#how am i meant to behave when this drops in 4k

[okkotsd]

pov,  i’m  here  and  i  got  coffee  in  my  big  no  prob-llama  wine  tumbler  and  i’m  weaving  you  an  entire  tale  about  the  importance  of  this  entire  subplot  in  regards   to  the  development  of  yuuta’s  character,   and  the  believability  in  the  huge  strides  he  makes  within  the  short  time  frame  outlined  in  volume  0.   i’m  waxxing  mega  poetic  about  the  reflecting  narratives   &.  the  struggle  to  connect  and  communicate  as  a  direct  consequence  of  the  cards  you’ve  been  dealt,    but  to  have  the  strong  desire  to  do  so  regardless,   and  the  fascinating  way  these  commonalities  are  shared  between  two  characters  with  totally  opposing  personalities.  pov  i’m  on  the  floor

[shurisneakers]

shut in [epilogue]

Summary: When your high profile mission goes terribly wrong, you’re forced to hide in a safehouse with a man you’ve never met before. With seemingly nowhere else to go, you’re forced to work together to figure out who is trying to have you assassinated before it’s too late. (Sam Wilson x Reader, Hitman AU)

Warnings: anxiety, ptsd, swearing

Word count: 4k

A/N: annnnd we’re done :)) thank you to my resident bully @midnightsunfae for really getting this fic off the ground and helping with the planning. ily upo and thank you to everyone who’s read this series over the 5 months it’s been going on. it’s meant the absolute world to me :’)

Previous Part || Shut In Masterlist

Your fingers tapped rhythmically against the table, an indicator of the nervousness that was building to a crescendo in your chest.

“Are you sure you wanna do this?” he asked, hand placed gently on your forearm.

You nodded, eyes downcast. If you looked at him, you wouldn’t be able to find it in yourself to follow through with it.

“I am,” you said quietly, swallowing to get rid of the lump in your throat.

“Okay,” he confirmed, letting his arm drop gently.

Ten minutes to go. You took a sip of water nervously. The glass had already found itself shifting back and forth on the table in search of the perfect place. It was a fruitless quest anyway.

The door was painted a dark green, steps leading up to it from the pavement.

“Are you sure he won’t mind?” you asked quietly, standing a stair below him in apprehension. Neither of you had contacted him or sent a message, just showed up at his place exhausted and covered in a thin layer of dirt.

“I know he won’t.” Sam raised his fist to knock thrice, a pause before knocking two more times.

A code.

He turned around slightly, checking to see if you were fine. The longer you stood out there, the more afraid you were of someone spotting the both of you, putting an end to your life before it even began. You had a feeling that paranoia would continue for a long time.

The door swung open, revealing a tall man with blonde hair leaning against the doorway with one arm. There was a nick above his eyebrow, an old scar that hadn’t faded over time. Even though his other hand was concealed behind the door, you could tell that he was holding something by the way his muscles were clenched. Years of training wouldn’t disappear overnight.

"Sam." Surprise overtook his face in a second. "You're alive."

"Don't sound so happy, I can't handle it." Sam rolled his eyes, an affectionate smile on his face. "This is Y/N, we need a place to stay."

“It’s just been a while since I heard from you, man. Coming from a hit?” Riley didn’t think twice about moving aside, scrutinising dried blood on your person as you walk past. “Nice to meet you, I’m Riley.”

It was a cane in his hand. Sam’s mention of his limp flashed in your mind.

You gave him a small wave and a quiet re-introduction of yourself, following Sam into the house.

“You could say that.” Sam paused, a hand on Riley’s shoulder as he says something out of your ear shot to him.

Riley’s face turned stoic immediately, a nod of his head and a deep exhale soon following. “Stay as long as you need.”

“Thank you.” You pressed your lips together in a straight line with a corner quirked upwards, a half smile of sorts.

“Bathroom’s down the hall, to the right.” He pointed out the direction. “I’m getting you some food. Gumbo still your thing, Wilson?”

“Anything other than peanut butter.”

Riley was a blessing you could have never prepared for; knowing exactly what you both would need and anticipating emotions you had no idea you’d be feeling. For someone who had guests show up completely uninvited to crash on his couch, he was ready as ever, given that he had been through the same thing a while ago.

It was difficult. Fuck that, it was one of the hardest things to go; not pretending like everything around you would fall into soon and that you would be fine because you had to. You had worked too damn hard for you not to be.

But you knew things weren’t going to be fine right off the bat and it would be foolish to think it was.

“Sam, look at me,” you commanded gently, but there was an edge of firmness to your tone. You were sitting on the bench near the entrance of the park.

“I’m sorry, things were going good and I thought-” He shook his face that was hiding in his palm, elbows resting on his knees.

His attacks didn’t come nearly as frequently as yours. It was easy to think that he had no trauma just because he learnt how to deal with it better.

“Look at me, Sammy.” It was just a walk in the park, a stroll that should have lasted twenty minutes tops. You had been on that trail before for the same purpose but something triggered him today, someone’s gaze who lingered too long on the both of you.

He clenched his fists, lifting his head to meet your gaze.

“Breathe with me.” You exaggerated the movements to have him follow, a system the both of you had come up with when anxiety attacks used to hit at random. A temporary solution to an aftermath that would go on for hours, days even.

It took him a few staggered breaths to get there, finally falling into routine with you. He could feel his heartbeat slow to what it was but the pit in his stomach wouldn’t subside for a while.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t-”

“You have nothing to apologise for,” you reassured, still making sure he was breathing with you. You were nervous too and your eyes were still darting about to survey your surroundings, but he needed you at that moment. “We’re safe. We’re okay.”

“No one’s here,” he mumbles, interlacing your fingers and bringing it to his forehead to lean against your hand.

“We’re okay,” you repeated, giving him the space he needed. “We’re okay.”

“Will someone be joining you?” The waiter prodded softly. If it wasn’t your incessant tapping at the table, the clammy palms and constant checking of your watch was a clear giveaway that you could use a bit of kindness that day.

“Yeah, any minute now.” You smiled at her. She simply nodded, refilling your glass of water before leaving you alone.

You looked at your watch and sighed.

Seven minutes.

Things were fine. Things were good.

Sam and you were… undefined. Labels almost seemed too constrictive for now and it wasn’t like the both of you didn’t know what the other felt. It was kind. It was soft. Sometimes you kissed his cheek when the sunlight bounced off his face while he watered the succulents and the smile he gave you was addictive. Other times he snaked an arm around your waist and leaned his head on your shoulder while you watched the street from the kitchen window.

It made you happy, and so you tried to force away the stem of doubt that creeped into your heart.

Riley had introduced the concept of movie nights and the occasional mob movie would make it in there just to poke fun at. He showed you around the city, inviting you to go grocery shopping with him at the farmers market, the best places to get a glimpse of the music scene or to subtly point out potential date night spots.

He was a genuinely nice guy, and if you thought Sam was fun to hang out with, you were not prepared for the both of them together. You could tell why Sam adored him.

“Y/N, I don’t know how you stayed with him for all that time and didn’t murder him in his sleep.” Riley glared at Sam who had once again left his collection of music CDs strewn around on a couch. It was all in jest; it was well known that Sam found an anchor in music that kept him up late at night for a sense of calm.

“It was a close call sometimes,” you added playfully, giving Sam a grin.

“You weren’t exactly easy to survive with either.” He scoffed. “How many times did we watch Megamind in a row? Eight?”

“You wouldn’t stop watching Die Hard,” you accused, arms crossed over your chest. “It was payback.”

“You made the rule saying we couldn’t watch things more than twice in a row and you broke it first.”

“I’m gonna go,” Riley interjected. “But y’all keep at this. I heard it’s good for your soul.”

“Stay there,” Sam demanded, pointing to where he was standing a second ago. “You’re gonna be play judge since you started this shit.”

“I really don’t want to.” He shook his head, staying put nonetheless, amusement clear as day on his face.

“The laundry.”

“The dishes.”

You both narrowed your eyes at each other. His argument didn’t hold a match to yours.

“You know what, I was wrong,” Riley announced to no one in particular. “I’m pretty sure you guys would kill each other under any other circumstance.”

The smile on your face faltered but you straightened it back out with a clearing of your throat before firing a comeback.

It was barely a second, almost unnoticeable. But Sam caught it.

Four minutes.

Almost time.

The tapping became more intense, and the rate at which you pulled out your phone to check the time increased.

Fuck, this was a bad idea. How were you supposed to behave with him after all this time?

Something was wrong. Something was off.

Sam wasn’t blind to it. He could see it under the smile you eased into at game night, the complaining when too much food was ordered for three people to eat, the good natured teasing when he rolled over to your side of the bed at night to steal your blanket.

Something was eating at you, gnawing at you from the inside.

His suspicion was confirmed when you whispered at 2am one night to what you thought was an asleep partner that you wanted to move out. Find a place of your own.

His stomach dropped instantly but he didn’t so much as move a muscle.

“I need to get out. I need to have a life,” you sniffed, doing your best not to wake him up as you traced circles into his skin lightly. “I don’t know what it’s like to be independent. I won’t know unless I figure it out myself.”

The air had a chill to it and it was one of the times you had asked him to sleep in the guest bedroom with you instead of on his own, knowing that it was one of those nights where you could use a little extra warmth.

“Even when we were in there I couldn’t stop thinking about whether this thing between us was just because we were forced to stay together. You said it wasn’t, and I know that but I can’t help but think-” Your voice cracked. “Would you come back to me if things were different?”

He didn’t answer, even though he knew what he wanted to say with all the certainty in the world. Your fingers continued to draw on his skin. He continued to let you.

Sam didn’t even bring up the conversation that morning, or that week. Instead, he held you a bit closer whenever he could and gave you the space to hopefully open up to him on your own time, letting you know that he’d be there to listen.

It took a while. You both were in the middle of watching a movie that wasn’t Die Hard when you told him that you needed to talk to him about something. The hesitancy in your voice and the fixation your fingers had with the hem of your sweater was painful to witness.

He understood, of course. He always did. That you needed to experience what it was like to live, not survive. That decades of living with other kids, living under an abuser, living in a safehouse for months, was restrictive and suffocating and you needed to find what made you happy.

And so did he. It was something both of you had to do eventually, exit the bubble you had been staying in under such ardent protection for those two months.

Riley was wonderfully supportive of it, vowing to find you the best apartment that New Orleans had to offer. You didn’t doubt it.

His place had been colourful and bright and everything you could have asked for after the monotone walls you were used to. But it wasn’t yours.

A few weeks later you had moved out. Sam left a lingering kiss on your forehead, a sign to say that he’d be here whenever, whatever.

You made a Shakira joke. He laughed.

A completely fresh new start. If you failed now, it was all on you.

And what a terrifying thought that was.

It had been four months since you had left Riley’s apartment behind.

Four months since you had seen either of them.

The cafe was starting to feel too small for this event. Too intimate, too-

When the bell above the cafe chimes, something at the back of your mind instantly wakes up, sending you on high alert.

“Y/N?” he called out from behind you.

You knew he’d be early.

“Sam.” You breathed out, standing up to face him.

Video calls didn’t do him any justice. He had a particular glow to him, an aura of confidence that wasn’t there the last time you saw him. His beard was neatly trimmed and the smile that tugged at his lips the minute you caught his eye was beautiful.

You didn’t realise how different he looked until the time apart. Months of makeshift workouts and peanut butter as your only source of protein had done a number on him. You remembered him being leaner, and what you now realised was the constant burden of fatigue on his face.

“You look good.” An understatement escaped you, but he did.

He had a deep blue shirt on that hugged him in all the right places. Months of seeing him only black and grey had you damn near drooling when he wore other colours after you got out.

Not that you were staring, but his biceps had definitely made a wonderful return.

“You’re not so bad yourself.” Sam sent you a smile that instantly put you at ease. “Independence looks good on you, sweetheart.”

You gave a small laugh, gesturing for him to take a seat. Should you have hugged him? Shook his hand? Kissed hi-

“It’s been a while,” he politely interrupted your overthinking. “How are things going?”

You let out a small breath. It was a big question, one that you had answered over text and call a few times but it was different now. He was in front of you now and you couldn’t bullshit the way you used to on call occasionally.

“Weird,” you admitted. “I don’t know what to do with myself now that I have all this time.”

“It takes some gettin’ used to.” He nodded in agreement, leaning back in his chair.

A lot of your time went into trying new hobbies. Knitting, pottery, drawing- anything that you could get your hands on. Things didn’t always catch on, some discarded just after the first week. Others stuck, bringing you bits of triumph every time you moved forward with your newfound skill.

“You still seein’ your therapist?” He flashed a smile at the waitress who filled his glass of water.

Ah, yes. Dr. Bishop had been one of the first people you sought out.

“Yeah.” You took a sip of water. “See her weekly.”

You still had money left over from all the hit jobs that you had done. As much as you wanted to leave every inkling of that life behind, you needed the cash to live. You had enough for the time being, but you knew that eventually you had to start working; if not for the money then for the peace of mind.

“How’s that goin’?”

“She thinks I talk in elaborate metaphors. The gang’s what I call my toxic family, he was my abusive father, stuff like that.”

There were moments where you thought you saw someone you knew standing at a corner, vendors giving you icy looks from across the street, footsteps outside your door that seemed too damn loud. But nothing ever came of it.

“Thanks for the tip, by the way.” You extended a smile to him in appreciation for the idea.

“Worked with my therapist, figured it would be the same with yours.” He shrugged casually. It wasn’t like you wanted to lie to her, and you weren’t. But some things were better left in the dark.

“But I think it’s helping.” You exhaled deeply, eyes downcast. “The nightmares are reducing.”

“That’s a lot of progress.” The corner of his mouth quirked upward in pride.

Several feelings erupted from that look, some that you’d spend the whole day revelling in if you didn’t force yourself to move on.

“How about you?” you diverted the subject back to him. “How’s Riley?”

“He says he misses ya.” Sam laughed. “Says he can’t handle me alone, that he needs you back to save him.”

“What have you been doing to that poor man?” you teased, easing back into your seat. “He was fine when I left him.”

“He’s got a fancy new job now and it’s been going to his head. Needed a little humbling.”

“You’re not going too hard on him, are you?” Even though you knew he wasn’t, it was fun to make sure.

“Nah, I’d say it’s just about the right amount.” Sam grinned and you felt the familiar flutter return to your stomach. “I’ve been doing good. Working on getting my license.”

“Oh yeah, how’s that going?” You were thrilled when he said he was going to look into becoming a youth counselor, knowing that it was something he had been genuinely wanting to do for ages.

“With my background, or lack of it, it’s a little trickier than I thought it would be,” he divulges a bit more seriously. “Riley’s been pulling a few strings and I got a few contacts but it’s gonna take some more time.”

You bit your lip, worry rising for him. He deserved it, he earned it. It fucking sucked that it wasn’t going to be an easy, direct path.

“We’ll figure it out,” you said quietly, reaching out to intertwine your fingers with his in reassurance.

The contact brings with it a small spark. You wondered if he still felt it.

“Yeah. We will.” He sent you a soft smile at your action, not making any effort to move it. “You been on any dates lately?”

You let out a snort at that. “Loads. Have fellas lining up at every corner for me.”

“I bet.” He’s more bold, a bit more open than he was in the first month when you both got out. “How many of them do I have to fight off?”

“I’d say six as a rough estimate.” Your expression mimicked one of consideration. “I hope you’ve been getting your hours in at the gym.”

“I’ll kick it up a notch,” he promised, hands raised in surrender.

“You better. We’re supposed to go for laser-tag.” A dumb callback to a joke he made on one of your last days there.

“Or paintball.” He remembered. It made you unnecessarily giddy. “I added an escape room to the list too.”

“Hilarious,” you fired at him, rolling your eyes slightly but the happiness on your face proved otherwise.

His laughter died down eventually, paving the way for the comfortable silence that lingered between you both. Your eyes fell down to where your hand still held his, biting your lip to conceal a smile.

“Y/N,” he called out, pulling your gaze back to his. “Jokes aside… how are you?”

You let out a breath at his question. You knew it was coming.

“Riley found me an apartment,” you murmured.

Sam looked up from his phone. “Yeah?”

“It’s a nice place. Lots of sunlight. Quiet too.” You toyed with your fingers. “But it’s about an hour away. More if you consider traffic.”

Sam set his phone down gently on the bedside table, indicating that you had his full attention.

“I don’t want you to think I’m abandoning you, because I’m not. I wouldn’t, I just-”

“Hey,” he interrupted calmly, twisting his body to face you. “I don’t think you’re abandoning me. If this is what you need, then you should do it.”

“I don’t know if this is what I need. I don’t know what I’m doing, I’ve never been-” the frustration in your voice only increased as you went on. “-I don’t even know if this is going to work. What if I hate it?”

“Finding out what you hate is just as important as what you like, I think.” He watched you toy with the fidget square he had gotten you. “And you know that if you don’t feel like it, then you can come back here at any moment.”

“I know.” It was a comforting thought. A safety net.

“But would this make you happy?” That caught you by surprise.

It wasn’t something you had thought of. You thought of the negative consequences, the devastating effects it could have on you, how it could be the worst possible decision you’d ever make.

“I don’t know,” you mumbled, a new anxiety setting in. “I guess we’ll see.”

You liked the neighbours who played the piano way too loud at 2am, the really terrible coffee at the therapist’s office and the feeling the paper plane on your dresser gave you when you occasionally looked at it.

You didn’t like how hot the apartment could get, especially during the afternoon, or the guy who sold magazines down the street who cursed at everyone for no reason, or the gentrified Indian food they served at the mall.

But Sam was right. Figuring out what you didn’t like was just as beautiful a journey as figuring out what you did.

“I’m happy.” You breathed out. “Or I'm working towards being happy. But it’s there.”

He doesn’t say anything to that. Simply slipped his palm under yours to lift your hand, pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

“I’m proud of you.”

If anyone could feel the heat that rose to your face they would probably think you had a fever.

The fear that you had, the one of what things would be like if you weren’t forced to survive in a confined space together, had begun to fade the minute he called out your name that day.

It was Sam. Your Sam.

You shake yourself out of your train of thought with a small smile, making a move to gather up your belongings without letting go of his hand for a second.

“Well, c’mon then. Those paintballs aren’t going to shoot themselves.”

“Are you saying this is a date?” There was a smirk on his face that wasn’t there a minute ago.

“Would you still consider it one once I annihilate you?” You tilted your head in a challenge.

“That would never happen, first of all.” He scoffed. “Second… I was thinking that maybe we could do something normal for a change.”

That had you more interested than the prospect of adventure sports. You had enough of it for a lifetime, frankly speaking.

“Lead the way, Cinnamon.” He only rolled his eyes at the nickname, sending you a vaguely threatening look. You just laughed.

“This place got good coffee?” He looked around at the establishment and its patrons.

“One of the best.”

“Then I don’t see why we have to go anywhere else,” he offered and you nodded, relaxing back into your place with the same sense of warmth in your heart that only intensified with his proposal.

He raised his hand up to flag the server, the same girl who had been helping you out since you got there, asking for two menus.

The smile he sent her was infectious. It was good.

“Sam,” you began quietly. “I missed you.”

His eyes softened, the sunlight reflecting in it making it shine like dravite. “I missed you, too.”

“Ready to order?” The waitress stands beside you with a notepad.

He looked at you and you nodded with a smile.

Things were different. You were different.

And he still came back to you.

--fin--

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <3

thank you so much for reading!

[bookstantrash]

A/N: Who’s in for more Nessian Pride and Prejudice? This is now going to be a multichapter fic so I hope y’all enjoy it as much as I do! This is also almost 4K (3.997 words to be more specific lmao), the most I’ve ever written, so you can tell how obsessed I’m with P&P.

You can check here Pemberley’s Lake , part one of this fic.

Once again, huge shoutout to the gc for always being so encouraging. I love y’all 🥺 and special thanks for @perseusannabeth for brainstorming this fic with me 💜

Hooked on you

“The baskets?”

“Yes, my Lord”

“And the refreshments?”

“Yes, they are cool and ready to be served”

“And the table was set in case the ladies prefer its comfort to sitting in the picnic towel?”

“The fluffiest and silkiest one has been chosen and is in place, along with the table, chairs and parasol”

“And what about—”

“My Lord,” Mrs.Potts firmly said, interrupting Cassian’s nervous rambling “Everything has been double checked and ready since my lord inquired about it during breakfast”

Cassian exhaled, running his hands through his hair. Nesta and her companions were to arrive at any minute now, and he had to make sure everything was perfect. She deserved nothing but perfection, and Cauldron blast him if he ended up offending her and her friends in any way.

“Forgive me Mrs.Potts,” he said with small smile “My nerves are getting the best of me”

“You have nothing to worry about my Lord, the staff and I will not disappoint” the elderly head maid assured him. All of Pemberley’ staff had noticed how much their master’s encounter with Lady Archeron had raised his spirits, and they had made their life purpose to make sure his smile never disappeared.

Cassian had to be one of the kindest masters Mrs.Potts had ever served, and most of the staff agreed with her. He always made sure to make all of them comfortable and inquire about how their family was faring, if they were in need of any assistance. He showed a care towards his personnel that went beyond the common care of a master towards his servants, but rarely appeared to be truly happy, wearing a mask that concealed a deep sadness and loneliness within himself.

They had taken upon themselves to organise the most elaborate picnic in the history of Pemberley, in hopes their lord’ smile wavered no more.

And that a certain lady decided to accept his heart.

“The guests have arrived, sir” Cogsworth, Pemberley’s major-domo and head of the household staff, announced “They are waiting in the parlor”

“Thank you, Cogsworth. I shall be with them in a minute”

The butler gave a small nod and left them, going back to tend to the guests.

“Mrs.Potts,” Cassian said, turning in his head maid’s direction “How do I look?”

“Quite dashing, sir, if I may say so” she replied with a motherly smile.

“You may. And the compliment is most welcome” he replied, a boyish grin on his face.

Cassian had taken the utmost care getting dressed that morning. His hair alone had taken him two hours to achieve its natural messy and ruffled appearance, he wore one of his best fitted clothes, and his shoes were so polished he could see his reflection on them.

He could not allow himself to ruin this second chance fate had given him. Even if Nesta had not accepted his heart, he would do anything and everything to be of assistance to her and make sure she had the most enjoyable time in Pemberley.

Cassian quickly walked to the parlor, possible dialogues with Nesta going over his head, from polite greetings to teasings and inquires about her sisters and trip.

But it all went flying from his head the moment he laid his eyes on her.

Nesta Archeron possessed a beauty that took Cassian’s breath each time he saw her, and her current attire did little to help him breath.

She wore a light blue one piece gown, but what had him mesmerised was its off shoulder design, allowing him a clear view of her clavicule and showing a little bit more of skin than the current fashion allowed. White flower shaped buttons added a nice touch to the design, and her elbow length gloves acted as the perfect element to balance the daring dress.

“My Lady,” Cassian greeted, boldly reaching for her hand to drop a chaste kiss on it, wishing those stupid gloves were not in the way “I hope you did not wait for too long?”

“Not at all, sir” Nesta answered, a slight blush in her cheeks “May I introduce you to Miss Gwyneth Berdara, Miss Emerie Carynthian and Sir Balthazar Oristian?”

Cassian looked at both ladies, greeting them as he had with Nesta.

“It is an honour to finally meet the most sought singer in all England” he said, raising the opera singer’s hand to kiss it too, her pale constitution allowing him to notice how much she blushed.

He had thought it better to greet all ladies in the same manner, for it would be impolite and could arise assumptions of his feelings towards Nesta.

Miss Gwyneth Berdara was a petite woman, but Cassian knew that once she sang one could not help but be drawn to her, who shined the most brightly on the stage. Her copper chestnut hair was free, pinned back from her face by a dark blue ribbon, allowing a perfect view of her teal coloured eyes and freckled face. He could not help but wish that Nesta had followed her friend’s example and let her hair down too, which was fashioned in a coronet braid.

Cassian had not been able to stop thinking of Nesta with her hair unbound, that look of surprise on her face in the back of his mind.

He was always thinking of that look on her face.

Miss Berdara held a dark green parasol — no doubt to protect her fair skin from the sunlight —  and a matching dress in similar fashion to Nesta’s, although hers had long sleeves.

“And you must be the famous business woman who has been driving society mad with your beautiful designs” he eyed the lady in question and tried to hide his surprise as he greeted her.

Because Miss Emerie Carynthian was wearing high waisted black pants and a long sleeved white shirt with ruffled laces, her curly brown hair in a high updo.

She for sure was the one responsible for Gwyn’s and Nesta’s daring attire.

“How flattering, sir. At least one gentleman here knows how to talk to ladies” Emerie said, glancing at their only male companion with a smirk.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, sir” Balthazar ignored Emerie, quite used to his business partner’s teasing “I heard incredible stories about your feats in the War. Shame I was placed in a squadron so far away from your or else I could have seen you in action.”

“You participated in the Battle of Meinir Pass?” Cassian asked, surprised, shaking the other man’s hand in greeting.

“Aye sir, third squadron. After the War I invested some money in business, being fortunate to make a big deal. The unfortunate side being that said deal was with Miss Emerie here”

Cassian laughed. They were a curious group, with only Nesta actually having a place in high society, but still befriending those of different status. It was not something usual, and he felt even more wonder towards her.

“Shall we move on? There are refreshments and we were graced with wonderful weather.” escorting his guests outside, Cassian asked Balthazar about his time in the army, all the while keeping an eye on Nesta, that damn dress threatening to undo his sanity before lunch time.

~•~

Fishing was supposed to be a nice activity. Calming. Relaxing.

Harmless.

Except nothing was truly harmless if Nesta Archeron was involved, because Cassian could not care less about catching fish.

Emerie and Gwyn — she had insisted to be called Gwyn instead of Gwyneth, “We are friends now, you cannot call me Gwyneth, it is too serious” — had gotten bored of fishing after twenty minutes and were now eating strawberries in the blanket laid near the lake. Cassian was really glad they had liked the blanket and ditched the table.

It meant they were comfortable around him.

It meant that he was one more step away from ruining his plan to make today perfect.

Balthazar had promptly prepared his things and in no time had caught three fishes. Emerie had bet he could not catch ten until they left for their inn, so now he was making his goal to catch not ten but fifteen.

Cassian could only wonder how their partnership was if this is how they usually behaved around each other.

Nesta, on the other hand, had been busy reading a book, completely lost in her world.

Until Gwyn and Emerie thought it would be a good idea to splash water at her.

Cassian thought she was going to be angry to have her clothes wet — or to risk getting her book damaged — but he was taken by surprise when Nesta threw her head back and laughed, cheeks flushed and the sun shining in her hair.

It was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard, and he was so mesmerized by it that he almost hooked his finger instead of the fishing bait.

Cassian lost all interest in fishing once they started splashing water at themselves, watching them play with a small smile on his face, no doubt appearing to be a fool in love.

Balthazar, however, was not so happy.

“This must be a plan from Emerie to ruin my fishing” he muttered a little annoyed “I was about to catch a big one but they scared it away”

“They will get tired soon, my friend” Cassian tried to assure him “It is quite hot today to be moving around, even if they are splashing water at each other”

The sun was indeed high in the sky, and Cassian could not help but wonder how the ladies managed to appear so composed and fresh despite the many layers they wore. He and Balthazar had long ditched their coats to stay only in their shirts, Cassian going as far as rolling his sleeves.

He had failed to notice how Nesta had been eyeing him as he rolled his sleeves, her eyes tracing every new piece of tanned skin being exposed.

“It must be the sun” she thought to herself as she felt her mouth getting dry looking at Cassian’s bare forearms “Surely I am not attracted to him. I am just thirsty because of the weather.”

Nesta had been feeling strangely anxious since they had arrived at Pemberley, her heart threatening to burst out of her chest when Cassian kissed her hand. Oh, how she had momentarily wished she was as bold as Emerie and Gwyn to not bother with gloves — Nesta had been offered by Emerie to wear one of her newly designed pants, which she politely declined, stating that the off shoulder gown was as daring as she would allow herself to be — so she could finally know how Cassian’s lips would feel against her bare skin.

She was not proud to have thought such an improper thing, and even more ashamed of the ugly feeling in her heart when Cassian greeted her friends in the same manner.

How delusioned she had been to think he was showing her some preference.

That his feelings had stayed the same since her sister’s ball.

Cassian was a gentleman, and as such was only showing proper courtesy by greeting them all in the most dignified manner.

“Oh, it is so hot” Gwyn complained, their water game interrupted to get some refreshments “Even your light designed gowns cannot keep it away, Emerie”

“If only we could go for a dive” Emerie sighed, eyeing the lake.

“It would not be proper” Nesta mumbled, still distracted as she watched Cassian.

“Proper” Emerie snorted, taking off her shoes and rolling her pants until her ankles “I almost regret wearing those pants, if only they did not look so good on me”

“Emerie what are you doing, for the Mother!” Nesta exclaimed, watching as her friend dipped her feet in the cold water.

“I am refreshing myself dear, what does it look like?” she waved her hand in dismissal. “Balthazar could not care less about seeing some skin, he is too busy trying to win our bet. Whereas Cassian is too polite to stare. Besides, I dare say he would not care either, as he seems to be used to female attention.”

Nesta found herself with nothing to say in face of Emerie’s remarks, except her annoyance that Cassian would have ladies falling left and right at his feet.

That strangely bothered her.

“Pardon me then, I will agree with Emerie on this” Gwyn declared, dipping her own feet in the lake and sighing in delight “Join us Nesta, please. You must be feeling quite hot”

“Oh well, stop rushing me” Nesta replied, faking annoyance. She promptly dumped her feet in the water, even going as far as taking off her gloves and unbuttoning the first two buttons of her dress, letting the fresh air cool her warm skin “There, all relaxed and improper.”

“Bravo!” Emerie exclaimed, and the three of them laughed loudly.

Nesta had to agree that the cold water was indeed very refreshing, soon not even caring about Cassian or Balthazar’s presence. It was good to let off some steam and forget proper etiquette for a moment. She imagined her mother rolling in her grave in ultrage at her eldest daughter's attitude, which filled her with smug satisfaction.

A fish came up to swim around Nesta’s feet, and she giggled at the sensation.

“Do not move” Balthazar said, eyeing the fish “I have my sights on this little fella”

“Balthazar! Let it go! It’s not bothering me” she exclaimed, feeling protective over her new aquatic friend.

“But Nesta, I have caught twelve fish already. If you let me— “

“I do not allow you to dare and hurt it. You have more than enough time to attempt and win yours and Emerie’s bet” Nesta declared, leaving no room for argument.

Balthazar cursed quietly, but he knew better than to try to go against Nesta. Even if it was over a small thing as a fish.

Nesta asked Gywn about her mysterious sponsor, which had made it possible to fulfill her dream of singing in the most renowned opera houses in England. Gwyn informed she had yet to meet her generous patron, but that recently she had been receiving flowers every new performance.

“You think they are from your patron?” Nesta inquired “Or from any of your mass of admirers?”

Gwyn blushed at her friend’s teasing. Her dressing room was usually crowded with gifts after her performances, be it with expensive jewelry, chocolates, dresses and even love letters.

“I do not know. All I have as a clue are the lovely ribbons used to tie the flowers with” she indicated the one currently tying her hair.

They kept talking about who possibly could be her sponsor, lost in their gossip.

If they had paid attention, both ladies would have spotted Cassian — a small blush that could pass as a result from the hot weather adorning his face — gazing at Nesta. 

More specifically, at her ankles.

His hands were tightly gripping the fishing rod, his eyes moving from her ankles to her bare arms to the two open buttons of her dress.

Cauldron, the places Nesta Archeron made his thoughts wander to.

He quickly looked back at the lake, shaking his head to try and think of other things, glad they were too busy to notice his blatantly staring.

Only that Emerie had seen him and the way he looked at one of her dearest friends. She tucked that information for later, both to tease Nesta about it and to think of more scandalous clothing to make her wear.

She knew a look of love when she saw one, and she was sure Cassian held it.

Nesta, on the other hand, would need a little push to realise her feelings.

And to Emerie’s joy, it appeared that until the end of the day she would have plenty of teasing material.

Both Cassian and Balthar took a break from fishing to have lunch with the ladies — although the latter kept eyeing his fishing rod while he ate, no doubt wanting to get back as soon as possible. Mrs.Potts and the rest of the help had really outdone themselves, there was enough food to feed at least twenty people.

“This has to be the best chocolate cake I’ve ever eaten” Nesta declared, already in her second slice “Please deliver my compliments to the cook”

“I am sure Chef Ramsay will be most pleased to hear that” Cassian said, knowing his chef would most probably scream something along the lines of ‘Of course she liked my food, I am the one who cooked it!’ but be secretly happy with the compliment.

“Elain will be sad to hear that” Gwyn teased “To think her cooking talents are viewed in such poor manners in your eyes….”

“Hush now. My sister’s cooking is exceptional, but even her would have to agree with me on this”

“You certainly enjoy it, I have never seen you so unlady like” Emerie said laughing, indicating the chocolate sauce that had gotten on her fingers.

Proving that she could be even more unlady like — by that time her mother would be almost resurrecting to hit Nesta with a whip for her horrid attitude — and shock her friends even more, Nesta licked her fingers instead of using a napkin, promptly cleaning her hand. That action brought fake gasps from her friends, who feigned horror at her action. Even Balthazar got in the play, saying no man would now dare to court her after such behaviour.

Little did he know that Cassian was thinking of proposing to Nesta again. He had tracked each lick, each portion of the chocolate sauce being eaten, his heart beating faster and faster, feeling his body warming and his mind wandering to unspeakable places not for the first time in the day.

“Get a grip Cassian” he thought to himself, drinking some lemonade in hopes of calming down.

Nesta chose the exact moment to glance at him, wanting to see his reaction at her attitude.

Not that she was anxious he would find her repulsive or unworthy of having been invited to this outing.

Rather, what she saw was Cassian drinking lemonade, the sun making his dark hair shine like obsidian, her mouth suddenly dry as she watched him swallow.

“What sorcery is this? Why do I feel that way even with the smallest things he does?” Nesta asked herself. feeling her cheeks getting warmer and looking down at her empty plate.

She made her best to try and avoid looking at him again, jumping at the opportunity to make flower crowns with Gwyn while Emerie sketched some news designs in a small notebook she carried everywhere.

Soon she was lost in the calming motion of twisting and knotting the flowers together, all thoughts of Cassian momentary forgotten.

It was Emerie’s voice saying her name that brought her back to reality.

“I think Nesta may have something”

“What?” she asked, looking up to find both Cassian and her friend looking at her.

“I was wondering if any of you would have anything I could tie my hair with” he brushed his hair back, a few curly locks falling in front of his eyes “I forgot to bring my usual leather strap with me”

“I have a ribbon” Nesta said, fumbling in her purse for the spare she always carried.

Handing him the red ribbon, her heart skipped a beat when their hands touched. She could swear his touch lingered for longer than necessary.

She watched as he gathered his hair in a bun, failing again and again at tying it with the red piece of silk.

“Is the General Commander losing against a mere hair accessory?” Nesta could not help but tease.

“This is quite different from what I am used to” he sighed in defeat “I’m withdrawing from this fight. It seems I will have to bear with the sun for a little longer”

“I could tie it for you” she blurted out before she could hold her tongue back.

Cassian only blinked at her.

“I mean, if Your Grace allows and is not bothered by me touching your hair or—”

“I would be most honoured” he cut her nervous rambling, moving to sit in front of her.

"Pardon me then” Nesta breathless said, taking his hair on her hands.

His hair was much softer than she had imagined and she dared to wonder if had she accepted his proposal, Cassian would have let her brush his hair.

If her making those small braids to make it easier to tie his rebel locks would have been a frequent occurrence.

“Oh, how lovely Nesta!” Gwyn exclaimed and placed one flower crown on Cassian’s head “There! Now he’s perfect!”

“The General Commander of the British Armies wearing a flower crown and with braids on his hair! Ha! No one would believe me if I told them!” Balthazar exclaimed, having grown tired of fishing after his eighteenth catch.

Cassian’s land really was blessed with an abundance of fish.

“What are you laughing for? I also made one for you!” Gwyn said, dumping one crown with pink flowers in Balthazar’s head, making Emerie roar with laughter.

If Cassian appeared to be bothered, he did not let it show, and Nesta could not help but think he looked adorable, nothing like the famous Lord of Bloodshed, who had killed many enemies of the Crown in battle.

“Your friends are rather charming, my Lady” Cassian pointed out, watching Emerie and Balthazar bickering while Gwyn laughed at them.

“I hope we are not causing Your Grace much trouble”

“Not at all” he assured her “This is the most fun I have had in a long time”

Nesta hoped he was saying the truth and not being excessively polite.

The afternoon went on, the group deciding to call it a day and gathering their things. Nesta stayed a little behind the group, too busy trying to button her dress again to keep up with them.

“Those beautiful unpractical buttons” she muttered angrily, failing to put the flower shaped buttons in their place.

“Lady Nesta, is something the matter?”

Nesta almost let out a scream when she saw that Cassian had not left.

“I was just— “ her words died in her throat when Cassian got closer, his hands hovering over her dress.

“May I?” he inquired softly.

Nesta could only nod and pray to the Mother he could not feel her heart beating faster than racing horses. Up close and with his hair tied back neatly —  the small braids suited him more than she would have liked to admit —  she could pinpoint every scar he had, from the one on his left eyebrow to the small cut near his mouth.

Her fingers itched to trace them.

To kiss them.

To kiss him.

“There. All proper now” Cassian said, his voice a little hoarse.

“Thank you, sir” Nesta managed to say despite wanting to scream and melt inside.

They walked silently back to the main state, a comfortable silence between them.

Cassian desperately wanted to hold her hand, using once again the excuse of helping her get on the carriage to do just that.

“Shall you pay Pemberley a visit tomorrow?” he hopefully asked “I could show you the rest of the state”

“I shall be waiting for your call, sir” Nesta replied.

“And please accept this,” she added in a rushed tone, dropping a small object on his hand “ it is not much but I would like to show my gratitude for today.”

“I am most thankful” Cassian said, the carriage leaving before he could say anything else.

Looking at his hand, he realised he held a delicate daisy chain, no wonder made by Nesta while she and Gywn were making the flower crowns.

“I will treasure this forever” he said looking at the carriage turning smaller and smaller as it got away from Pemberley.

Tags: @sayosdreams​ @thewayshedreamed​ @sjm-things​ @perseusannabeth​ @arinbelle​ @caotica-e-quieta​ @vidalinav​ @swankii-art-teacher​ @ireallyshouldsleeprn​ @duskandstarlight​ @greerlunna​ @thegoddessaltenia​ @dayanna-hatter​ @verypaleninja​ @awesomelena555​ @courtofjurdan​ @valkyriewarriors​ @moe8​ @illyrianwitchling13​ @silvernesta​ @bri-loves-sunflowers​ @queenestarcheron​ @imwritingthesewords @vasudharaghavan​ @rainbowcheetah512​ @darkshadowqueensrule​ @letstakethedawn​ @starlightorstarfire​ @city-of-fae​ @thalia-2-rose​ @nestaarcher0n​ @rowaelinismyotp​ @julemmaes​ @dontgetsalmonella​ @alinaleksanders​ @lysandra-tiara9​ @inardour​ @hikari274​ @fatimafares123​ @angelina-figjam​ @castielspelvis​ @illyrianundercover​ @firebirdofscythia

{Please let me know if you’d like to be added to my Fixed Tag list}

[pitubea1910]

Something Just Like This

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Words: 4k

Warnings: -

Tags: -

Request: -

Notes: I had this little thing on my mind that I wanted to share with you guys, I hope you like it! It is based on the Coldplay song Something just like this, which I can’t get out of my head lately :)  Feedback is appreciated!

MASTERLIST

Growing up in Manhattan wasn’t as exciting as Gossip Girl pictured it to be. There were no parties every day, no gossip, no drama. At least not for you. Your parents had been quite strict since you were little, which meant that they hadn’t given you the freedom most of your friends had. It wasn’t like you wanted to do drugs or have sex at the age of 16, but you couldn’t help but feeling a bit left out every Monday morning at high school when all your friends talked about was last Saturday party.

That was probably the main reason why you moved out as soon as you could. And that was when you turned 18 and your parents allowed you to go to college in England. That first taste of freedom was much better than what you had expected. You could do anything you wanted, whenever you wanted and with whoever you wanted. Needless to say that you took full advantage of it.

You loved that life without your parents so much that, when you finally went back to New York, at the age 25, you told your parents you didn’t want to live with them anymore. Of course, they were enraged, but once you found a job that allowed you to pay for your own rent, they couldn’t find any other way to keep you at home. Eventually, they even contributed with your rent so you could afford a place that was ‘right for a classy woman like you are’, like your mum said.

At first, you even fought against it but who were you going to lie? You weren’t a fan of your neighbourhood in Queens. Neither you wanted to go back to Manhattan, but you found a lovely apartment in Brooklyn, with views to the Bridge, big windows and an open plan living room and kitchen. The moment you saw it, you fell in love with it and you didn’t want to visit any other apartment. By the end of the week, you were moving all your stuff into your new place.

Only if you knew how much your life was going to change thanks to that apartment.

You had been living in your Brooklyn apartment for two years when you met him. He happened to live in the building next to yours and your windows were in front of each other. The first time you saw him, putting boxes down in the room as he talked to a read-headed woman, you immediately recognised him: Steve Rogers, aka Captain America.

It wasn’t until a few weeks later that you ran into him when you were coming home from the grocery store on a Sunday morning and he was coming back from a run. You weren’t even paying attention to the crosswalk, too busy trying to get your keys out of your pocket without dropping the bag of groceries.

“Do you need a hand with that?”

You looked up to find a pair of blue eyes looking at you with humour in them. You had got so used to see him from your window or on TV that it felt weird to have him standing in front of you. And it all was better because he was wearing one of those grey t-shirts you had seen him wearing so many times. The ones that looked too small for him, but he still could pull off effortlessly.

“Actually I do”, you finally said with a smile.

Without another word, he took the brown bag from your hand so you finally could take the keys from your pocket. 

“Finally”, you said showing him the keys. “They were hooked on a loose thread”, you explained.

“I figured that much”, he nodded. “You live here, don’t you?” He asked pointing at the door of your building. You gave him a surprise look. “I’ve seen your through the window.”

“Okay…”, you chuckled, kind of glad that you weren’t the only one creepily looking through the window trying to catch a glimpse of him.

“And that was creepier than I expected”, he said with an awkward smile.

“Don’t worry”, you laughed. “I’ve seen you too”, you shrugged.

“I guess we’re a pair of creeps then”, he said making you laugh again. “Does the creep have a name?”

Smooth, you thought to yourself with a small smile.

“(Y/N) Holston”, you said and took some hair out of your face.

“Steve Rogers”, he said, although you already knew. “Do you need some help with this?” He asked lifting the bag he was still carrying.

“Oh, no”, you quickly said. “Don’t bother, I can take it.”

“It’s no bother”, he shrugged. “I can take it up for you.”

“I’m sure you have some avenging thing to do”, you said. He laughed out loud and nodded.

“Don’t worry”, he said. “No avenging today. The world looks pretty safe.”

You bite your lip, wondering whether to accept his help or not. He looked really nice and not creepy at all. And you had seen him so many times in his own bedroom that he felt almost familiar, so why not?

“Okay”, you finally said. “I can take the bag, though.”

“Then I wouldn’t have any excuse to keep on talking to you”, he said, walking with you to the door of your building.

“I didn’t know you were looking for an excuse”, you said, taking the right key and opening the door.

“I’ve been looking for one since I first saw you in your room, so don’t take it away from me”, he said with more confident than he actually felt.

The statement made your cheeks blush. You didn’t know what to say to that, so you just let him walk in first and followed behind. Although you were glad that you weren’t the only one wanting to talk to your neighbour and not knowing how. At least he had found a good excuse to do it and you were glad he had.

“Wow…” he said when he walked into the apartment after you made your way upstairs silently. “Fancier than it looks on the outside.”

“It was renovated a few years ago”, you told him and took the bag from his arms after closing the door. “Actually I was one of the first tenants here.”

“How long have you been here?” He asked, walking towards the big windows from where you could see the Brooklyn Bridge.

“Two years now”, you told him, taking the items out of the bag. “I was living in Queens for a time but I didn’t feel… like home, I guess.”

“I know a kid from Queens who’s actually pretty nice”, he said, now walking to the aisle that separated the living room from the kitchen.

“Yeah, people are nice”, you nodded. “But not my neighbours”, you chuckled. “Also, I’m closer to my job here.”

“What’s your job?” He asked.

“I’m a content writer and social media manager for a small magazine”, you said, now putting what you had bought in their right places.

“Sounds…busy”, he chuckled.

“It’s not that big of a deal”, you said with a smile. “Do you want something to drink?”

“Do you have beer?” He asked.

“I’m not a beer kind of girl”, you chuckled. “But I have white wine?”

“That will do”, he nodded.

You took a couple of glasses and put them on the aisle in front of Steve. Then, you took the bottle of wine from the fridge and took the cork off before pouring some into both glass.

“Fancy”, he said when you put the bottle back into the fridge.

“It’s a really cheap wine”, you laughed, leaning against the counter. “But I love it.”

“Tastes good”, he nodded. “Although I barely drink wine, except on elegant dinners and that kind of stuff.”

“Do you go to a lot of those?” You asked teasingly. He laughed.

“Sometimes we have to”, he admitted. “And some other times Tony forces me to go”, he shrugged, making you smile.

“You look good in a suit, though”, you shrugged. He raised both eyebrows while looking at you, making you blush.

Actually, the main reason you knew how he looked like in a suit was because your mum was always sending you articles about all the galas she went to and, of course, Steve Rogers had gone to many of them. You would be lying if you admitted that you didn’t look at his photos closely, but who could blame you? He did look good in a suit.

“I don’t live under a rock”, you shrugged. “I read the newspaper from time to time.”

“I see”, he nodded with a small smile. You took the glass to your lips so you didn’t have to say anything else. “Anyway, I was thinking”, he suddenly said after finishing his glass. “You seem to know how to behave in fancy environments, don’t you?”

“What makes you think that?” You asked with a laugh.

“First, this apartment”, he said making a gesture that covered the place. “I bet you work really hard but I think that a content writer slash social media manager salary can’t afford this, which means that you’re family is… in good places, am I right?”

“You’re not wrong”, you said, surprised at how observant he was.

You didn’t feel entirely comfortable saying that your dad had insisted on buying the apartment a year after you moved in. It made you feel like one of those Manhattan spoiled rich kids, which you weren’t. Not at all. All you actually had to pay were the bills and your salary was more than enough for it.

“Also, who drinks wine at noon instead of beer?”

“A lot of people!” You exclaimed making him laugh.

“Honestly, I just saw you getting out of a black Audi with a driver last week”, he finally said.

Last week had been your mum’s birthday, so you had spent a whole day with them. At the end of it, you were ready to wait for an Uber, but your mum had your family driver -Albert- drive you home.

“Okay, fine”, you finally said, knowing there was no point on denying anything. “I was born in Manhattan. Rich family and all. I left to study in England and when I came back I didn’t want to keep on living with my parents, so I found a place in Queens.”

“But you didn’t like it”, he said, remembering what you had previously said.

“Exactly”, you nodded. “I found this apartment, which rent was way cheaper than what you probably think”, you said making him chuckle. “And I moved here. Anyway, my father has never liked me paying for anything so he bought the whole apartment a year after I moved”, you shrugged.

“Wow”, he said surprised.

“I know”, you sighed. “I’m not proud of it but at least I pay the bills and groceries and everything I can afford. So, to answer your question, I basically grew up in fancy environments. My mum used to drag me along to every single gala or whatever thing she had going on.”

“I think it’s great, to be honest”, he shrugged. “It doesn’t look like your father gave you too many options when he bought this place, so I think it’s admirable that you still work to pay the bills.”

“I hate owing him anything, so it’s the least I can do to have as much freedom as possible”, you explained. “Anyway, why did you ask?”

“You’ll probably say no and I completely understand”, he said. “But… Tony is holding another charity event at the MoMa this weekend and I have to be there, but I don’t want to go alone, you know?”

“The Stark Foundation MoMa Gala?” You asked, your boss had been going crazy trying to find someone to get into the gala to write an article about it.

“That’s the one”, he nodded. “Would you come with me?”

“Actually… my boss would love me if I could get in it”, you said.

“Really?”

“Yeah, but I don’t want you to think that I’m taking advantage or something”, you quickly said.

“Don’t worry”, he smiled. “It didn’t even cross my mind. So… would you?”

“Of course”, you nodded with a smile. “I’d love to be your date.”

“Is it a date?” He said, his smile bigger.

“I guess it is”, you shrugged, blushing once again.

That weekend you went together to the MoMa gala and it wasn’t the last time you had a date. You ended up getting together most nights of the week, either at his apartment or at yours, although mostly it was at yours. You would watch movies, cook together, play board games, any time off you both had was spent together.

So it was just a matter of time before something else happened and it did just a month later. You had been at Steve’s apartment since you came back from work and it was when you were saying goodbye at his door, that he finally took his chance and kissed you. It was a short and tender kiss, but it was enough to open the door for many more.

In two months you were officially dating and in three months he finally took you the Stark Tower to meet everyone. You couldn’t remember being more nervous than you were that day. Walking out of the elevator to find Natasha Romanoff, Bucky Barnes and Sam Wilson just playing poker was something you never thought you would see, but they welcomed you into the family with open arms and soon you were playing poker with them.

Six months after meeting him, you thought you couldn’t be happier and neither did Steve. He was hanging in his apartment, picking up the clothes he would use for his date with you that night. You had called him that morning to tell him that you had managed to get tickets to go to the movies that night so it was only a matter of time before you arrived from your work to head to the cinema.

“You look like a little girl before her first date”, Bucky, who was with Steve in his apartment, said as he watched his best friend trying to decide which shirt would be better for that night.

“Leave me alone”, Steve said with a smile. He finally decided he would use the navy one, knowing how much you loved that colour on him.

“You really like her, right?” He asked. Steve smiled and nodded.

“I do”, Steve said. “I’ve never felt this happy, Buck. She… she completes me”, he tried to explain.

“I’m happy for you”, Bucky nodded. “But be careful.”

“Why?” Steve asked confused.

“I just don’t want you getting hurt, that’s all”, Bucky shrugged.

“(Y/N) would never hurt me.”

Bucky sighed and looked down at his shoes. That was Steve’s problem. Ever since the 40s he always thought that everyone was just good. It didn’t matter everything they had gone through, what he had gone through, he still through there was good in everyone.

“You’re the Captain America, Steve”, Bucky said.

“So?”

“What if she just likes the strips?”

“She’s not like that”, Steve shook his head, although he had to admit that it had never crossed his mind.

“How do you know that?” Bucky asked.

“I thought you liked her”, Steve frowned, crossing his arms.

“I do, but I want you to be careful”, Bucky repeated. “Anyway, I have to go. Sam needs some help winning a bet”

Steve walked Bucky to the door, his head still spinning from what Bucky had said. You didn’t care about him being Captain America… you liked him because of Steve Rogers, not the superhero. But what if you did? What if he wasn’t the Cap anymore? Would you still like him?

He wasn’t the insecure type, but he had never liked anyone the he liked you, and he suddenly worried about you not liking him the way he liked you. Maybe the last six months hadn’t meant the same for both of you and the idea of that being true broke his heart.

Just then, he heard his phone buzzing on top of the table. It was probably you telling him you had already gone out of the subway and were five minutes away. He took the phone and, indeed, he found your name on the screen. You were a few minutes away and he didn’t feel like going anywhere. With a heavy heart, he looked for your number and called you.

“Hey there!” You said happily on the other side. “I’m just a block away. I’m thinking about buying some snacks before going to the cinema?”

“I’m sorry but I’m not going to be able to make it tonight”, he said all of sudden. There was a small silence in the line.

“Oh…” you finally said. “What happened?”

“Tony called for an urgent meeting at the Tower”, he quickly said, coming up with that lie way faster than he expected.

“Okay”, you sighed. “Don’t worry about it. See you tomorrow?”

“I have to go to D.C”, he said. “I think we are going to be there a couple of days.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot”, you said.

You spoke to him so many times throughout the day that it was easy to say when there was something off. And there was something really wrong at the moment. You only wished you could know what it was, but it looked like he wasn’t willing to share what was on his mind. At least for now.

“Then give me a call when you come back?” You asked, after a few minutes of silent, when you were already getting to your building.

“Sure”, he said. “I gotta go.”

Before you had the chance to say anything, he hung up. You frowned looking at the screen and then looked up at his building, where you knew his living room was, but there was no sign of anyone. Quickly, you made your way up to your apartment and headed towards your room to look at his apartment but, for the first time, you found the curtains completely closed, keeping you from seeing anything inside.

What was going on?

The next few days you barely heard from Steve. He sent you a quick text when he landed in D.C., but you didn’t know anything else until he arrived at his apartment. And it wasn’t like he had texted you or anything, you just saw the lights in his room. You checked your phone in case you didn’t have service, but it was working perfectly. However, you decided to wait, maybe he was just unpacking and taking a shower.

A couple of hours later he hadn’t said anything yet and you didn’t know if you should text him or just keep on waiting. It was impossible that he thought that you wouldn’t see the lights when you had spent the last six months checking for those lights in order to talk to each other. It had become a habit for both of you. Still, you decided that waiting was the best option. Maybe something was going on at the Tower and he was dealing with it.

But when you texted him next morning and he didn’t text back and you still saw him getting into one of Tony’s Audis from your window, you just knew that something was really wrong. The main problem was that there was no way to find out what it was. You hadn’t said anything to him to make him get mad at you, right?

There was only one way to find out. You had to go to his apartment and face him. But he didn’t come back. It only meant that you would have to go the Stark Tower. Even if that meant that you had to talk to him in front of the whole team you didn’t care, you had the right to know why your boyfriend was ignoring you.

After taking a shower and getting ready, you took your bag with your wallet, keys and phone and let your apartment when the Uber app told you that your ride was waiting. Luckily, the traffic wasn’t as horrible as usual and you made your way to the Tower in less than thirty minutes.

You would be lying if you said that you weren’t nervous about facing Steve, but you were more worried about what was going on and wanted to fix it. Whatever it took. You had gone to the Tower so many times that the security guards that were by the private elevator that went straight to the Avengers HQ let you in without any inconvenience. Definitely, being Steve’s girlfriend had its perks.

When you walked out of the elevator, you were surprised to see no one. Usually, there was always someone watching TV or reading a book or just hanging in the living room, but nothing. Still, you made your way into the place and waited until you heard some muffled voices coming from the kitchen. As you got closer, you recognised Steve’s and Bucky’s voices. You were going to just irrupt in there, but you stopped when you heard your name.

“You can’t hide from (Y/N) forever, Steve”, Bucky was saying.

“I’m not hiding”, Steve said.

“This is the first night you’ve spent here since you met her, are you going to say that’s a coincidence?” Bucky asked but there was no answer. “Look, sorry I said what I said. I was just worried about you.”

“But what if you were right?” Steve finally asked. You frowned as you listened closely. “What if Steve Rogers isn’t enough? What if who she really likes is Captain America?”

“That’s bullshit”, Nat’s voice suddenly spoke up. You didn’t even know she was in there. “She’s completely infatuated with you, Steve. I don’t think she even cares about the stripes and the shield.”

“How do you know that?” Steve sighed.

“Well, I don’t, but I have eyes and what I see is a girl in love with you. With Steve Rogers”, she said. “Has she ever talked about you as Captain America?”

“No…”, Steve said after a few moments. “Not really. All she has said was that she loves the navy suit.”

“Even I do”, Natasha said, making you almost laugh, but you didn’t. “If you’re so full of doubts, just talk to her, but stop hiding like a little boy.”

Before any of them walked out of the kitchen and saw you there, ears dropping, you made your way back to the elevator silently. So that was the problem. Steve thought he wasn’t enough. How could he even think that? And how could you prove that it was bullshit, just like Nat had said?

When you walked out of the Tower and headed to the subway to go back home, you texted Steve, telling him to go to your place that night. You two had to talk.

It wasn’t until he texted you back that you breathed again. You were a bit scared at the thought of him saying no, but he said he would be there at 9 p.m. You spent the rest of the afternoon on your computer, finishing some work-related stuff you hadn’t been able to finish at the office and you had to turn in as soon as possible. Before you realised it, it was eight o’clock and you hadn’t even showered nor made dinner.

Since you weren’t going to have time to make some proper dinner, you just decided to order some Chinese food from Steve’s favourite restaurant. If he was comfortable enough, he would be more willing to speak to you. Or so you hoped.

As always, Steve was punctual and at 9 p.m. sharp there was a knock on your door. The Chinese food had arrived a few minutes earlier so it was still hot, meaning he was just in time. When you opened the door, a smile appeared on your face. It had been only a few days since you had last seen him, but you just realised how much you had actually missed him.

Immediately, you wrapped your arms around his torso, hiding your face in his chest with a content sigh as he hugged you back. As nervous as you were, his presence was as comforting as always.

Steve had missed you like crazy. It didn’t matter how worried he was, how insecure he was feeling. The moment he felt you close, he felt complete again, like he was home. The scent of your hair, your warmth, your smile. You were everything to him and the thoughts that had been haunting him for the last days were a completely nightmare.

“I missed you”, you said.

“I missed you too”, he sighed.

“I ordered Chinese”, you said, finally letting him walk in.

“Ching Pao?” He asked, taking off his jacket.

“Always”, you nodded. “And extra rolls”, you added.

“You’re the best”, he said with a soft smile.

You spent a few minutes setting up at the table with dishes and glasses before you sat down at the table, in front of each other.

“How was D.C.?” You asked.

“Boring”, he said. “Meeting after meeting and a gala”, he added.

“I’m sorry you didn’t have your fancy reunion expert with you”, you said.

“I wish I had her”, he smiled at you, but you noticed that the smile didn’t reach his eyes. You sighed and looked down at your plate for a moment, you couldn’t wait anymore.

“What’s wrong, Steve?” You asked.

“What do you mean?” He asked, avoiding your eyes.

“Are we really going to do this thing when you pretend not to know what I’m talking about?” You asked. Steve sighed and put down his chopsticks.

“Do you like me being Captain America?” He asked. You narrowed your eyes and shrugged.

“I like that you are, I’m very proud of you, but it’s not what I like the most”, you replied.

“Then what is? What could you possible like about me besides who I am?” He asked.

“Are you saying that you’re not good enough if you’re not Captain America?” You asked. He didn’t reply, but when he looked away, you sighed. “Steve, I don’t care about it. If tomorrow you said you wanted to hang the suit and drop the shield, my feelings for you wouldn’t change.”

“How do you know?” He asked.

“Because, Steve, I’m not looking for a superhero. All I want is someone who’s there for me, someone I can kiss, someone I can turn to when I need him”, you said. “I’m looking for something…something just like this”, you shrugged. “And Captain America doesn’t give me that. Steve Rogers does”, you added.

Steve was looking down at his food the whole time. You had no idea how good your words were been to him, how much they meant. Just with them, you were fixing that crack that had appeared in his chest a few days ago.

“I fell for Steve Rogers, my neighbour, my best friend”, you smiled a little, reaching out to take his hand. “And I am incredibly proud of you for being Captain America, I really am. But you’ve been Captain America for a long time before we met and I didn’t fell in love with you until I met you.”

He finally looked up at you and couldn’t help but smile when he met your eyes. You had said “in love”, you were in love with him and he couldn’t express how much that meant for him. Finally, he got up from his chair and walked around the table to kneel next to you.

“I love you too”, he smiled, taking your hands in his. “And I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry about”, you said, turning your body so you were facing him. “But next time you’re feeling worried about my feelings for you… why don’t you just tell me so we can avoid all this?”

“Noted”, he nodded.

With a smile, he placed a hand on your cheek and pulled you closer to him, sealing the deal with a kiss that had you both grinning into it like idiots.

“By the way”, you said. “I love you.”

“I know”, he smiled widely before kissing you again, deeper this time, making you both forget about the now cold Chinese food for the rest of the night.