#cxp1k

[anika-ann]

Grease and Pearls - Pt.1

Uptown Meets Downtown

Type: One-shot turned three-shot (because does anyone really want a 17k in one go?)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader (main), Tony/Reader, Tony/Pepper

Word count: 5230

Summary:  All you know is uptown; fancy clothes, expensive cars, jewellery outshining one’s personality and exhausting dinners with family acquaintances and business partners. Your life is all planned out; one day, you’ll marry Howard Stark’s son and you’ll be the golden couple adored by press.

You desperately seek to see life outside this suffocating glitz...and that’s how you meet Steve Rogers.

A/N: for a challenge hosted by @cxptain Congratulation to your milestone, you deserve nothing less! Thank you for hosting this amazing challenge and allowing me to take part in it! ...I’m not sure how 80′s this is :(

Prompt: Uptown Girl by Billy Joel

A/N 2: I added links to a pic of dresses I had in mind, feel free to ignore them or not :))

Warnings: swearing, mention of arranged marriage, ...fluff?

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Your sigh was drowned in the sea of voices as you slipped under the surface, the water closing above your head. The moment you opened your mouth to gasp for air, it filled with water instead, and you reached out to the sun glimmering above, trying to save yourself--

To be entirely honest, now you were being dramatic; however, shall anyone exchange places with you, you were sure they would feel the same about the company of artificial people in their best Sunday suits and fancy dress, sitting around the table pretending to be engaged in the small talk.

As your eyes fell on man seated opposite to you, a bowtie around his neck, one corner of his lips raised in a blend of a smile and a smirk, your mind drifted to your wonderful friend. 

Virginia Potts, or Pepper for short, a nickname saved for her friends only, would be much better of a match for Anthony than you. She was nothing short of a proper lady and her parents, while not as wealthy as yours, were much more liberal and supportive of her following her dreams. Pepper Potts was about to turn tables and start her own company from a scratch, businessmen be damned. Her mind was brilliant, her persona enchanting, her appearance turning heads wherever she went and her heart was overflowing with kindness and determination. She was about to make people question the very definition of doing business once she set her foot in the field.

Your parents’ thinking, on the other hand, froze in the sixties, maybe forties. You were meant to become a glorified housewife, albeit educated enough to teach her own kids. You never really minded that; it wasn’t what laid heavy in your mind. Anthony did.

Anthony’s parents were as strict as yours, never quite giving him a choice but to take over the family company and wickedly join it with your father’s by tying your families together one day.

Your future family and your love life were to be based on a business deal. The romance of it.

Tony wasn’t an unlikable person by any means; a genius, somewhat charming in his own slightly arrogant way, he even made for an entertaining company at times. Nevertheless, your affections for him couldn’t begin to even hope to grow beyond friendship. On top of that, it just happened to come that while he was meant to be in the charge of to-be-his company, his interest laid further in the progress of technology itself, in designing things, rather than in attending board meetings.

In other words; Pepper would have been a better match for Tony, much better equipped to lead an enterprise than you and Tony together and oh, let’s not forget, her feelings for Tony went beyond friendly, unlike yours. And they were mutual.

But here you were, sitting through another forcefully polite dinner with the Starks and you wanted to be anywhere but here-- you wanted to be somewhere where you could actually breathe.

As you inhaled shakily and possibly too loud for a lady, your sister Sharon shot you a scolding look. You wanted to scream. However, like the well-mannered girl you were, you fixed a smile for your guests instead and engaged in meaningless conversation until it was time to prepare for bed; you let Anthony kiss your knuckles in goodbye and ignored your father’s pleased smile that had your chest constricted, your stomach full of ice cubes instead of the butterflies you were supposed to feel when being with your future husband.

Your mother made a joke about Tony soon kissing a ring on your hand and you closed your eyes, swallowing the panic that didn’t leave you until the early hours of the morning, causing you to lose sleep.

Seeing your own exhausted expression in the mirror at the crack of dawn, you came to a decision.

You were to escape the tight bodice of your glamorous life if even for a minute.

And you were sure that your best friend, who happened to live closer to normal part of the city, was about to help you.

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The bell jingled as you entered the diner, black and white tile floor resembling a chessboard, albeit slightly shabby against your heels clicking with each step.

Maximoff’s the place was called and besides the funky chessboard floor, the interior was in warm colours, walls painted apricot, the counters, bar, tables, stools and chairs in caramel tones. Your lips automatically spread in a smile as you looked around, heading to the counter built right next to a bar, your eyes running over the specials of the day. As most of the names didn’t feel familiar, you took a mental note to kiss Pepper’s hands once you would reunite in the gallery where she was momentarily alone, providing you an alibi while you sneaked out.

“What’s a pretty thing like ya’ doin’ here? Ya’ lost, dollface?” a male voice startled you and your head snapped the direction it came from, finding a man dressed in a short-sleeved shirt with a strange logo of an eagle on his pocket and jeans. Chin-length brown hair framed his face, stubble rounding his smirking lips, his pale blue-grey eyes fixed on you.

He didn’t seem like he wanted to harm you, but the way he talked seemed strange and the fact you weren’t even sure if he talked to you made you uneasy. Dollface? Who called a woman that? Who called that anyone for that matter?

You smiled at him reluctantly, your heart speeding up. A sigh sounded next to him, out of your view, and another man spoke up, scolding the brunet.

“Lay off, Buck. You’re scaring the dame.”

The owner of the voice leaned away from the bar, his kind blue eyes and inviting expression causing your breath to hitch. Gosh, he was pretty with that subtle smile and ruffled blond hair. You figured they were colleagues since he was dressed in the same manner. You felt a bit inappropriate in your almost knee-length sunflower dress; you were sticking out like a sore thumb. The women in this diner sure weren’t dressed like you.

“Do you need any help?” the blond asked, his tone gentler and less challenging than Buck’s, , instantly putting you at ease; well, as much at ease as you could feel visiting a downtown diner for the first time, on your own, no less.

Your smile grew firmer, more confident, as you beckoned towards the menu above.

“Uhm… perhaps with picking the meal?”

The brunet raised a curious eyebrow at your question. “You want to eat here?”

Yes, you were definitely sticking out and you weren’t the only one to take notice.

“…yes.”

Nervous under his gaze, your eyes flickered to the blond, who seemed equally surprised, tilting his head aside.

“Well, what do you have in mind?” he asked simply.

You only shrugged in response and the brunet rolled his eyes and sighed, wiping his fingers to the napkin near his empty plate.

“Looks like I’m not needed here,” he grumbled and rose to his feet, patting his friend’s shoulder. “Just remember, Stevie, boss’ gonna kill ya’ if you’re more than half an hour late.”

What did that mean?

“Noted,” Stevie huffed a laugh and waved him off.

“Better get outta here sooner than later, can’t run as fast as Maximoff-“

“Yeah, yeah-“

“I better heard that name in a compliment!” a female voice from the door with ‘personnel only’ behind the counter suddenly called out, once again starling you.

“Sure thing, Mrs.M! See ya’!” Buck shouted right back at her as he jogged to the door and you noticed that the woman behind the counter and Stevie weren’t the only ones with their eyes on you, the realization making you shiver on the inside.

“You know what? Let’s sit somewhere else, everyone’s staring. You can check out the complete menu and the waitress will come to us,” the blond offered, already standing up and beckoning to one of the booths.

You felt yourself relax, the ever-present smile on his lips assuring you he had no malicious intent – or you hoped so.

“Sure. Thank you.”

You seated yourself opposite to him, hidden from the majority of the prying eyes as he pushed the menu your way.

“I honestly have no idea what most of this means,” you admitted before even opening the menu, watching the relaxed aura around Stevie instead as he all but melted into the cushions. It bugged you in a way, seeing as his friend had made a certain remark earlier. “…no one is going to try and kill you, right? I would hate to-”

He barked a laugh, small wrinkles appearing at the corners of his eyes and your heart skipped a beat, mesmerized when you simultaneously noticed that his nose was dusted with freckles. He was such a handsome man and he radiated pure amusement as he laughed, simply and carefree. Despite being ashamed at being the source of his amusement, you marvelled at the fact you were the cause of the happy sound.

“Ya’ think ‘dat-- that here downtown, people get iced for being late for work? Is ‘dat the bullshit they feed ya’?” You blinked at his words, unsure you understood his strange lingo. Stevie shook his head, the corner of his lips still twitching. “I meant killed. And nonsense, the nonsense they feed you.”

“They mostly don’t feed me anything about downtown and what life really is here…” you confessed with a sigh, spotting the woman from behind the counter making her way to you, red apron swinging a bit with her step.

“Good morning, almost afternoon! Oh, Steve, some dame you have here! Finally! Not sure we have enough fancy for her though,” she greeted you enthusiastically, her speech ending with a slight thoughtful pout.

You swallowed the indignation at her assumption and smiled at her. “I… um, I don’t need anything fancy, madam. At all, actually.”

“You heard that? Madam! You keep this one close, Steve!”

“Hey! I’m polite!” the blond protested, a twinkle of humour in his eye. “Can we have the least fancy thing for the lady, then? And a strawberry milkshake? Ya’ alright with strawberries? It’s the best one…”

The woman, Mrs.M as Buck had called her, wrote down the order in her little notepad when you only nodded, dumb-struck when Stevie – Steve? – ordered for you. “Coming right up! You want anything else, Stevie?

“Just a refill, please?” he looked up pleadingly and the woman sighed, patting his head.

“You’re addicted, hon, I feel sorry for your stomach. I’ll bring the pot.”

“You’re an angel, Anna.”

“Yeah, yeah…” she mumbled as she walked away.

Steve laid his very much muscular forearms on the table, leaning in, giving you his undivided attention.  “So… what’s your name, doll?”

Unlike with Bucky, Steve’s endearment somehow made your belly warm, your gaze lowering at his soft tone. You introduced yourself quietly and forced yourself to look up again – you were not raised by wolves, after all – and offered him a hand to shake, rising from your seat just a inch.

To your surprise, your companion gently took your fingers and turned your hand, kissing the back of it. As in, actually kissing it, his lips brushing your skin, his gaze locked with yours, stealing the breath from your lungs and making your rear fall back into your seat in surprise.

Who knew the downtown boys could be so charming?

“Pretty name for a pretty gal,” he commented. “So, what brings ya’ here?”

“…lunch? I told you?”

He clicked his tongue discontentedly at your poor excuse – it wasn’t exactly a lie, but… “Bad liar. Kinda like me.”

Was that right? Was he as innocent and honest as his eyes had been telling you ever since you noticed him behind Bucky? So far, he was nothing but nice to you. He could be your partner in crime – and you don’t lie to partners, especially when you’re a bad liar in the first place. You shifted in your seat, inhaled deeply and told him your dark secret.

“I just… I needed a change of scenery.”

His smile turned into a solid grin, mischief playing in his blue irises now, accenting the drop of green in them you hadn’t noticed before. “Well… looks like ya’ came to the right place.”

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One of the things Steve really liked about Maximoff’s was the domestic atmosphere. It was a family diner, one started by immigrants and yet not missing anything from the American way anyone could big mouth about. It was familial, relaxed yet with efficient staff and people practically knew each other by name – the regulars did at least.

Which meant that the stunning girl in sunflower dress who walked in wearing elegant high heels turned heads instantly, both in a good and bad way. Steve found the absurd figure both amusing and fascinating; she appeared utterly lost in her well-mannered way, her skirt brushed the tights just above her knees, catching an eye of me than one guy- and really, Steve had trouble not staring as well, but he at least attempted to.

Bucky, not so much.

Steve had to give it to her though – she was adorably startled when Buck opened his big mouth and tried to flirt with her… if that was what it was supposed to be, but she didn’t run out of the door just yet, even trying for a polite talk.

Cute. How could Steve go back to work knowing this remarkable creature was in his favourite diner? They would eat her alive, serve her like the next special!

Alright, that was a bit of an overstatement, but still.

And now, seeing her eyes widen as Wanda, the owner’s daughter and the twin sister to Steve’s colleague, placed a huge hamburger in front of the woman who simply couldn’t be from around here – uptown, if Steve guessed correctly – he knew he wouldn’t miss it for the world.

Luckily for him, not missing it still meant keeping his job, because they didn’t wait long. It was another thing Steve loved around here – they were quick, ready for the onslaught of hungry customers around noon, so ready that the pair barely exchanged few words before they were served food and the sinful strawberry milkshake—and thank fuck- coffee.

He sipped at the hot bitter liquid, hiding his smile at the curious, desperate and utterly adorable expression on the girl’s face as she was trying to figure out how the hell she should eat that. But because he felt a bit sorry for her too – she never had a hamburger, had she, how was she even alive – he lowered the cup and took mercy upon her.

“Ya’ just need to take it to your hands, bite and hope for the best that your cute dress won’t get a new colour on it,” Steve remarked, not bothering to keep a straight face. “Just dig in, uptown.”

She huffed, clearly slightly irked at his jab, but obediently placed her fingers to the sides of the burger and brought it to her red-painted lips. Steve settled comfortably to his seat, a coffee and a free comedy show with the prettiest actress he had ever laid his eyes on playing right in front of him.

“So… why did ya’ need a change?” he brought up after few moments, watching her reaction to the taste, a pleasant surprise on her face, a drop of grease in the corner of her lips. His fingers twitched on the cup with the need to wipe it away from her otherwise perfectly cleaned up face.  

He liked her face – it wasn’t hidden under tones of shiny coloured shit girl used these days.

She swallowed first, shaking her head, but never letting her food from her hands as if someone could steal it before she finished. Steve felt that on spiritual fucking level.

“It is a complicated issue,” she said, dodging the question. Steve fought the urge to roll his eyes.

“Try me.”

And with a sigh, she did, even when averting his gaze, lost in thought.

“You don’t know what’s like. All those… strained faces, smiling and nodding when asked to even if you don’t agree… not even being able to scratch your nose during dinner without people looking at you like you insulted them, their children and grandchildren that aren’t even born yet…“

Steve blinked at the waterfall of words, not expecting her to actually share that much. He only managed to stare at the embodiment of a good obedient uptown girl – minus the burger – while processing her words.

They sounded… not right. He never thought of it that way. His ma’ worked tooth and nail to keep them fed and he gave up going to art school for the very same reason. Hearing this girl, who was probably blessed with enough money to bath in it, complain about her life… was strange and frankly insulting, but when he thought of it, she did list some quite unpleasant downsides.

Gee. What people did to keep the picture perfect up. Can’t scratch her nose.

“Oh my, you must think I am a complete brat,” she exclaimed into the silence that fell on their table and Steve winced, both startled and pleasantly surprised. The self-awareness in her. “Spoiled privileged girl who doesn’t appreciate how lucky she is not having to work sixteen hours a day to feed herself and her family. Gosh, I am a terrible person, I’m sorry for rambling.”

Seeing her so self-depreciating caused a smile to spread on Steve’s face once more. Self-awareness indeed, realization in the purest form.

Where the hell did she come from?

She was… an odd egg, that was for sure. Steve certainly liked that and he hated seeing her with her lips turned downwards; so he spoke what was on his mind, as he always did.

“No… no. I think I understand… to a point.”

“Likely story,” she uttered, taking an angry bite of the hamburger.

So fucking adorable when angry – if that was what she called it. Steve could kiss that pouty lip of hers.

“I do!” he protested, raising his hands palms up and gesturing to her subtly to show he saw her point. “And for the record, I promise you – you can scratch your nose all you want with me.”

The smile she gave him could power a damn city, even if it wasn’t necessarily radiant – just very, very sweet and almost shy. “Thank you, Steve. I—never mind. Do you… have family?”

Steve, taken aback by her question, hesitated only for a moment. She had been honest, he should too. And to his genuine surprise, he enjoyed talking to her, so why ruin that with making shit up?

“Nope. Ma’ passed away few years ago. Dad’s been gone a while. Just Buck and guys from my shop.”

“I’m sorry. Really. I can’t imagine.”

He shrugged it off, ignoring the pang in his heart – the loss of his mother, only few years prior, still hurt. He missed her – she was an incredible woman and the kindest mother.

“That’s life. But thanks. You?”

“Both parents and—” she started off reluctantly, but then downright sighed. ”-a sister.”

“Don’t sound too excited about it,” Steve remarked sarcastically and she sighed again, putting her unfinished food away, frowning at it. “Full already?”

“It’s huge!”

“Gimme. No food comes to waste on my watch. Drink your milkshake,” he hummed, pulling the plate to his side of the table, much to her obvious astonishment – and was that a hint of amusement? – and took a bite. She shook her head, wiping her mouth with careful taps of a napkin, but was totally grinning at his actions, which left him unfairly giddy. “Ya’ were sayin’? About your family? More like your sister ya’ don’t exactly love?”

Steve almost choked when the smile slipped from her lips, mentally cursing himself.

“I know, I know! Once again – terrible person, I am aware. And I do like her, she’s family,” she said quickly as if to save the situation and prove she could treat her sister properly. Steve found the ‘she’s a family’ a bit of a learned phrase, utter shit, but he’d listen to more. “It’s just… Sharon… she’s the younger sister, but she is… perfect. Everyone thinks so. And she is! I swear I am not jealous, but… I wish I had more of a sister and less of an omnipresent perfect lady to tell me my hair doesn’t look good today at every occasion.”

Steve deliberately took a long nice look at her hairstyle. There was not one hair out of place on her head. She had some sort of an elaborate braid on her head Steve couldn’t hope to understand, making her look like a princess – well, kinda like a queen even, but her young face and playful and elegant dress wouldn’t make for a serious and grey sovereign. Princess it was.

“Was ‘dat today?” Steve asked, wiping his fingers to a napkin as he finished her meal and took a large gulp of coffee.

“Yes… again.”

His eyebrow slowly rose, sceptical and pitying. And kinda mad at people who ever told her she was anything but perfect. Beautiful. Stunning. Adorable.

“Well, no offence, doll, but your sis sounds like she should ease up on the bitch juice and have her eyes checked. Your hair’s fine, this whole…” he gestured vaguely to her head, “complicated thing ya’ did with it, is pretty like the rest of ya’.”

He should probably ease up on the compliments, but he couldn’t help himself. She seemed flustered at it and he loved it. She was cute. Her only flaw was that her hair wasn’t loose – Steve would like to see what she looked like, wild hair to run fingers through--

“…thank you. What is, eh, bitch juice?”

Steve chuckled when called out on his mistake. “Nothing really, means she shouldn’t be mean to ya’. Probably shouldn’t say ‘dat home, tho.”

Her smile made its return, sweet, shy and happy as she learned something new. “I will keep it in mind. Thank you for sweeping in, taking me under your wing here. You are a great company. I like you.”

Steve would deny it till the day he’d die, but that moment, his chest puffed with fucking pride. She liked him. Take that, Barnes! Take that, uptown snobs! She liked HIM.

“Well, if ya’ ever come to downtown ever again-“ he sort-of joked, the realization that this was very likely to be a one-time thing settling heavy in his stomach.

He wasn’t kidding anyone – he liked her too. A lot. Even when she was bitching; or maybe because of that, in addition to her 100% cutesy and pretty face… and figure.

“Would you meet me?” she asked excitedly, eyes lighting up with joy, which… Steve didn’t see coming.

“Uhm-- sure. If ya’ wanted.”

“Next Tuesday? What time?” she pried, sipping happily at the remnants of her milkshake. Nope, not the visual he needed—dammit.

Wait, what did she just say?

“You’re serious?” he asked incredulously, earning a shrug and a soft smile.

“You are funny and nice… and handsome.” Well, his ego just levitated through the ceiling, he wasn’t gonna lie- “I told you I liked you. Does that… mean something different here?”

He felt his lips curl up in a gentle smile at her slight confusion. She sounded so innocent. Steve’s heart could melt – and she already had him wrapped around her finger, which he surprisingly didn’t mind.

“No, doll, means the same thing. I like you too,” he assured her. “Gotta run, tho. Ya’ get home alright?”

“Yes. I only have to walk to the gallery nearby. I should go too…. Do I pay at the counter or somewhere-?”

“Nope. I do,” Steve interrupter her inspection of the diner and she swiftly rose to her feet.

“Oh no, I couldn’t possibly-“

“Lemme treat a pretty girl, ‘k?”

The words were out of his mouth before he could think better of them – but if he had, his reaction would be exactly the same. This might have not been a proper date, but no matter how much more money she no doubt had, Steve’s ma’ would box his ear if he let the lady pay.

The fact she casted her gaze down, shy at his supposed chivalry, was only a pleasant bonus. He could kiss her at that moment, so friggin’ beautiful and shy, and possibly interested.

“You say that a lot,” she whispered, glancing up at him from under her long eyelashes, tiny smile playing on her lips.

Steve shrugged it off and headed for the counter before he could act on impulse and actually pull her in to smack his mouth to hers.

“Just sayin’ the truth. Six p.m. works for ya’?”

She hummed as he paid for her and his coffee. “I will make it work.”

That was good enough for him as he offered this very place to meet.

Once they left the diner, she managed to take him aback once more when she rose to her tiptoes – a heroic act in her pumps – and pressed a soft chaste kiss on his cheek before saying a simple goodbye and began to walk the opposite direction than him.

Steve was grinning like a fool for the rest of the day and not even Bucky’s wiggling eyebrows could ruin his mood.

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Sleepovers were for children, you had been told by your mother more than once; so you claimed that what you were going to do with Pepper would be a girls’ night (women’ night?) and she suddenly seemed ecstatic, because Pepper was a fashion goddess and you still had a lot to learn about being chic.

You didn’t even care for the insult, as you were not about to spend time with your friend. No, Pepper was only kind enough to help you out and plot against the evil forces of uptown, covering for you while you’d be having a—a date with Steve. The week couldn’t past fast enough.

But finally you were here, wearing a pink dress – if a bit too chaste, but practical for a summer evening – with decorative black buttons, short sleeves and a bow around your waist, hair styled by the ‘fashion goddess’ who lived up to her title and charmed two French braids on your head. You were nearly jumping on spot, looking around subtly from time to time – you still had two minutes to spare.

So you stood there, trying not to tap your foot – which was really tempting, the elegant flats with an inch-tall heel making tapping much more easier than your usual pumps – and politely smiled at each person passing you.

When you caught a glimpse of a tall blonde figure, your smile widened into an honest one. He was even more handsome than you remembered – and he reciprocated the smile upon seeing you, his eyes not-so-subtly travelling up and down your figure. He was wearing simple blue t-shirt, one that hugged his muscular figure tightly, causing your mind to wander into strange places, and a pair of jeans – a simple outfit that he clearly felt comfortable in, a backpack slung over one of his broad shoulders.

“Wow. I feel underdressed now. And we might have to change plans,” he said upon greeting you, deep timber that haunted you in your sweetest dreams.

You subconsciously crumbled your skirt between your fingers, your smile faltering as you suddenly felt self-conscious and disappointed that you didn’t dress to his liking – or to fittingly to his plans.

“Oh, no! Should I run and change?”

Steve instantly shook his head, taking a hold of your hand, bringing it to his lips. Your cheeks heated up, your heart speeding up at his affection.

“Absolutely not. You look beautiful,” he opposed, giving you a once-over again, his blue eyes twinkling.

“Thank you. You too--handsome, I mean.”

And he was. Gosh. And that ruffled hair of his-! How did you want to run your fingers through it—and not to give a damn about such action being inappropriate.

“Thanks. I—uh, I was plannin’ for a small trip with… a bit of climbin’, which was stupid, I know-“ he stumbled over his words, scratching the back of neck sheepishly, clearly having absolutely no clue how giddy you had been – and still were – for spending the time with him in any form.

You cleared your throat. “How much climbing?”

“Not too much…? It would be safe, I promise. But I’m worried about your dress-“

“I’m not!” you blurted out, covering your mouth in embarrassment at your hastiness.

Steve didn’t seem to mind; in fact, a slow mischievous grin spread on his lips, beckoning you to follow him.

“Then come with me if ya’ wanna know what it’s like to live.”

The sentence was rather ironic; before you knew it, you were sitting nearly on the edge of a damn roof, precisely 37 storeys above the ground, on a building that wasn’t even finished yet.

Apparently, Buck’s – Bucky’s – uncle worked as construction manager, which opened you the doors to one of the unfinished additions to New York’s skyline. Some storeys you had to indeed climb, but with Steve’s support, you had felt ridiculously safe, grateful for thinking to bring flats instead of usual attire – and the reward was absolutely worth it.

Seeing the sunset, sitting on a picnic blanket after finishing simple sandwiches and a lemonade, you felt like you had the world at your feet.

It was breath-taking, for the lack of better term, enough to bring tears to your eyes.

Never in your life you had felt so… light. So free. Despite the heights you found yourself in, you had never breathed more easily. And as sentimental it might sound… you were sure it didn’t only went down to not being under scrutiny from your family and those bigheads who thought that they had a claim on the world, hence claim on you too-- no, you could tell with absolute certainty that at least part of this liberating feeling went down to the person sitting next to you, staring with you at the sunset and the lights of the city coming to life, flashing neons shining in the streets.

Your hand blindly reached for his, covering the back of it, feeling the slight roughness of his knuckles and skin – a hand of a workman. He didn’t retreat, but you could feel his gaze shifting to you.

“Thank you for taking me here, Steve,” you whispered, a tender breath of wind carrying your voice to a faraway place, to a dreamland. You couldn’t tear your eyes from the marvellous scenery. “It’s… it’s so beautiful.”

“Yeah,” he murmured, his hand shifting under yours, escaping your hold, fingers running up your arms to nestle on your jaw, gently cradling, causing your breathing to hitch, your heart speeding up to a at least a hundred per minute. “You are, doll.”

You turned to him, melting in his touch, and while you saw his face inching closer to yours, nerves working, regretting your inexperience, not for a split second you thought of retreating.

When Steve’s lips met yours, all rational thought left your mind, carried away by the sweet breeze of summer.

Girls’ night never felt so magical.

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Part 2

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Tags: @wxstedhexrt, @comicshoplife, @elysianecho, @scentedsongrebel, @orions-nebula, @pies-wands-and-more (I know you didn’t ask explicitly, but I can take a hint)

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I’m almost embarrassed to say that it turned out, once again, much much longer than I intended. But some might box my ears if I did, so... yay?

Credit for the fic title and chapter title goes to @queen-kass-the-writer​ - thank you!

And thank you for reading!

[mysterioh]

Hey there lovelies, it’s me ya girl. I hit 1000 followers a few days ago which is absolutely insane! I started in January and never expected to receive so much love from everyone. I appreciate every single one of you.  🤧💕

The theme for this challenge (if it’s not obvious enough with the obnoxious banner) is the 1980s! All of the prompts are from music and movies of the iconic decade! Don’t ask me why I picked it, because I don’t know.

Please participate it took me forever to find some of these.

Rules

Due by August 9th, 2020 (I’m forcing you into giving me a birthday gift 🥰) 

Don’t have to be following but you can if you want to...

Two people per prompt. 

NO freaky stuff. Underage/Inc*st/Noncon/Dubcon. Leave it at the door sis we don't want it. 

Must be tagged appropriately! If you have explicit content please tag it as 18+ for young readers.

It must be at least 500 words. No word limit. 

Use a Read More tab if needed! 

Please no Social Media AUs.

It can be a drabble, one-shot or new series. 

If you make it a series, tag me in the masterlist and each chapter.

Marvel Characters only (no actors pls) and can be a reader insert, OC, or ship. 

Works don’t have to be based in the 80s but it would be interesting.

Tag me @cxptain and use the tag, #cxp1k so I can track them. If I don’t respond within 24 hours, feel free to message it to me. 

If you would like to participate please send me an ask only. If you want me to answer privately pls indicate that in your message. 

Party on, dudes!

Songs

Tainted Love - Soft Cell (1981)

Africa - Toto (1982)

Billie Jean - Michael Jackson (1982)

Should I Stay or Should I Go? - The Clash (1982)

Every Breath You Take - The Police (1983)

Talking in Your Sleep - The Romantics (1983) - @writeyourmindaway​

Sunglasses at Night - Corey Hart (1983)

Time after Time - Cyndi Lauper (1983)

Total Eclipse of the Heart - Bonnie Tyler (1983)

Uptown Girl - Billy Joel (1983) - @anika-ann​

Out of Touch - Hall and Oates (1984) @fanfictionaries​ w/ Bucky

Wake Me Up Before You Go - Wham! (1984) - @begin-with-a-c​

When Doves Cry - Prince (1984)

Take on Me - a-ha (1985)

Material Girl - Madonna (1985)

Your Love - The Outfield (1985)

How Will I Know - Whitney Houston (1985)

(I Just) Died in Your Arms Tonight - Cutting Crew (1986) 

You Give Love A Bad Name - Bon Jovi (1986)

I Wanna Dance with Somebody - Whitney Houston (1987) - @corneliabarnes​

Movie Quotes

“Snakes! Why did it have to be snakes?” - Indiana Jones: Raiders of the Lost Ark (1981)

“We came. We saw. We kicked its ass.” - Ghostbusters (1984)

“This may sound incredibly dumb...but I love you, and I’ll do anything to make you love me.” - Sixteen Candles (1984)

“When you grow up, your heart dies.” - The Breakfast Club (1985)

"I am desperately and completely in love with you." - St. Elmo's Fire (1985)

"I'm your density, I mean your destiny." - Back to the Future (1985) -@iced-capsicle

“I feel the need, the need for speed.” - Top Gun (1986)

“Life moves fast. You don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.” - Ferris Bueller’s Day Off (1986) - @capsized-heart​

“See that clock on the wall? In five minutes you are not going to believe what I’ve told you.” - Blue Velvet (1986)

“Most of all I’m scared of walking out of this room and never feeling, the rest of my life, the way I feel when I’m with you.” - Dirty Dancing (1987) - @xbuchananbarnes​

“You look good wearing my future.” - Some Kind of Wonderful (1987)

"I can't believe you did it. I was teasing. I loved you. Of course, I was coming up here to kill ya." - Heathers (1988)

“She’s gone. She gave me a pen. I gave her my heart. She gave me a pen.” - Say Anything (1989) 

“Strange things are afoot at the Circle K!” - Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure (1989)

"When you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible." - When Harry Met Sally (1989) @queen-kass-the-writer​ @corneliabarnes​

Going to tag some mutuals to signal boost. (Sorry if you didn’t want to be tagged.) 

@anika-ann​ @kayteewritessteve​ @capsized-heart​ @allandoflimbo​ @corneliabarnes​ @mypassionsarenysins​ @xbuchananbarnes​ @wiensrsoldier​ @writeyourmindaway​ @justreadingfics​ @mccrps​ @allegra-writes​

[anika-ann]

Grease and Pearls - Pt.3

Dreams Meet Reality

Type: One-shot turned three-shot (because does anyone really want a 17k in one go?)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader (main), Tony/Reader, Tony/Pepper

Word count: 3400 or 5100 (yeah, you read it right, see A/N)

Summary: An uptown girl met a downtown guy with a heart of gold. Oh, and he was handsome too. It inevitably leads to their relationship developping… but is there any chance for them at all?

For @cxptain​​ ’s challenge. Prompt: Uptown Girl by Billy Joel

Warnings: swearing (a lot), attempt at angst, ghosting, communication par excellence

A/N: We had fluff and smut. What are we missing? That’s right. Heads up, people! There is an alternate ending to my original one, the one sentence where it breaks is in italics. I hope that makes sense ;) Pick whichever or read both :D Enjoy!

Story Masterlist

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It was bound to happen – you knew as much – but deep in your heart, you had hoped it wouldn’t. You had hoped it would last longer. You had hoped that perhaps a miracle would occur and in some mysterious way, you would be able to convince your parents that marrying you to Anthony was a terrible idea.

You should have known better than that.

The very day you had fell asleep in Steve’s arms after making love – and God, you could still feel him, his touches on your skin, his mouth, everywhere, even in the most intimate places, a pleasant, almost ceremonial ache lingering exactly there, a memory of fire in your belly and your heart – you got caught.

Your parents had been waiting at Potts’ house as you reached it around eleven in the evening, a smiling mess, a sight to behold, and any illusion about the future you had been painting in your mind shattered.

Pepper had tried to take part of the blame, but your parents always believed that you were the faulty daughter in your household and such ways stretched outside your house.

Your father was furious. Your mother was deeply disappointed and even faked a few tears – or perhaps she shed them for real, mourning her reputation, one the family would fight tooth and nail to retain.    

You had literally fallen on your knees and begged when they found a drawing from a street artist, a souvenir of one of your trips to downtown which you had only craved to explore-- and by some miracle indeed, you were allowed to keep it and not to have it torn to shreds right in front of your eyes. Pepper’s teary gaze told you she knew you were making up things up as you went and that the drawing, the one that captured beauty you weren’t sure you possessed, meant much more.

You couldn’t even hope to earn forgiveness, so you only asked for it half-heartedly.

What you did earn was a damn chaperon.

In your age! In this day and age!

Her name was Maria and she was truly efficient and strict to a fault. Nevertheless, she respected your privacy and whenever you were to meet Pepper, she would stand just outside the door and wait if you asked for a confidential conversation… which was always, you didn’t need some goddamned stranger spying on you. What the hell.

But truly, all things considered, you had lucked out; as your parents didn’t fault Pepper for your actions, you were still allowed to meet with her at least and to talk her in private.

However, the marriage plans were sped up.

And naturally, you couldn’t even hope to set your foot anywhere near downtown. You hadn’t seen Steve for two weeks, you hadn’t even found his number in the phone book to explain yourself and you missed him.

Your heart seemed to fail in its basic function; when you were lying in your bed at night, wide awake, it longed after ocean blue eyes with a drop of green, strong hands holding you close, and it wouldn’t stop pounding wildly in your chest. In the morning, your heart appeared to be beating so slowly you had to place your palm over the area to make sure it was still there, that it still had enough strength to keep you upright all day ahead.

And it ached 24 hours a day. For you, for Steve, who must have been clueless on why you never showed up to your set date or any time after. You were hurting and your parents watched you suffer along with your sister, frowning at you and scolding you to stop acting like a five-year old who had a toy taken away.

They could never understand. Was that a curse or a blessing?

Pepper was the only person you could trust, only person you could talk to about your true sorrows and her patience never seemed to wear thin despite her own turmoil – after all, if your marriage was to be sped up… her hopes were being crushed as well.

“Pepper… I don’t want to marry Tony. God, I can’t marry him,” you whispered, a cup of tea in your hands, your palms and fingers curled around the warm ceramics, hoping for it to take away some of the ever-present cold your body radiated these days.

Your friend smiled at you sadly, an honest and heart-breaking lift of the corners of her lips.

“I know, honey.”

You chuckled bitterly at the irony. Here you were, stealing her dreamed man, on she loved, while yearning after another, after the one you loved. You looked up at the ceiling, blinking away the tears gathering in your eyes – again and again, barely a day without their presence. They were always there, ready for the dam to broke so they could run down your cheeks.

When you spoke again, you could barely force the words out of your tight throat.

“I… I truly love Steve. I dreamed tonight, about having a little boy,” you whispered, the image still vivid behind your now closed eyelids. He was so damn pretty, your sweet little boy. “Blond hair, pretty blue eyes full of mischief and such innocent smile with a front tooth missing and I was expecting with another--… I want that. I want to have Steve’s children one day and I want Steve. I need him. It feels like I can’t breathe without him.”

Tender hands reached for your shoulders and pulled you into an embrace, soft and careful, yet very unladylike, not proper for anyone to see in public – at least not here, not in uptown. God, you hated it here. You despised it now, truly. And if that made you an ungrateful brat, then so be it.

“Oh sweety, I know exactly how you feel. I’m so sorry,” Pepper replied in the same manner, comfortingly stroking your arm. She sounded on the verge of tears as well. “But you know what your family is like, they would never accept Steve. As much as it hurts you and me… I’m not sure you really have a choice.”

You swallowed against the lump formed in your throat and shakily breathed in.  

“Don’t I?”

You thought of your chaperon and wondered… just how heartless could she be?

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It was three weeks after his girl’s last surprise visit that had somehow resulted in her and Steve tangled in his sheets when he lost his faith in her and whatever the two of them had had completely.

Three weeks without as much as a glimpse of her or a word, two weeks of not going to bed without few bottles of beer to keep him company, Steve walked into the shop and instantly knew something was wrong.

The usually loud environment full of chatter and teasing was suspiciously quiet.

“Hey guys,” he called out, trying to sound casual. “What gives?”

“Nothing-“ Thor responded swiftly – and way too quickly. Steve rolled his eyes.

“I’m blond but ain’t that stupid. Who pissed in everyone’s cereal? Buck?”

Steve’s best friend looked up from his work, shorty meeting his eyes. The regretful gaze spoke volumes on its own, but the brunet still sighed, tossing the rag in his hands on the nearest hood.

Steve suddenly wasn’t so sure he wanted to hear the news whatever it was. Dread filled his stomach, a feeling that had his gut twist uncomfortably. The blue-grey irises of his friend hid behind his eyelids.

“I… I’ve been in town this morning, Steve,” he explained slowly, cursing under his breath when he took in Steve’s perfectly confused expression, awaiting a metaphorical punch. “Fuck, Steve—I-eh, I saw Carter with Stark and they were-“ The coil in Steve’s stomach tightened to the point of him thinking he might throw up. “-shit, I’m sorry, Steve, they were at jeweller’s, probably picking up a ring.”

A ring.

Right.

Because she was getting married. To Stark. He knew that—he had been, in fact, informed that it might happen at some point.

But no-- like a fool, he had painted an image in his head, stupid and naïve and even found himself thinking about his ma’s engagement ring – once or twice since he had met his stunning uptown girl –, one he had inherited and was planning to give a woman who would take his heart.

Funny how his mind had been purposely leaving out the fact that the very same woman he had given his heart to was the one who could stomp on it and let it bleed on the pavement.

Fuck, he was a complete idiot, wasn’t he?

Steve swallowed against his suddenly dry throat, nodding few times in acknowledgement of the information, lips in a tight line, one corner lifted in an ironic smile as his blood boiled.

“Well… we knew it was comin’, didn’t we?” he remarked and shook his head with a scoff.

God, he was so fucking stupid-

“Steve-“

He waved Bucky off, stalking towards his own station. He dropped his bag, always stashed with clean clothes just in case, to the ground by the counter, hand blindly reaching out. He grabbed the wrench on the top unmistakably, his fingers curling firmly around the metal.

One swift movement, one jerk of his bulging arm and the wrench was sent flying, hitting the momentarily empty chain with an ominous clang that could only hope to echo the mad rage he felt, sizzling in his veins, eating him up from the inside.

“Fuck him!” he roared, the ferocity of his voice startling even his mates who were familiar with his occasional temper.

His breathing turned heavy as he reached for another tool, flinging it the same way, this time hitting the wall, much to his irritation.

Jesus fucking shit-- he was so fucking mad – at her, at himself, at Stark, Stark who thought he could just take and take, greedy asshole, just like all of those uptown snobs that thought they owned the fucking world!  

“Fuck Stark and all of those privileged assholes! I hope they rot in- Fucking! Hell!”

Two more objects Steve didn’t bother to look at flied through the air and hit the chains, the harmless violence not providing him with half the satisfaction he hoped in.

By the time the boss stalked into the shop the check on what was going on – and to yell at his employees to stop fucking around – Steve had been long gone, taking the SHILED bike and driving away until all he could feel was the wind swishing around his head, loud enough to drown out his noisy thoughts.

“Rogers came in sick, we sent him home,” Pietro supplied helpfully, the deadpan expression on Fury’s face telling him that he had none of that shit.

Yet, the bossman sighed and headed back to his office.

“Good, wouldn’t want him to puke all over my fuckin’ garage.”

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She showed up in the shop on week four. Steve was just coming back from a short bathroom break, quickly taking a U-turn when he got a glimpse of her in the overhead door to the garage, wearing black and red elegant dress.

He leaned his back against the separating wall, closing his eyes at the painful jab to his stomach.

Logically, there was no reason for him to be so devastated. He fucked girls before—he liked girls before. So why did he have to be such a missy when it came to her? She was pretty, sure, but there were plenty of cute gals. Steve really tried not to think about the L word they had exchanged, because deep down it had dawned to him a while ago; he was so fucked up because he was in love and then he was dumped by a lady who normally wouldn’t look at him twice, which was something that his brain had been bullheadedly refusing to accept.

“Sorry, he ain’t in today,” Odinson drawled, traces of hostility in his voice.

“Oh,” she sounded surprised and he could picture the gentle confused frown, the slight pout to her lips—shit, those lips tasted like cherry-- "Uhm, do you know when he will be in?”

“Why do ya’ need to know?”

Steve was certain that her frown deepened at Bucky’s words.

“Well, uhm, I need to talk to him, it’s important. Should I come here in few days or-“

“Don’t think he’ll be ‘round here any time soon.”

“Is he alright?” she asked, genuine concern in her voice and it took all of Steve’s willpower not to bang his head against the wall.

Why, just why was she doing this to him? Why would she care?

Now he knew that was cruel to her – he believed that once, she had truly been interested in him – but he told himself multiple times that her looks were deceiving, that she only had been looking for a distraction from her uptight uptown world. Maybe if he told himself enough times, he would start to believe it.

“Ain’t none of your business, princess,” Thor retorted and Steve just knew she winced at the harsh tone, a soft gasp escaping her mouth, that sweet mouth he had  kissed over three weeks ago, sweet, innocent and sinful, the music of her short breaths filling his poor excuse of a loft, keeping him fucking going.

“Nice ring, by the way,” Bucky said nonchalantly.

Steve gulped at that. Yeah, he bet it was; but there was no way Bucky was being polite. The venom dripping from his words was a message on its own.

And she picked up on it, naturally. His –not his anymore, not that she had ever truly been – brilliant beautiful girl.

“Oh. Thank- thank you,” she whispered and Steve had to strain his ears like a creep, catching the crack in her voice; he almost ran out hearing it, ready to comfort her, because God, he couldn’t imagine her crying, salt tears rolling down her rosy cheeks - few had when they had made love, but she had been smiling too.

He was sure that seeing her cry without that smile… it would feel the world was ending. Her eyes were made for shining with happiness, her lips made for laughter-

“The fuck-?“

Steve’s head snapped straight when he heard his boss leaving his office, catching him chilling by the wall, very much not working and instead trying not to break and kiss the woman he loved stupid – no matter how stupid that made him. She was engaged. Promised to another, a much classier man… or at least much richer, Steve didn’t imagine his character being worth a damn penny.

On instinct, Steve put a finger over his own lips, wordlessly begging Fury not to rat him out. The man rolled his good eye – the one that hadn’t been hit by hot oil years ago – and crossed his arms on his chest.

“And—uhm, I see. Tell—please tell him I stopped by if he- and that I am sorry for not coming here for so long. He can leave a message with Mrs.Maximoff if he--- tell him I really need to-- that I would like to talk to him,” her voice trembled a bit as she stuttered, but it was clear she had been aiming for a firmer voice and missed by miles.

“Don’t see why he should want to know, princess, but sure, whatever.”

Fury gave Steve another annoyed look and stalked into everyone’s sight. For a second, Steve panicked – was his boss about to tell on him? – but the bulky man only walked in, a professional greeting on his lips.

“Good afternoon, madam. What can we do for you today?”

“Oh, good afternoon, sir-“

“My name is Nicolas Fury, I own the SHIELD Car Repairs. May I be of service?” he continued pleasantly, a businessman in his heart. And actor in his soul, apparently, because Steve was sure he figured out what was going on from the few words he had heard and from Steve’s cowardice and was now putting up a face.

“Mr.Fury, thank you for your readiness, however I was only just leaving. Your staff was most helpful,” she said, polite and respectful, almost a hint of a kind smile in her tone as if she hadn’t sounded on verge of tears only a moment ago. As if the guys hadn’t been jerks to her, standing up for him and his… ugh, his hurt feelings.

“Very well then. Have a pleasant day. Should I walk you out?”

“I actually already offered to walk Ms. Carter out if that’s alright with ya’,” Pietro quickly stepped in, a voice that hadn’t spoken since she had arrived.

“Thank you for choosing SHIELD Car Repairs, Ms.Carter,” Fury’s voice echoed through the shop, complete silence following for what felt like an eternity.

Steve gulped, knowing all too well Fury was waiting for him to come out of his hiding spot.

And sure enough – the boss’ eye found him the moment he returned. “Mr.Fury-“

“For fuck’s sake, Rogers, don’t pull shit like ‘dat in my shop. And all of ya’ – less chatting, less big-mouthing customers and for fuck’s sake, don’t go jerk into the bathroom now just because a girl in skirt showed up. Get your head in the game… and don’t drop anything on your fucking toes, accidents on a workplace are shit to deal with.”

Steve nodded with fervour, going back to his station, even when he couldn’t say that his head was in the game. No, his head was miles away, with beautiful pouty lips, the sweetest smile and a body to write sonnets for.

When Pietro came back, he didn’t say a word, but Steve could feel him burning a hole in his head with how much he stared.

That night, Steve switched from beer to whiskey, just once, hoping to drown out the sorrow that consumed him at simply hearing her voice.

Two months later, two months of Steve avoiding Maximoff’s diner like a plague and dodging Pietro Maximoff’s attempts to have a minute alone with him, a Good Samaritan left a newspaper on Steve’s doorstep. Steve, utterly confused and bone-tired from the long day at work, lifted it and started flicking through the pages absentmindedly as he went inside of his apartment.

And there, right among the obituaries, were marriage announcements, one single photo from a wedding.

She was stunning in her dress, the fabric appearing as delicate and soft as her skin when Steve had felt it under his rough fingers the day she had asked him to make love to her. A smile, crooked and melancholic, played on Steve’s lips at the memory, her breathless moans echoing in his ears.

In the photo posed a beautiful bride with her husband; and yet, Steve couldn’t make himself think she looked as pretty as she had been when sitting on his bed, misplaced, breath-taking and tempting, as pretty as she had been in the moments of ecstasy he had brought her with his loving; for the first time and for the last time at once.

He abandoned the paper on the counter and poured himself a glass of whiskey, bringing it up, hesitating an inch from his lips.

Eyeing the amber liquid, stirring it in the glass, he recalled a movie he had been to with Buck a long time ago. He had never seen people do it in real life, they certainly hadn’t done that at his ma’s funeral, but it would feel symbolic perhaps; the action of pouring a drink into a freshly dug grave was as outside his reality as the foolish idea of a relationship with her, after all.

Taking the newspaper to his hand once more, straightening the picture, he let himself feast his eyes on her. She was radiant, like sun, like the damn sunflowers on her dress the day he had met her.

Shaking his head, he threw the paper to the trash, picture up. Pouring half the whiskey on it, he buried the bittersweet memory of his untouchable uptown girl;downing the rest, he ignored the burn in his eyes and focused on the one in his throat.

As much as he hated himself for it, his last thought before he fell asleep that night was of her, a minute of wonder if she had ever truly been as affected as he was, at least for a moment; he lulled himself to sleep hoping that perhaps she had.

He dreamed of reaching out to Mrs.Maximoff as she had asked the guys to tell him to do. He dreamed of her being there the next time he came in, with an inviting and yet sad smile, a big-ass diamond on her finger… her cherry-flavoured kiss of goodbye lingering on his lips when he opened his eyes to a new day.

He took the trash out that very morning, adding a half-finished sketch he torn away from his book.

It was the last time he saw her.

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Thank you for reading! Scroll to the end of the fic for notes. ….Or? ;)

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That night, Steve switched from beer to whiskey, just once, hoping to drown out the sorrow that consumed him at simply hearing her voice.

In the night of week four turning to week five, Steve’s eyes snapped open to the darkness of his apartment. Momentarily confused, not remembering a nightmare or anything that would cause him to wake up so abruptly, he groaned when he reached for the alarm clock on his nightstand only to find out it was half past one.

He woke up for no fucking reason barely two hours after he went to bed.  

Furious knocks on his door made him jolt, his irritation only growing.

Not without a reason then – some fucker was-- ugh. People were fucking assholes. He was not getting up from his bed for sure.

“Fuck off,” Steve muttered, lying back down face first, determined to ignore-

His door rattled with the force of the next series of knocks and he growled, scrambling to his feet, shuffling to the door and wiping the sleep from his eyes.

“C’min’, comin’, Jesus, fuck.”

Unlocking and opening the door for a slit, Steve stared at the face of his night visitor, absolutely baffled.

“The fuck, Pietro? Do ya’ know wad time ‘zit?”

“No. Do ya’?” the blond retorted, his voice dripping sarcasm and Steve really wanted to shut the door to his face. It was too early – or late – for Steve to deal with that bullshit. “Pack your bags, Rogers, Natasha has a free room.”

Steve briefly wondered when the fuck the world stopped making any goddamn sense, but opened the door fully for his clearly delusional friend. For all Steve knew, Pietro could be having a stroke, he’d better hear him out.

“Huh?” he hummed, his palms massaging his bloodshot eyes. “Da’ fuck are ya’ talkin’ ‘bout?”

“Natasha? My cousin? Remember her?”

Why the hell was Pietro acting as if it was completely normal to stop by a guy’s loft to talk about his cousin, one Steve hadn’t even met?

Steve sighed, humouring the other man. “Yeah? Married some… general or somethin’? What’s ‘dat-”  

“Colonel, yeah. She’s the one who lives in Baltimore. She got a room for ya’,” Pietro repeated, still not making an ounce of sense.

“The fuck’d I do in Baltimore?” Steve asked tiredly, earning a look that told him that it was fucking obvious. Which it wasn’t really, not to him.

…was this a fever dream?

“Open your own shop, dumbass, or find a spot in some. Make money for that pretty gal of yours and that little cute as fuck babies you’ll make.”

Steve’s heart dropped to his stomach at the mention of you, fully prepared to rip Pietro a new one to wake him in the middle of the night to fuck with him—but  he caught a movement to Pietro’s right from a corner of his eye and his heart leaped right back, suddenly sprinting.

This was most definitely a fever dream. Steve felt his jaw drop, his eyes fixing on the vision in front of him as he entirely tuned out Pietro’s next words.

“She must like you real big if she’s willin’ to sell her family nick-nack to look at your ugly mug every day. And skip town and shit…”

And a vision his beautiful uptown girl was, a mirage his mind must have come up, because there was no way she was standing there, sheepish as always, but instead of her dress, wearing a pair of jeans and a simple red blouse, a denim jacket unbuttoned, hanging loosely over her shoulders. Her hair was in a messy ponytail, threw over her left shoulder.  

And shit, she talked too, which made it appear this was in fact real.

“Good evening, Steve. I am sorry to wake you,” she whispered, leaving him stare at her blankly, dumbstruck, breath stuck in his chest.

“I’ll drive ya’, Dr.Strange’s car needs a test ride. Fury’s payin’ for the gas, by the way, the ol’ bastard,” Pietro continued as Steve managed to only watch the woman he had been missing for the past weeks lower her gaze, her teeth anxiously biting on her lower lip, fingers toying with the edges of her jacket. Hers? “I’ll be back by tomorrow afternoon, even have an hour or two to spare. That’s if you start packin’ now, bud.”

The mention of packing snapped Steve from his trance, all the emotions hitting him like a damn truck. Anger, longing, more confusion, restlessness as his girl was standing only few feet away from him and he couldn’t take it anymore.

He took a hesitant step towards her, ignoring the smirking man clearing his path.

“What—what are ya’ doin’ here?” Steve asked incredulously, his inner turmoil reflecting in his voice. She hadn’t showed up for weeks and now-- what exactly was she doing here? “You- you’re engaged-”

Gulping, she looked up, her eyes glistening with unshed tears; yet, a hint of a smile spread on her lips as she shifted her weight from one foot to another. For the first time, Steve also noticed her shoes, a simple pair of sneakers looking bizarre on her feet.

“To a man who loves my best friend and vice versa, my best friend who has been covering for me whenever we were together before it blew to our faces,” she explained, not daring to raise her voice above whisper. Steve still didn’t understand – not fully, unable to comprehend what was happing on his doorstep. Pietro talking about his cousin, about driving, Fury paying for gas, the woman he still loved standing there as if ready to skip town- “She was too covering for me when I talked to Mrs. Maximoff when she helped me to plan this. Pietro said you would want this as well— but- but if you don’t, I will leave you alone. I-“

The day Steve had met the strange girl from uptown, Bucky hadn’t failed to mention Pietro was the fast one, clearly implying Steve was the slow one.

Bucky should have fucking seen Steve now when she hesitated, unsure of his feelings – he had never acted so fast in his whole damn life.

He crossed the distance in one long stride and his hands shot up to her, grabbing her by her shoulders unceremonially. Before she could react, he pulled her body against his with all he got, claiming her mouth like there was no tomorrow.

He swallowed her yelp of surprise, followed by her happy laugh, feeling tears springing from her eyes, causing him to halt just as she finally started kissing him back.

“But your family-“ he blurted out, interrupted by her shaking her head wildly, hair flying.

“Mr. Ross has an eye on my sister. He is from a good family, of good name, generations of lawyers. My family will do splendidly,” she said with a smile playing on her lips, sweet and watery as tears still rolled down her face – happy ones, Steve believed. He felt the same delight bursting in him, switching from a broody cynic back to the fool in love in no time. “And we might too. We will have each other and I have learned enough to teach—or-- or I can be a waitress if I can’t find another job, it doesn’t matter, just so you are not the only one to-“

God, he loved her. She was so adorable and sweet and was talking about being his and going from basically a modern princess to a damn waitress, because she was willing to be with him whatever the fucking cost, apparently--

And was there really anything else he could do?

He grabbed the back of her neck to connect their mouths again, a hungry open-mouthed kiss, his hand fisting in her hair, because holy fuck, how was this happening, she was here and she was his-

“Alright, alright, smoochin’ later, packin’ your friggin’ bags now, Rogers,” Pietro cleared his throat loudly, sounding only as annoyed as amused. “I have a long drive ahead.”

Later, bags hazardously full and piled up in the trunk and on the backseat next to them, Steve couldn’t stop smiling and yet he felt a pang of guilt, ruminating over everything she was giving up.

She was resting her head on his shoulder, their interlaced fingers in his lap and Steve revelled at the absence of an overpriced engagement ring on her hand, the one from his ma’s securely in one of his bags to take place on her finger one day. She was walking the fine line between the real world and the dreamland, breathing softly to the crook of his neck and she seemed content. For now.

He sighed and pressed what could be the hundredth kiss to her hair that night.

“Doll?” he whispered softly, the question burning on his tongue, the only one he could hope to actually have answered now and not after they would try and started a life together.

“Mm?” she hummed softly, nuzzling into him further, her lips brushing the exposed skin on his throat.

“Why me? You could have any of those-“ snobs “-high-class… uptown guys.”

The smile he felt against his skin had him melt into the seat as he chased away all the grim thoughts about what the future might bring, her regretting her decision and blaming him for her ruined life on top of that list.

“Because I love you, Steve, and you are worth ten of them. My amazing downtown guy,” she emphasized, filling Steve’s chest with the most delicious warmth, his heart swelling, feeling so full it might burst.

He knew she wasn’t just saying that – she meant it. If she hadn’t, she wouldn’t’ have been in his arms right now, heading to damn Baltimore with nothing but her bags, little money and few pieces of jewellery.

“I love ya’ too,” he whispered, this time pressing a kiss to her nose, drawing an exhausted giggle from her lips. Yep, his heart was about to burst before they even reached their destination. “Love ya’ so much. My sweet, sweet uptown girl.”

“Not so uptown anymore...”

Steve chuckled as rather than regret, her voice was filled with relief. “I’m willin’ to put up with ‘dat as long as ya’ stay mine.”

She squeezed his hand, tilting her head up, blinking up at him sleepily and softly pressing her lips to his.

“I think that can be arranged.”

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S.R. masterlist

cxptain’s challenge (check it out, prompts are still available - and who doesn’t like the 80′s?)

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Tags:

@wxstedhexrt, @comicshoplife, @elysianecho, @scentedsongrebel, @orions-nebula, @pies-writes-and-more​, @kayteewritessteve​, @murdermornings, @rinkashirikitateku, @queen-kass-the-writer

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….yes, in the first ending, there might have been a chance of our uptown girl planning an escape and Steve aka heartbroken dummy blew it. But hey, maybe not, perhaps she only wanted to say goodbye like he dreamed of… who knows. 

Aaaaanyway.

You are my hero if you finished reading this fic! Thank you so much for finding time to do that, this one truly was a beast – at least when I consider that it WAS supposed to be a one shot. 

Any feedback is appreciated, as always – good, bad (if constructive), coherent or incoherent, or ‘just’ a like if you enjoyed and don’t feel like putting feelings into words. Thanks again for reading!