behind, but this last week was really busy at work and I refuse to stress myself out over this challenge. I am doing this not only for the fun of the challenge, but to also teach myself that it is okay to fall behind and not view writing as a “second job”. I hope you all enjoy! I will try to catch up this week, but if not I’m not going to beat myself up.

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29163078/chapters/71866215

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Hostage Situation 

It started off as a tip of a possible camp of infected bokoblins.

The group had landed in Wild's Hyrule the night before. Thankfully, the goddess decided to drop them just outside Dueling Peaks Stable. 

The stable didn't have anyone staying the night, so the boys were able to spread out. 

The owner didn't mind. He was always happy to see Link and his friends show up because that meant business, and Link often paid more than was asked.

Two Hylians were sitting at one of the tables, quietly conversing. 

It didn't escape any of their attention that the two kept glancing back towards them.

Finally, one of the Hylians stood up and approached the group.

"You guys look like fighters," one stated somewhat nervously. 

"Whatever gave you that idea," Legend mocked under his breath, earning a chuckle from Wind.

Wild sighed at Legend's lack of tact. 

"Is there something we can help you with?" Wild asked.

"My friend over there said that he saw a large monster camp just off the path leading to Hateno Village," the stranger explained, wringing his hands nervously. "He said they have been terrorizing travelers for weeks now."

"Did your friend happen to say were along the path they were?" Wild asked, glanced back at the timid-looking man at the table. 

"He said they are in the wooded area just before you get to the Quince pass."

Wild silently groaned. Of course there would be a monster camp outside that pass. 

There was no way to get to Hateno without going through that narrow pass. 

"We'll head that way first thing tomorrow," Wild assured. 

"Thank you," the man said quickly, not meeting Wild's eyes. 

He turned and walked towards the exit, his companion quickly following behind.

Wild turned back where a few of his friends were watching the exchange curiously. 

"They seemed a little skittish," Four observed.

"Maybe the run-in with the monsters shook them up a bit," Hyrule suggested. 

"Still, that was weird, right?" Four asked.

"They definitely seemed to be on edge," Twilight agreed.

Wild nodded. "They definitely looked nervous, but we are a pretty intimidating looking group."

Four shrugged, conceding the fact. It would make sense for an ordinary traveler to be nervous if they saw 9 strangers, armed to the teeth.

"We have to head to Hateno anyway," Wild continued. "At least now we know there is a monster camp on the way."

As the group settled in for the night, Wild found that he couldn't sleep. 

Four was right; there was something strange about that exchange. 

It wasn't anything the man said, more the behavior that both strangers displayed. 

Wild learned long ago to trust his gut. He wasn't sure what was off about those two, but he made a note to keep a lookout for them when they were back on the road. 

------------------------------------

The group was on the road shortly after sunrise. 

A few of them...Legend and Sky...were not happy to get up so early, but Wild wanted to make sure they made it to Hateno before nightfall. 

The first few hours of the journey was uneventful. The nine heroes naturally split off into smaller groups as they walked, engaged in their own conversations.

Wild stayed up front, unable to fully relax. Something didn't feel right; he just couldn't put his finger on why.

Twilight had joined him early into the walk. 

His mentor talked about something Colin did that he found amusing, but Wild was having difficulty concentrating on the details.

Twilight must have noticed because he stopped halfway through his story and looked at Wild curiously. 

"Are you even listening," he asked jokingly. 

Wild startled, "Sorry...I was listening. I must have spaced out for a moment."

Twilight furrowed his brow. "Is everything alright?" 

"It's those two men from last night." Wild explained. "I don't know...there's just something about them that keeps eating at me."

"They did seem very uncomfortable to be around us. But perhaps it's like Hyrule said, maybe they were just a little shaken up, Maybe they have trust issues,"

Wild nodded. There were several logical reasons to explain their behavior, but that didn't quell the little voice in the back of his head telling him something was wrong.  

Suddenly, the group heard a maniacal laugh echoing all around them.

Wild spun around just in time to see an arrow flying right for them.

He shoved Twilight down and spun to deflect the attack, but the arrow managed to graze Wild across his bicep.

He hissed in pain as he grabbed his arm, looking up just in time to see a Yiga footsoldier disappear into a cloud of smoke.

"Yiga!" Wild shouted as the rest of the group were already pulling out their weapons. 

Wild had his bow out in a flash. He looked around frantically, waiting to see where the Yiga soldier would appear next.

Wild heard two familiar puffs cut through the air. He turned and saw two Yiga soldiers materialize, one behind Four and one behind Wind.

The Yiga grabbed Wind and Four before they could react and held their demon carvers to their throats.

Both Wind and Four slowly raised their hands in surrender. The Yigas' eyes were locked on Wild. 

"I knew it!" Wild yelled, gripping his bow tighter. "You are the two from last night!"

A third puff of smoke appeared, revealing a Yiga blade master. 

The blade master laughed, "Those fools? They were just two pathetic travels we captured. We told them we would let them live if they passed along a message to the scared 'hero' of this land."

"Cowards!" Twilight growled. It didn't escape his attention that the Yiga intentionally targeted the two smallest of the group. 

Twilight readied his blade, his eyes locked on the Yiga who had Four.

Wild glared dangerously at the Yiga soldier who had Wind, an arrow nocked and pointed at the soldier's head. 

"Let them go!" Wild snarled as he took a threatening step closer to his target. 

The Yiga soldier tightened his grip around Wind, pressing his rounded blade into the young hero's neck.

Wild's eyes briefly flashed with concern when he saw blood slowly trickle down the sailor's neck. 

"Master Koga warned you!" the blade master spat. "He told you we would track you to the ends of Hyrule!"

 "To what end?!" Wild snapped. "You have no masters left to serve!"

The Yiga holding onto Four laughed. "Foolish hero. Ganon's hatred lives on. Surely you feel it; choose one!"

Wild felt his stomach drop. 

"You lie!" Wild spat back. "I killed Ganon!"

The blade master laughed. "To kill a snake, you must first cut off its head."

Wild dropped his bow slightly, his brain grappling with that statement. 

"Ganon will return again...” the blade master threatened. “...and this time he won't fail!"

Twilight saw Four’s eyes flash blue. The older hero smirked. 

He recognized that look. 

These Yiga were about to realize they targeted the wrong Hylians. 

The Yiga soldier holding Four dropped his guard slightly as he listened to his leader's monologue. 

That was all Four needed.

Four quickly grabbed the Yiga's blade hand with both of his. He twisted the footsoldier's wrist and pulled it down and away from him.

Four quickly slipped under the Yiga's arm and twisted it, locking the arm behind the soldier's back. The Yiga struggled to grab Four with his free hand but couldn't. 

The Yiga holding Wind turned at the sudden disturbance, giving Wind an opening to pull off a similar move. 

The only difference was, instead of twisting the Yiga's arm behind his back, Wind bit the footsoldier's hand...hard.

The Yiga yelped in pain as he dropped his blade. He pivoted and went to kick Wind in the stomach, but the young hero anticipated the move and rolled out of the way.

Wind stood up, sword in hand, and drove the blade deep into the Yiga's exposed side. 

Almost immediately after, Wind heard a sickening thunk, and he knew Wild had fired his arrow. 

The Yiga soldier crumpled where he stood, an arrow protruding from between his eyes.

The Yiga blade master took advantage of the chaos. 

He slammed his hand into the ground, red magic pouring from him into the earth.  

A stone pillar appeared and started heading straight for Wild. 

At the same moment, Twilight dashed towards the Yiga struggling with Four. 

He brought his sword up diagonally, slashing the footsoldier across his chest and face.  

The Yiga howled in pain as he stumbled out of Four's grasp. 

The Yiga immediately locked eyes with Twilight, his mask marred with a deep gash. Before Four could unleash an attack, the Yiga vanished in a puff of smoke. 

Warriors noticed that Wild was in the direct path of the column that the blade master unleased. 

He charged at the champion and tackled him to the ground before the column slammed into him. 

The blade master was suddenly on top of the two, his speed surprising the captain. 

Warriors saw the blade master's sword heading towards him. He brought his sword up to parry the blow, but this Yiga was powerful, and the captain wasn't able to keep the wicked blade from piercing through his side.

Warriors couldn't bite back the cry of pain as the blade master slowly pulled his sword out.

Wild felt his blood run cold when he saw the blood dripping off the windcleaver. 

His hand instinctively went to his slate. He jumped up and was already in the motion of swinging when his scimitar materialized in his hand.

The blade master was agile for his size, and he backflipped just out of Wild's reach, leaving Wild standing defensively over Warriors.

"Pathetic!" the blade master taunted. "I am going to send you all straight to hell!"

Just then, the blade master stumbled forward. He let out a wet cough as a large blade burst out from his chest.

Time tightened his grip on his biggoron's sword as he leaned closer to the blade master.

"You first," he growled as he twisted the blade, drawing a cry of agony from the Yiga.

He pulled his sword out, and the blade master collapsed where he stood.

Wild abandoned his sword and dropped next to Warriors. 

He let out a curse when he saw how pale the captain looked. Not only that, but his breathing was shallow and quick.

Time appeared next to Wild, worry written all over his face. He saw Wild frantically swiping through his slate.

"I know it's in here..." Wild said tensely to himself. Time grabbed Warriors scarf, balled it up, and pushed it against the wound.

Warriors groaned painfully and tried to push Time's hands away.

"Don't," Legend said sharply, appearing next to them, unable to mask the worry in his voice. "You're only going to make it worse." 

He carefully pulled Warriors' hands away from Time's.

"Move!" Hyrule barked as he squeezed in between Wild and Time, his hands starting to glow.

"Wait!" Wild shouted.

Hyrule paused when he saw a fairy materialize from Wild's slate. 

The little fairy went to work, allowing her healing magic to flow into Warriors' wound.

By the time the fairy was finished, the wound was much smaller and shallower, and Warriors' breathing had stabilized.

"Don't," Warriors ground when Hyrule started to channel his healing magic. The captain attempted to sit up, but a hand shot out and pushed him back to the ground.

"Quit being a stubborn ass and let Hyrule heal you," Legend exasperated. 

Once Wild was satisfied that Warriors would be alright, he stood up and scanned the area.

He saw Sky and Four trying to talk to a very agitated Wind. 

The sailor pressed his hand to his neck, and Wild could see where the blood had trickled down.

When he thought back to when the Yiga had pressed the demon carver into Wind's neck, Wild heart sank. 

"I said I'm fine," Wind protested as Sky gently directed him to sit on the ground. 

"I know," Sky said calmly. "But even small wounds can get infected. Let me treat it, and it will be healed come nightfall."

Wind grumbled under his breath but didn't protest further. 

Four understood Wind's mood. He knew the younger hero's pride hurt more than anything. 

Being caught off guard and used as a temporary hostage did not sit well with Four either.

 Being the smallest of the group was never easy. Four found that enemies usually pegged him as an easy target. He always made sure those enemies paid for their misjudgment.

Wind had it worse out of the two of them. He was the youngest, which caused the others to treat him differently at times.

 It wasn't done purposely. They all respected Wind and knew he had gone through his own journey and defeated Ganondorf. Still, the older members of the group couldn't help but be more protective of him.

 Wind usually shrugged it off with a witty comment, but there were times where it got under his skin.

In this instance, Four was sure Wind was angry because the Yiga had pegged him as an 'easy' target and got the jump on him. The fact that Warriors had gotten hurt definitely made the whole situation worse.

 The sailor had quite a temper, but thankfully Sky always seemed to be able to calm him down.

Wild wanted to check on Wind, but he hesitated. He didn't want Wind to think he was fussing over him, but he still felt incredibly guilty about what happened.

Before Wild could decide what to do, he felt a hand grab his wrist. 

He glanced up to where Twilight was standing.

"If you want to talk to Wind, do it later, "he said quietly as if he could read Wild's thoughts. 

"Besides..." Twilight continued as he twisted Wild's arm to get a better look at the gash across his bicep. "...I need to wrap your arm."

Wild couldn't help the small hiss that escaped his lips at the sudden motion. He also knew there was no point in protesting. He sat down as Twilight rummaged through his bag. 

 Thankfully, neither Wind's nor Wild's wounds were serious. Both Sky and Twilight applied a small amount of red potion to the bandages before wrapping the wounds.

Four looked over and saw that Warriors was sitting up with Legend's assistance as Hyrule wrapped his injury.

Time made the executive decision to set up camp early. Unsurprisingly, no one protested.

As everyone was unpacking, Wind approached Wild.

"I just wanted to say thanks...for saving me back there," he said as he scratched the back of his head. 

"Were we watching the same fight because I distinctly remember you getting out of that situation all on your own?" Wild asked in mocked confusion.

"Only because Four distracted him," Wind countered.

"So? You took advantage of an opportunity. All good fighters do that."

Wind didn't look convinced.

"Wind, you bit the guy's hand so hard he dropped his blade. Not only that, but you dodged his kick and used the opening to stab him in the ribs. You didn't need me. I only shot him because I was pissed."

Wild wasn't lying. Sure he shot the Yiga to keep him from lashing out at Wind, but he was sure Wind would have finished the job if he didn't. 

And he was pissed.

Wind smirked. "It was a good shot."

"How's your neck?" Wild asked as he eyed the bandage.

"Fine," Wind said. "Sky made a bigger deal out of it than it had to be. He's such a mother cucco."

Wild glanced down at the ground. "I'm sorry," 

Wind crinkled his eyebrows. "For what? Sky being a mother cuccu?"

Wind smirked again but dropped it when Wild's frowned. 

"I let my anger get the better of me. I advanced on that Yiga instead of staying back. Had I not done that, he wouldn't have cut you. Besides, I am the reason you and Four were targeted. They went after you to get to me."

Wind didn't know how to respond. He started the whole conversation with the intent of thanking Wild for saving him, and somehow it turned into Wild apologizing to him. 

"Are you seriously apologizing for having a psycho cult chasing after you?" 

Wild tried to give Wind a stern look.

"That look only works when Time does it," Wind quipped. Wild held the look anyway.

"I must have missed it when you snuck off and told the Yiga to take us hostage." Wind continued sarcastically.

"You know what I mean," Wild protested.

"No, I really don't. You didn't tell those assholes to attack us. Hylia above Wild, here I was trying to thank you for saving me, and you're over here thinking the whole damn thing was your fault."

Now it was Wild's turn to feel embarrassed. When Wind put it that way, it did seem silly.

This had been the longest the group had spent in Wild's Hyrule, and he found it nearly impossible to stop himself from feeling guilty anytime one of them was in danger. 

The reality was they were always in danger. It didn't matter whose Hyrule they were in. 

He shifted uncomfortably when he noticed Wind was still staring at him.

Wild sighed (again). "Fine, you made your point," he mumbled. Then he smirked. "So long as you admit you're a badass, and you didn't need my help back there."

Wind laughed. "Maybe they'll think twice before they pick on the little guy."

"Or maybe you and Four will be our secret weapons," Wild smirked.  

Wind chuckled at the idea. When he looked up at Wild he saw that the champion's smiled had dropped, his gaze locked onto Warriors.

"You know, what happened to Warriors wasn't your fault," Wind offered.

Wild shook his head. "I allowed myself to get distracted," Wild argued. 

Wind cocked an eyebrow. "I see. So it wasn't my fault that I wasn't paying attention and let that asshole capture me, but it's totally your fault for not noticing a sneak attack sent your way while you were killing the very asshole who took me hostage,"

Wild shot him a dirty glare, but Wind was unphased.

"Not so good at taking your own advice, are ya?" Wind mocked. "If I'm not allowed to blame myself, you sure as shit aren't allowed to blame yourself,"

Wild opened his mouth to argue but knew he wasn't going to win.

Instead, he just signed. "Point taken."

[georgemackayhey]

Silver Lining: Chapter 4

In which you and George decide to make the most of life after meeting up at the wrong place at just the right time…

w/c: 6k

a/n: This is the second to last chapter, guys! Ah! It's been such fun to write, and as always I'm looking forward to hearing all your thoughts and feelings! ♡

taglist: @etherealallure​ @maria-josefin​ @shelbygirlsclubx​ @loulouloueh​ @clarkewithameme​ @haileymorelikestupid​ @weyheyavengers​ @queen-bunnyears​

< Last Chapter Next Chapter>

───※ ·❆· ※───

The halls of the resort were immaculate, the sound of your hurried stomp echoed through them. You had hardly taken the time to appreciate the well-lit space with the way you zoomed up to the third floor- fist clenched at your side. You knew exactly what to expect, holding no hope for any other possibility.

And as you hurriedly knocked on the soft cream door of room 500, you hadn't even really noticed how George was hot on your trail; though lagging a bit behind to catch his breath on a winding staircase.

There was muffled chatter from behind the door you approached, the sound causing your patience to wear thin. So you went on knocking until the sound of a lock being turned proceeded its fateful opening.

"What? What is it- oh."

Colin was stood in the sliver of the open door, dressed in a sloppily tied hotel robe. And even though he seemed unprepared to greet anyone, a wicked grin painted his lips, as if he'd somehow been expecting to see you, all the same. The sight of him was enough to set your blood to a boil and the sound of his stupid grumbly voice nearly drove you to a psychotic break right then and there.

"What are you doing here?" You asked in a growl through your teeth. As soon as the desk attendant shot you a pitiful glare, you knew what was going on. You weren't surprised to see your almost ex-husband guarding the entrance to the room you booked for your honeymoon. But you were well and truly seething that he had the gall to enjoy any kind of leisure time during the period he should have somehow been paying for his moral crimes.

"Well, darling, as I recall it, I wanted to come here. You wanted to go to Rome. Looks like we've both gotten what we want, hm?"

"Don't call me-" You spat, glaring at him with a look you wish could kill.

"Alright- alright, It's been a lovely visit but I've had quite enough of you," Colin moved to shut the door, but in some odd reflex, you moved to stop it. You didn't really want to see much more of the guy. You didn't even realize you had more to say. But curses and blames started spouting out of you, pent up for too long.

Colin wasn't listening though. Why would he?  He did his own talking, right over top of you, complaining about the things he always hated about your life together, how much time he wasted on you. You were arguing the things you both always knew but were never brave enough to say in the stability of your mediocre romance.

"It's just like you to show up and ruin the only bit of good life has thrown my way in the past week." You hissed.

"Oh please, I gave you more good than you'll ever get again." Colin boasted, always one to make mention of wealth and status, no matter the situation or topic.

As you stood trying desperately trying to think up a comeback, you were too blinded by anger to say anymore.

That's when another voice, strained from hurrying after you, floated around the corner.

"Y/n? What's- oh" George's concerned expression morphed into some surprising glare when he turned to see who had already taken residence in the room you booked. George stalled in place, managing to steady himself in a flash even with all the momentum he'd gained on his race to catch up to you.

"Who the hell are you?" Colin asked in a condescending snort of a laugh that made the meter tracking your rage fly up and over the ballistic marker, sending you to short circuit.

But there was nothing more to say or do. Colin likely wouldn't give up his stay if you demanded, and even if he decided too, you wouldn't have wanted to stay in a room your ex-fiance had just been occupying. You knew he was only blocking your entry so he might have some kind of last laugh. And he got it, didn't he? With a frustrated groan, you spun on your heels and stormed away in the same fashion you'd hurried up here.

"Enjoy your holiday" You heard George offer Colin some semblance of a goodbye, though his tone was strained and withholding, he was still polite. But you were too busy fuming to admire the little ways George fascinated you.

You didn't have time to meet the desk attendants worried gaze as you stormed past his desk and out of the resort doors. You didn't have the sense to feel sorry for breaking up a group of birds from enjoying someone's discarded cup of ice cream as you paced toward a row of tall trees at the edge of the car park.

You knew the fun would have to end soon, but you were ignorant to the possibility of this trip ending in the same frustrating manner the night before your wedding had. Colin was at the worst place at the right time and he got just what he wanted, leaving you to pay the price once more. But you probably deserved it. You were really beginning to wonder if life could be lived in the dreamlike haze that Rome provided. You should have known better.

And just like always, when you least expected it, George slowly sauntered toward where you lingered kicking rocks at trees.

"Only you would run into someone you know on holiday in Barcelona" He echoed the same wry joke you gave him in Rome, but now was different. Now was ruined and you were struggling not to cry.

"I'm sorry, George. I thought this was going to be endless fun, and I don't know what I was thinking, dragging you along, and now its all ruined and I just-"

"It's not ruined." George gently cut through your monologue in that marvelously confusing way of his; pointing out the bright side that you really couldn't see, especially right now. "It doesn't have to be anyway." You just kept your befuddled gaze on him as he went on...

"He can keep the resort. It was far too posh anyway. Why don't we find a place on the beach and make the best of it?"

"You.. you still want to?" You breathed a humorless laugh. Your shoulders relaxed as you attempted to come away from your anger, and tried to understand why on earth George was still on board this wild ride.

"Well, we're already here. And... you promised I could choose our next adventure." George teased, offering a grin and reading his brows, coaxing you to smile too. You just stared at him, taking note of his relaxed disposition, his gentleness. It practically radiated from him.

"I'll go fetch our bags if you find a cab?" George nodded, already beginning to walk backward toward the entrance of the resort. And with the way he took the action you felt no option but to agree to join in, nodding on your turn to hail a ride.

The cab driver you flagged down was almost sickeningly helpful. She listed off a few dozen places to stay adding her personal favorite perks of every place. She waved goodbye when you and George stretched out onto the pavement of a hotel a decent number of miles away from the resort you'd come from.

The hotel you'd chosen was right on a golden beach, a quaint little stucco styled building. Inside was decorated in natural tones and plants and flowers. George insisted on splitting the cost when you wouldn't let him pay for the whole thing.

You thought of renting two separate small rooms four floors apart, but that seemed silly since you were basically on this trip together. So because the price was the same, you booked a suite with two small rooms joined by a galley kitchen and called it a day.

So after lugging your bags into the spot you'd keep them for the next week, there was nothing left to worry over. The mini bar in the lobby was serving drink specials; you decided since it wasn't quite time for dinner or bed, the day you had called for some form of immediate indulgence.

The bar was full of seasoned vacationers, sharing finger foods and margaritas. A kind bar keep managed to take your order before you'd even settled at the bar top. "You know what, I better just get this over with." You decided, pulling your phone from your pocket. You'd promised to call your mother often, and you knew you had to tell her what had just gone down. The sooner the better, you realized, because you didn't want to dwell on Colin or anything you had to endure hearing from the guy. You wanted to forget everything that had happened and spend the rest of your vacation having at least a little bit of fun.

You pushed past a door into the warm afternoon, settling against a wooden post of the patio where families lingered to shake off the sand from the beach before heading back inside the hotel.

Your mother answered the phone as she had days ago, worried before you'd even gotten the chance to say hello. So you didn't even try to mask your greeting with fake charm. You headed straight into the details of your upsetting encounter. How the start of your stay in this beautiful city was permanently soiled with the memory of Colin.

"I tried to warn you." Your mother spoke theatrically. You wondered if she could hear your furrow your brow, because she went on to explain herself. "I heard from Shirley, who heard from Dr. McCarther, that Colin's mother said he left for the airport a day ago."

So that's why she'd been so frantic on the phone, before.

"I tried to warn you, deary. I know how much you wanted this trip to be some kind of escape." She commiserated in the way only mothers know how to best.

"Yeah, I'm determined to keep it that way. We're staying at the beach now, instead." You spoke decidedly.

"Well, now that I've got your attention might I suggest coming home?" Your mother scolded. "I understand what you're going through but is taking off with some stranger really-"

You blocked out everything she said after that. Your mother meant well, you knew, but she had no idea what you were going through. She'd been happily married for decades. And she didn't know George.

You just couldn't go one talking about this situation. Sure Colin did his best to rain on your parade, but the heavens gave you one last shot to go a little wild. You were here, with George and there was no changing that. So you ended the call with the promise you were safe and sound and planned to keep it that way. Then you marched back inside repeating the mantra to yourself.

"What your mother must think of me," George pulled a face as you eased into the seat at the dark wooden bar, next to him. "I cringe to wonder."

"Oh, you think I'm calling home to report about you, Mr. Movie star?" You joked, jabbing George in the arm with your elbow. At this point, the little gesture felt familiar and you'd only wondered if you'd been to forward after the fact. If George was put off by it, his broad grin was only contradicted by the smallest shake of his head, eyes averted to a waiter who happily served your drinks.

___

The next day you woke up early and headed to see Casa Batlló. In fact, in just the first couple of days, you managed to see the majority of Gaudi's creations. It was divine, taking the time to admire the buildings and listen to other tourists yammer on about what they'd come to see and why they were so excited to be in the city.

There were fleeting moments, for the first day or two, when you worried Colin wasn't finished sabotaging your trip. That he might pop out of nowhere and pretend he was the one who was once so excited to take a tour of a modern art museum. But you realized he was never keen to your well-planned list. In fact, you planned most of your trip with the knowledge that Collin would be off meeting business partners and making deals. You needed something to occupy your time, and you never imagined having anyone to experience each little adventure with you.

That's what made George's presence all the more exciting.

Besides that, you'd seemed to have fallen into a familiar routine with George. And not just in the way you'd gone about planning out your days. You'd began to predict each other's lunch orders and what you'd both might have enjoyed most about each little adventure, and why. You'd began to pick up on many of George's little quirks...

Like how every place you went, people noticed George, but he didn't seem to notice their lingering gazes. You could never be sure if passerby recognized him like you once had, or if they were only struck by his perfect features like you often were.

But this didn't mean he gave anyone a cold shoulder. No, George was as friendly to the people running market booths and passerby as he was to you, offering smiles and asking about the details of the flowers they were selling.

He brought up serious things at the strangest times. Like how he told you some deep dark secret in passing over midday coffee, just as you'd come away from raving about the cup you held in your hands. George would ask intense questions as you stood on the edge of a garden watching a street band play where children danced near the makeshift drums. His timing always seemed strange and unexpected; but as you went on talking about whatever might have been brought up, you realized you felt completely comfortable sharing your own answers and hearing his in turn.

George gave answers that were well thought out, even if they were just yes or no. And he listened when you did the same, nodding and laughing at every right time.

Then there was how you shared silence together. Even when there weren't words to trade, the glances and nods you passed to each other seemed to speak for themselves.

And when you lied on the beach, breathing in the salty air while the sounds of scattered laughter were dulled by crashing waves, the silence between you and George was easy.

George looked perfectly comfy with a new ratty paperback held above his face. You wondered how many tiny storybooks he's backed away, and how many times he'd read them, with such worn covers.

When you pointed out boats on the far off horizon, George wasn't upset to be disrupted his reading. He indulged every one of your passing thoughts before turning another page, reading on till one of you had reason to speak up again.

But when you closed your eyes to soak up the warmth of the sun, your peace was broken when George uttered a strange noise. You lifted your sunglasses, turning your head to find a hard plastic frisbee had invaded the space you set up.

"I'm so sorry!" A girl rushed toward you, apologizing in an accented squeak. Her hair was flowing honey brown, her bathing suit was sunny yellow. She was the kind of picture-perfect girl that when mirrored against your own image, alerted you to the things you liked least about yourself.

"We're just learning how to play," She shyly reached out for the frisbee George had taken into his clutch, after it hit him on the knee.

"It's not too hard. Keep your eye on the prize next time, aye?" George extended the plastic disc to the girl.

She giggled. You feigned a chuckle in response as you slid your sunnies back on.  George spun off into some story about the correct frisbee stance and how it was tougher than it looked.

"Care to lead by example? We're hopeless." The foreign girl bit her lip with a hopeful gaze and that was all it took to get George to his feet.

Before he left, though, he handed his book to you with a smile. "Safe hands." He gave you a look as you settled back into your spot, giving him a similar expression before watching him skip off to meet the group of girls, showing them all the perfect frisbee stance, whatever the hell that even meant. How hard could it really be?

You only turned your gaze to the book in your possession, pretending to read it, but more so admiring the pages as you tried to understand what made them so important to George, what he valued. Wondering what tomorrow might bring.

___

Four days in, a heavy downpour halted your plans to frolic through the streets of Barcelona. You had become absolutely taken with the city and every time a new adventure died down, the pair of you would dream up what to do with the rest of your time.

So when dense pelts of rain woke you up, you frowned, but George seemed at ease, of course. He was just as excited to plan a day in.

He ordered extra from room service and found a foreign movie channel on the television in his room. The pair of you kicked back on the decently-sized bed he'd made up and added your own commentary to the films you couldn't quite understand. You ended having a blast making up storylines of your own as movies passed by the screen, and you shared plates of fruits while the rain poured on.

It was easy to get lost in George's company, no matter what you were doing. You realized you were treading dangerous waters, letting yourself feel so engulfed by his presence. But you let yourself all the same, determined to make the most of this rare occasion that would soon become nothing but a fleeting occasional memory.

Then it came time to attend the cooking class you'd signed up for. The website where the sign up sheet came from encouraged everyone who did to make time to visit La Boqueria beforehand. The market was only just around the corner from where the cooking class was held, and it was the place all the ingredients you'd work with would have been purchased.

You and George roamed around stalls for almost too long, exchanging favorite recipes, kitchen horror stories, and successes. You'd nearly forgotten where you were on your way too and had to hurry around a couple of corners to make it to the class on time.

When you arrived in a rush, the people who'd made it there on time were mingling inside a building made up of big tall windows and white brick. Most of them stared, bewildered by your hurry inside. There was still time to spare it seemed.

And as you eased in to join the group who'd already been waiting, past a few warm welcomes, you recognized one greeting out of the rest.

It was the girl from the beach who couldn't manage to get the hang of throwing a frisbee. Though you had a hunch she'd know exactly what she was aiming for, that day.  And there was no doubt she'd recognized you now, or rather, George.

He greeted her warmly, with kindness, like George did best. You gave her a smile and a shrug, accepting that she wasn't keen to give you the time of day. In fact as she greeted George in turn, she mentioned only signing up for this class after he mentioned something about it during their impromptu frisbee lesson.

Luckily that was about the time the instructor made his grand appearance.

A tall slender man with dark hair tousled and big green eyes slid into the room with a perfect smile. He introduced himself as Aureo, and you were nearly blinded by his beauty. He was just the right amount of good looking, a little intimidating, but all too well-spoken, he was like a male version of a siren.  

As Aureo spoke enthusiastically about the wonders your cooking class was about to embark upon, it seemed everyone was just as smitten with the instructor. Even George seemed dazzled, his wide eyes entirely fixated on the fellow.  

As Aureo went on explaining the class and began to delve into the foundations of cooking and the joy of food, his forest-colored eyes kept sweeping over to meet yours. His smile never faltered as he helped each attendant set up their kitchen. You and George were meant to stick together, as most of the people who'd come had brought a friend or two in tow. But the frisbee girl was all on her own.

Aureo was quick to assign her to join up with another pair of ladies, who were more than happy to accept her. But as you watched the slim girl move further toward the back of the room you watched her smile falter.

Soon, you got to cooking a basic version of paella with some fun added twists, and some pa amb tomàquet. Between demonstrations, Aureo made rounds to help everyone set up and start in.

You and George settled into your usual comfortable banter, shoving each other out of the way while you playfully bickered over the cooking instructions. George compared the duty to The Great British Bake off, laughing at how some of the other mini kitchen's were fretting over doing the exact right task at the exact right time.

The room made up of windows was full of warm sunlight and delightful smells. And in between everything was Aureo. You swore you felt your heart stop each time you caught him glancing your way. Never before had you felt so drawn to someone but simultaneously cautious of the same thing.

"Are you going to flirt back or leave that man hopelessly gawking your way the whole afternoon?" George wondered after you'd been caught averting a prolonged gaze with the guy teaching you to cook something new.

"Oh, I can't he's way out of my league." You fretted, searching for a certain spice on the rack in your cabinet space. "Plus I just got my courage up to say something and he's not even looking over here anymore." You pouted while George chopped up a lemon, chucking at your disposition.

You looked over to find Aureo leaning over a woman's shoulder as she offered him a bite of a cut-up pepper. He seemed to have forgotten all about you, actually, admiring the pretty, starry-eyed girl he was circling now.

"It's because he watched me shove fresh bread in my face like a monster and now I'm totally unkissable and he'll never even look my way again ." You joked. As much as you'd liked the attention the instructor kept giving you, there was something holding you back from giving in all the way.

The man was a walking angel, a vision, and he kept looking right at you with something undeniable burning behind his gaze. That was pretty nice.

"You're perfectly kissable, now let's get you that man." George raised his hand, polite as ever, even while scheming.

But you couldn't tell if he meant it, or if he was just trying to shift your attention elsewhere so he could flirt back with the hot girl who'd been shamelessly swooning over George all afternoon. She would shoot her smile across the room, laughing a little when George happily grinned back.

Low and behold, when Aureo came over to ask what you needed, and you made up some excuse about confusing measurements, the frisbee girl took a chance to come prancing over too. Her name was Renee, and her excuse for invading your kitchen was honestly to borrow some sugar. No one needed any sugar. It was a bloody free for all, and all you could seem to focus on was Aureo's warm hand trailing across your lower back as he went on telling you exactly what to do next.

When he left you, his glances somehow became more persistent, and you felt certain you were living in some kind of fever dream. And he kept coming back.

At first, to ask what music you'd prefer played over the background speaker, insisting if you said the word and he'd waltz back to change the song. Aureo was cunningly persistent, and you didn't mind his brief but blush filled visits. Especially since George had an admirer of his own.

Renee waltzed over, asking George about his stay in Barcelona so far. He kept mentioning the things you'd enjoyed together, asking you how you remembered certain things, and Renee would cast a glance your way. It was empty and unfeeling, just for show before her focus settled completely back to George.

And you couldn't blame her. He was so easy to observe.

You thought you'd started to figure George out by now, but of course, you hadn't. He still laughed about things you didn't realize he'd even noticed. He still looked at you in a way you couldn't understand. Even while he was talking to Renee.

As all the food started to come together, everyone went around trying each other's dishes. Renee made herself at home on your countertop, gushing over George's skills in the kitchen. As they got to talking about their favorite foods, she took a shot at asking him to someplace in the city with the best coffee he absolutely had to try.

Renee was serious, her big doe eyes gazing up at him with her fingers crossed behind her back. As George hesitated to respond, the girl was called back to her kitchen when their food had finished cooking.

When she sulked away with a glance over her shoulder to George who had already turned his attention back to the wonderful pa amb tomàquet you'd managed to create, you felt for the poor girl.

"Are you afraid of trying the best coffee ever and ruining your taste for every other cup for the rest of time?" You chuckled, leaning against the counter while George happily snacked away.

"I suppose we could stop in if you're so keen." George shrugged, none the wiser.

"Wouldn't you want to go with Renne?" You pushed, giving the guy a little laugh as you reached for one of the bits of bread on a silver platter.

"I've only just met her." George started off chuckling, but as he spoke he seemed to realize what it was he was saying. You shared a look, considering how Geogres soft smile remained, but turned into an expression more serious that you couldn't quite understand. But your smile blossomed into a burst of a laugh.

"You didn't even know my name when you gave me your phone number." You pestered, doing your best to ignore how speaking about it made my stomach fill with butterflies. How thinking back to this whole thing started seemed crazy, but in a good way.

"That was different." George searched your face, his brilliant blue eyes full of something he wasn't saying. Something he thought, or maybe hoped, you understood.

Somehow, after a few silent moments passed while you went on lazily tidying up your kitchen,  George said something about how he'd come here with you, and didn't want to leave you out of anything. He said that if you made plans with Aureo, that he'd make plans with Renee. But It felt like a dare. It didn't feel like a change of plans. It felt like some kind of game.

And the next thing you knew, you motioned Aureo over toward you and asked his favorite place to go dancing.

___

You slept in the next morning, content far from home. You stretched slowly into the morning, taking your sweet time getting ready for the day. As you padded into the galley kitchen to kick start the automatic coffee machine, you didn't expect any company.

"Goodmorning!" George greeted, coming from around the corner with an empty teacup in his clutch. You gasped, taken aback by his sudden appearance for once.

"I thought you were supposed to be drinking the world's best coffee with the world prettiest girl, today?" You sighed a laugh, relaxing against the counter as your heart rate eased back to normal. You had thought you heard him make plans before leaving the class, last night.

George set down his cup turning to face you while the coffee machine crackled to life.

"I decided against it. I'm sorry, I thought I told you so."

"Oh," You frowned in realization, wondering when he went about changing his mind.

Yesterday, as you'd lost yourself in a giggle-filled conversation with Aureo before the class ended, George seemed to be getting on well with Renee in the corner. What had happened?

"Well, now I'll feel bad about leaving you later." You spoke up, searching for a mug in the limited cabinet space.

"Oh, you shouldn't. I trust you'll have a good time. Renee was sweet. Just..."

"Yeah, yeah..." You pretended to understand, having no clue what George was being so weird about. "Want some of the world's most mediocre coffee?" You laughed, pouring yourself a cup to enjoy the morning, well, afternoon by this point.

The weather was a bit gloomy again, but the rain held off, giving you the perfect chance to whip out a set of playing cards on the balcony barely big enough to fit either of you together. When the time came to start getting ready, you were conflicted.

"You won't feel bad if I go?" You asked. Because George had basically been following your lead this whole trip, even asking if you were happy with the little things he thought up to do, before going about doing them.

"I'll be perfectly happy so long as you are." George did little to persuade you one way or another, which was funny considering how he'd coaxed you into giving Aureo a little attention the day before.

Ultimately, you got ready to go out. The cooking instructor had given you an address to meet up with him after his workday ended, and after a quick google search, you found it was a pretty popular night club. As you slid into an outfit, you almost wondered if you should invite George along. But as soon as the thought passed through your mind, so did a million other reasons why that was a bad idea.

"How's this?" You genuinely worried over how you looked, rushing to stand still in the doorway of the room you'd been occupying. George was stood in the kitchen, sporting joggers, holding a glass of water in one hand, and a new, old tattered book in the other.

"Oh.... you, well..." The guy looked you up and down, failing to come up with an assured answer. That was what you'd expected, a simple yes or no, maybe even a reason for whatever answer he'd chosen. Like always. But he just stated different conjunctions while you pulled at the hem of a dress you weren't sure how to feel about.

"Well, it'll have to do. I'm late." You sighed, hurrying to fetch your room key from the counter and fasten your shoes on. Aureo was probably already waiting up for you outside of the nightclub he insisted on showing you too, after you'd asked.

"Right well, see ya." George watched you scurry out into the hallway with a quick wave.

On your speed walk down the stairs, you couldn't help but kick yourself for not giving George a proper goodbye, even if you were in a rush. You'd felt so conflicted, leaving him. You didn't have a doubt he'd be happy on his own, but you'd come to function as some kind of team on this trip. Leaving seemed unnatural.

///

Aureo was standing in a well fitted, casual suit jacket with matching short cuffed trousers. His already brilliant features lit up when he saw you hurrying to cross the street.

As you met up with him you apologized for being late, feeling a bit bashful as he stepped even closer to hear you speak. His accent added something even more enchanting to his already velvety voice, when he assured it was fine and how excited he was to show you to his favorite club in the city.

The way his emerald green eyes traveled across your figure before he complimented your dress made you weak in the knees. His warm hand across the small of your back as he guided you inside.

There were three levels you could see, people dancing close to massive speakers, leaning over the rails of each floor to wave to their friends above and below. The lights were dim except every now and again when they flashed to the beat of some decently enjoyable pop music.

The bar wrapped around three corners, liquor decorating the walls of the lower level. That's where you headed first, insisting Aureo order you something he enjoyed best since this was his scene.

Some fancy mixed drink slid across the counter soon after he'd ordered as if they'd been expecting him. It wasn't long before your own drink came, some electric blue liquid in a crystal glass.

That's how the night started, taking some time to enjoy your drink before Aureo pulled you toward the dance floor. He was good, of course, and you didn't even have time to worry over the steps you were missing as he guided you along. It was stupidly fun, spinning around, bumping into people who'd laughed because they'd just bumped into you as well. Spirits were high, and between songs, you kept going back for more drinks.

Every pause, Aureo talked about cooking. You happily listened, trying to soak up everything about your surroundings at once.

You were a few drinks in, and the room was already close to spinning. But you were having so much fun. You slammed back another electric blue drink and twirled back to the dance floor.

There was something about the bass line in the chorus of Justin Timberlake's "Filthy" that you couldn't resist. And the floor was packed with dancers who must have felt the same. As you went on trying your best not to lose Aureo in the crowd while simultaneously losing yourself to the music, you felt your alcoholic haze turn into a fever of sorts.

As you raced away from the music, there was a mile-long line to either restroom, so you headed straight for the back exit.

You spilled out into a long dark alley where dumpsters lived. There were distant bouts of laughter coming from smokers at either end, so you spun between a trash can and a discarded broken shelf and proceeded to get sick.

It was an unceremonious end to your efforts to have a blast. And what was worse, how you still felt dizzy and down.

It wasn't long before Aureo came to check on you. He was the perfect gentleman, holding your hair back for round two and asking what you needed.

You apologized several hundred times for ruining the fun when you decided it was best just to go back to your hotel. You asked Aureo if you could make it up to him in a day or so. You were drunk enough to speak without considering your offer but sober enough from your episode that you managed to pull yourself together to go back where you came from.

Aureo insisted on giving you a ride back, fretting over getting you home safe. You were drunk enough to accept his ride without worry and sober enough to give him directions.

The guy put his number in your phone when you pulled up to the hotel because you felt the need to make up for the way you ended the night. You wanted a redo. And this way seemed like a common courtesy by now...

Aureo insisted on walking you up to the room, he seemed truly worried over your well being, and that endeared you to him more than you already had been.

"I'll call you, okay?" you promised the guy while you unlocked your hotel door, after thanking him for being so kind and bringing you back. He nodded, those pretty emerald eyes searching yours as you slipped inside after saying goodbye.

The lights were off in the tiny common area, and you focused all your energy on creeping back to your room without disturbing the peace. You failed by running into the corner, steadying yourself with a whine as you opened your bedroom door.

"Are you alright?"

You were caught.

"Sorry if I woke you up." You spoke low, even though there was no point in keeping quiet now that George was standing near your side, speaking gently to you.

"You're back quite early," George went on, seeming worried over how you sulked in the doorway after pushing open your bedroom door.

"Yeah... I just don't feel good." You admitted. But you didn't feel sick anymore. You just felt tired. You actually felt a lot like you had when you'd drank too much before, when your head filled up and nothing made sense.

With a gentle, "Come on." George pushed you further into your bedroom. You slumped onto the unmade bed, unlacing your shoes in an impressive hurry. George was gone when you looked up again, tossing each shoe across the room. You fell against your pillows with a sorry groan, shutting your eyes, and wondering if you'd made some kind of mistake tonight.

That's when George shuffled back in, quiet as a mouse. You kept your eyes shut, but heard him rest a glass of water on your bedside table. The sound of your door creaking shut made your heart sink.

When you thought to yourself how badly you wished George would have stayed by your side, you realized the depths of the shit you were in. You realized exactly why you felt so bad. You couldn't ignore it anymore.

You wanted so much more from George, and he was already giving you more than you deserved.

───※ ·❆· ※───

[a-heart-inscribed]

Girls Like You

Hey everyone. This was written for @kaunis-sielu‘s Music challenge! My song was Girls Like You by Maroon 5 (I requested it from my personal blog, @a-heart-adorned). Sorry it’s so late lovely, I’ve had a lot going on. This is actually the third version. The first I scrapped. The second is 14,932 words and I felt weird doing a multi chapter for this (but I might post that later since it is complete). And here is this one. Hope you all enjoy!

Marvel- Captain America

Reader insert- Steve Rogers x Reader

Word count: 2,035

Sitting back on the couch you press play on your move and settle in with the big bowl of fresh popcorn. It was going to be just you tonight, so you broke out your most comfortable pair of sweat pants and a baggy tee. The movie was about ten minutes in when there was a knock at your door. You paused the movie to listen and sure enough there was another knock.

You couldn’t help but feel a little leery because everyone you were close to who would know where to come to find you was busy tonight. Glancing at your room you make a quick stop in there to retrieve the hand gun a friend had given you and trained you with in case anything happened.

Moving to the door you positioned yourself, gun held at the ready. You jumped as another knock came. “Hello? Who is it?” You question, cocking the gun.

“Hey, it’s me. Sorry to surprise you.”

You know that voice and instantly un-arm the gun. Swinging the door open you look out. “Steve? What’s up? I thought you were on a date tonight…”

He takes you in with a bit of shock that slowly spreads to a grin. “Nice to see you putting Bucky’s gift to good use. Think I was a bad guy?”

You shrug. “No idea. I just knew all of you were busy tonight, Avengers stuff or personal stuff, and no one else should have been swinging by.” You move into your apartment and gesture for him to follow. “Come on in.”

“Well good thinking, about the gun. But next time, even if you recognize the voice, it’s probably a good idea to keep the gun ready and set before you answer.” He closes the door behind him and follows you towards the couch. “Just in case the real guys know how to use us against you.”

“Point taken.” You fold your legs under yourself as you sit, inviting him to join you. “So, again, what brings you by?”

He huffs as he sits next to you, taking some popcorn out of your bowl and eating it before responding. “Sharon and I broke up.”

“What?”

He nodded and ate a little more. “I showed up to pick her up and she wasn’t ready. She said we needed to talk.”

“Oh, that’s never good.”

“Yeah. Basically, she said we needed to be fair to both of us and that my heart wasn’t in it…” He glances at you quickly then looks away, “And some other stuff, too. But yeah. We’re done.”

“Steve I’m sorry…” Patting his shoulder you stand and hand him the popcorn. “This calls for more than popcorn, however. I’ll be right back. Want me to start the movie over?”

That is how you end up spending the evening, watching a movie, eating ice-cream straight from the pint, and emotionally supporting Steve Rogers, the Captain America, and your best friend. By the end of the movie he ends up with his head in your lap as you play with his hair. You two had always been comfortable with each other, something you know had bothered your romantic partners in the past and something you feel might have affect Steve’s as well. Since the day he walked into the coffee shop that you used to work at though the two of you had just clicked.

As the credits start to roll Steve sits up. “Well, I guess it’s getting late and I should go.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Steven. We are going to put on another movie and relax here. You just went through a break up and I intend to fully support you through it.”

“Honestly. Y/n, I’m not even that upset over it. I mean… Sharon was right. My heart wasn’t in it.”

“Still, you invested time and energy there. It is okay to mourn the loss of that. Plus, I like spending time with you, and it isn’t even that late, old man.”

He laughs and consents and the two of you have a pleasant evening in.

You’re surprised that he actually does take the breakup really well. Over the next few days you spend as much time with him as possible to try and be there fore him. It’s easy considering now you work at the Avengers tower, Tony had liked you and offered you a job, but still. Steve doesn’t really appear phased. In fact, he seems more himself and happy than before. You never though Sharon was bad for him, maybe a bit boring, but you start to think maybe this was for the best.

A few days late the two of you pick up lunch from one of the team’s favorite cafés. Steve does most of the work carrying almost all of the bags as you walk along. You label each team mate’s favorite meal and get them in the fridge for when they get back from their missions, training, and other work. Steve and you sit down to enjoy the specialty sandwiches you picked.

After a laps on conversation Steve gets a thoughtful look on his face before addressing you. “Y/n, why haven’t you dated anyone since you broke up with Colin last year?”

You almost inhale the bite of sandwich in your mouth and start coughing on it. “Wh- What?” You manage to choke out.

“Oh God. I’m sorry, you okay?” After you nod in the affirmative and down some water to stop the coughing he goes on. “Sorry, it’s just something I notice and… I wondered. Pretty, sweet girl like you… There has to be others interested. Sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”

Watching him as he blushes and looks down at his food you wonder. Was Colin right when he told you it was over because you were in love with Steve? “No, it’s alright. I guess it’s just that… the right one isn’t interested.”

Steve furrows his brow for a moment then nods. “Well then, he’s an idiot.”

Blushing you chuckle. “I guess… Are you interested in dating someone else after Sharon?”

He gawks at you slightly. “Oh! No… I…” He pauses for a moment as Tony walks in and the others start to join you. “Just no.” He finishes.

“Alright…” You change the subject when Peter Parker plops down one side of you, thanking you for lunch, and Loki on the other. Bucky joins Steve and soon your surrounded.

This conversation doesn’t come up again and you chalk it up to Steve trying to process his breakup.

A few months later you are hanging out with Steve in the team’s Livingroom watching a movie Steve had never seen before. The team and just returned from a pretty large mission and most had decided to just turn in for the night. Buck and Tony were up, one working out and one improving his tech, but other than that the two of you were alone. Steve said he had wanted the distraction to help get out of his head and had picked an easy movie. Aladdin.

Somewhere near the middle you move over closer to Steve to get warm. The heat of summer was fading, and it could get down right chilly fast, even in the tower.

Steve gives you a half grin after he looks at you from the corner of his eye and holds up his arm, gesturing you to move in close. After he puts his arm around your shoulder and pulls you in you start to adjust and snuggle into his side. The grimace that crosses his face doesn’t go unnoticed, nor does the way his side tenses up.

“Steve, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing Doll. Let’s just watch the movie.”

You pause it. “Steve.”

He just looks at you, trying to feign innocence.

“You promised.” Sighing you move to sit on the table in front of him. “Take off your shirt.”

He blushes a brilliant red before stammering. “Really I’m okay. It’s nothing.”

“Steven Grant Rogers, take off your shirt now, before I have to come over there and do it for you.”

The color drains a little from his face but his ears are still flaming red as he looks at you for a moment, mouth slightly parted and a million things flashing behind his eyes. Finally he swallows and nods. He sighs and looks away as he pulls it up enough to show you the gash on his side. It wrapped around from his back, just below his shoulder blade, down and around to the front above his hip bone. Several bruises surrounded it.

“Shit, Steve. You promised you were alright.”

“I am. It’s already way better. I’m a Super Solider, remember? I heal fast.”

“Still, did Banner or Strange look at this?”

“Both.”

“And?”

“They cleaned it up. Said to clean it again sometime to night and maybe put some dressings on it before bed and I should be pretty good by morning.”

Shaking your head, you get up to go get the first aid kit.

“What are you doing?” He asks as you sit back down next to him.

Slowly pushing his arm out of the way and making him lean forward a little you respond. “What does it look like? I’m cleaning and dressing this.”

“Y/n…” He stats to protest.

“Stop. Now behave.”

With a sigh he complies and pulls his shirt off. Somehow you forgot that cleaning this wound would get you up close and personable with Steve’s exposed torso and you have to fight to keep your cool. Holy hell, he’s beautiful. It takes 20 minutes to clean it up well and make sure all of it is well covered.

Steve pulls his shirt back on when you are done and turns to you. “Thank you, Doll. I appreciate the help.”

Nodding and trying not to blush you rush to stand and put the kit away. Unlucky for you, when you rush you tend to get a little clumsy, which Steve knows well as he often has to save you from yourself, and right now is no exception. You trip first over your own foot and then over Steve’s. He’s so fast, as always, and moves to break your fall. That is how you end up sitting in his lap, side against his chest, one arm around his neck and his around your waist.

“Hey you.” He smiles down at you and your face heats with a blush. Damn it.

“He- Hey.” You can’t take your eyes of his. “Thank you.” You whisper, not moving an inch.

Steve stares at you a bit, eyes moving over to take you in. Slowly shaking his head he sighs. “God, I’m the idiot, aren’t I?”

It takes you a moment to realize what he is talking about, and when you do you can barely get out one word. “Yeah.”

“I was hoping you’d say that.” He gives you a cheeky grin. “Truth is… I always was interested. I didn’t know how to tell you without screwing this up.”

You blink up at him for a moment and then suddenly his lips are on yours. It only takes a moment for you to respond by tightening your arms around him and kissing him back. Steve moves one hand to the back of your neck, entwining his fingers into your hair. His kiss is easy and slow, passionate and reverent all at once. As his hand moves slowly along your side you moan softly, and he swallows it hungrily and grips your hip.

You almost jump out of your skin and the two of you pull apart when someone clears their throat. Both of you find Bucky and Tony standing at the top of the few steps going up into the kitchen. They are both smirking at you and Bucky shapes his head a bit.

“That’s disgusting. I think I lost my appetite.” Tony says with a grin that lets you know he actually was over the moon. “And Banner owes me ten bucks.”

Bucky is still shaking his head and chuckles, “About damn time, punks.”

You shake you head and lean against Steve’s chest, embraced and overjoyed all at once.

“Yeah,” Steve says as he kisses the top of your head. “About time.”