Steve Rogers One Shots

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Sequel to Stay

~~~ Reader ~~~

You huddle up in the crumpled blankets as yet another Disney movie makes it's way up onto your screen. The minute Steve had said those words, you made a beeline to Stark Tower, where you knew there was the one and only person who wanted to see. Natasha.

After your relationship with Steve strengthened, Natasha was your go-to person for anything, whether it be a day out in the mall, period help, or just a plain old talk. You had been hoofing it out in her room for three days now.

Three days without Steve.

The thought always brought an endless onslaught of tears. You were so, so close to going back to that apartment and forgiving Steve for everything, but something in your mind was repeating the same damn sentence over and over again.

"I don't need you to look after me."

There it was. Right there. Steve didn't need you. Not your love, or your hugs, or your kisses, or your god damn time. He just didn't.

If you only knew how wrong you were.

~~~ Steve ~~~

Disgusting. Pathetic. Weak.

Alone.

I was all of these things and more at the moment. Three days I had neither heard nor seen her, and yet things couldn't possibly be worse. I swear I was at the verge of a nervous breakdown, and the apartment....

Was cleaner than ever.

It was strange. No dishes in the sink, the counter tops sparkling clean. It was as if I had tried to organize my life through my home. But this isn't my home.

My home is with (Y/N).

~~~ Reader ~~~

You towel-dry your body after your long shower, slipping into some jeans, grabbing your keys and your-

Wait. This wasn't yours.

Of course, it was the same supple leather and creamy brown, it was way too big to be your jacket. The shoulders sloped off onto your arms and the pockets were actually decent. It was warm and soft and-

Steve's.

You run your fingers over the cloth by your palms, where Steve would clench his hands in times of worry or stress. The zipper was shiny and new, unused considering he never zipped up the damn thing no matter how many times you told him.

One pocket seemed to droop lower than the other, a subtle weight tugging it down. You slip your hand into it, biting your lip when you find soft velvet brushing the pads of your fingertips.

Oh my god.

You pick up the small box and place it in the palm of your hand, observing the dark, maroon velvet, the brass springs holding it shut.

Steve wanted to marry you.

God, after everything that had just happened, and he had been thinking about marriage? Just the idea sent butterflies into your stomach, you eyes pricking with tears. You had to go see him, you had to tell him...

What?

That you had mended your ways? That you had changed your mind, and wanted him back? He would never forgive you. Not after all of....that.

Besides, was really worth reopening those wounds? All the pain, and the tears, and the heartbreak?

Yes.

Yes, you wanted to see him. Even if was just one last time, you wanted to know. Did he mean those things? Steve had said harsh things in times of anger, so it wouldn't be a first.

You quickly walk yourself to the apartment and stand at the front door, shaking like a leaf. Your mouth felt like someone had poured a gallon of glue into it. Your knuckles hover over the smooth wood, your eyes watering as the brass numbers present a distorted reflection of your face.

And then the door opens.

And Steve's standing there with the most shocked expression on his face. His eyes are dark and ringed with bags, his chin and neck sprinkled with stubble. His eyes are so dull, so empty, you couldn't bear to even say anything.

"(Y/N)?"

Three days, and your name on his tongue was like music to your ears. His shirt is wrinkled beyond belief, and he looks like a zombie. You had never seen him so...broken. You had left him like this.

The guilt weighs down on your chest like a boulder, your chest becoming constricted with each exhale.

"Steve..."

The tears are running down your face before you can begin to comprehend what's happening, and then Steve has his arms around you, clutching you to him as a child would his teddy bear.

"I'm so sorry, Steve. God, I'm so fucking sorry..."

"Sshh...It's okay. I'm here.  I'm right here." 

 He buries his nose into your hair, pressing kisses all over your head and face. He wipes away the tears with each onslaught, not bothering to cover up his own. He slowly backtracks into the apartment with you still buried in his chest, shutting the door when he gets inside.

"I missed you, Darling. The bed's been so cold...I can't sleep without you there."

You sob even harder into his chest, holding him tightly as you cry so hard your throat goes dry. 

"I am willing to change.  Fury said after this mission he's gonna give me a couple weeks off.  Not even a scrap of paper work.  Just us, I promise."

 Steve simply presses kisses to whatever skin he can find, skimming your face with the tip of his nose. His hands weave into your hair, stroking your cheeks with his thumbs.

"Steve."

"Yeah?"

You pull away a bit, watching his face drop, then go expressionless when you press the ring box into his hand. He stares at the thing almost with hatred, then looks at you with something like panic.

"We don't have to rush. I-I can wait, and maybe-"

"Yes."

Steve stares at your lips for a brief second, confusion washing over his features.

"What?"

"Yes, Steve. I want to marry you. I want to go home."

He swallows, looking down at the box and then at you, disbelief practically written on his forehead. He runs the thumb still resting on your cheek down to your lips.

"And where's that?"

"With you."

He's kissing you with passion before you can even blink, his one arm wrapping about your abdomen and his other hand tightening its grip in your hair. Your knees go weak as you try to get your arms around his neck, but they end up squished between your chests.  

"Steve, I love you."

He releases you from his grip and pecks you on the lips, his fingers winding with your own.  "I love you too."  

He gently slips the ring onto your finger, and you look down to see a beautiful diamond ringed with a rainbow of stones, glittering against your skin.

"What do you think?"

You run your thumb over the gem, marveling at it's beauty.  "It's gorgeous."

"Just like you."

"Such a cheese ball," you giggle, wrapping your fingers around his wrist.  "By the way," you add, "you said the bed was cold."

He raises an eyebrow.

"Why don't we go warm it up?"