The Choice (Steve Rodgers x Reader)

Twenty Three

"Deep deep down in the deep blue sea, hungry fishes waiting for their tea..." you slowly lowered Dorothy's back off of you and near the floor before pulling her back up, dropping her down again. "Dead or alive?" She squealed with laughter and you did it again.
"Always a favourite I see." Steve smiled from the other sofa, peering over his newspaper.
You smile and let her stand on your lap, bringing her face close to yours. "She's always loved that. Especially when mommy does it. Don't you?" You grinned as she nodded. "Yes!" You exploded before peppering her face in kisses.
"No mommy!" She giggled. You did it again. "No!" She squealed, still grinning. "Seeb." She turned to look at Steve, her nickname for him catching his attention.
"Want me to save you from mommy?" She nodded. Steve went to get up but you were already standing, Dorothy on your hip.
"You'll never get the princess from me!" You bellowed before running off.
He shot up and followed you quickly. "I'll save you Dot!" He shouted playfully.
You ran down the hallways, Steve hot on your heels as you twisted and turned corners.
You pressed you and your child against your door, out of breath and laughing.
"Stay back!" You giggled, Dorothy reaching out for him.
"Or what?" He crept forward.
"Or I'll have Aunty Wander give you nightmares."
"No!" Dorothy protested.
He quickly snatched the child as soon as he was close enough. "See? Told you I'd save you." You rolled your eyes, going to stand closer to Steve. He took you under the arm that wasn't holding Dot and smiled down at you.
You got out of his grasp and head towards the kitchen. "I'm going to start dinner. Spaghetti bolognese sound good?" You walked backwards as you asked.
"Sounds amazing, doesn't it Dot?" He looked towards her with a smile.
"Yes!" She smiled back, arms in the air to express her excitement. Her icy blue eyes shone cheekily, just like Bucky's used to.

As you added the ingredients to the sauce a certain smell made a memory flash through your mind.

"Why are you cooking?" Sam raised an eyebrow at you as you stirred the contents together. "You never cook."
"I always cook." You countered. "You just always have takeout." Shrugging, you went back to stirring the pasta.
Sam watched you intently. "So why are you cooking?" You rolled your eyes and smirked at him.
"If you must know, it's for James. He'll be arriving any minute." You looked towards the door and then back to the food.
"And you're just gonna bombard him with a full meal upon arrival?" Sam leant on the side next to you.
"Sam...the guys not had a proper meal in 70 years." You looked over to him with a sympathetic look.
"He's also a mass murderer." He pointed out.
"So was I when the team picked me up. Do I not deserve good food and shelter?" Sam huffed at your reply.
"That was different..."
"How?" He stayed quiet. "If anything it was worse. I'd kill people just for a bit of cash because my own parents didn't want me. They threw me out. I was conscious through all of my assassinations and never had a moral compass about it...James wasn't aware of who he was, never mind what he was doing." Sam looked away, ass handed to him by your explanation. "So you can either sulk and whine about him, or you can join us for a nice meal and play friendly for the night, okay?" He rolled his eyes but agreed, grabbing the plates from the cupboard.

That was so long ago, it felt like an eternity. Once Bucky had arrived and found his room, he hastily joined you, Steve and Sam for a meal. No one else joined, politely requested by Steve, as not to freak his best friend out. He was quiet and, if you remember correctly, had continued to drown himself in the water you provided. Steve had later told you that Bucky found it too salty since he wasn't used to food.
You smiled at the memory. It was all a little simpler then. No single parenting, no skipping of missions, no being in love with your dead boyfriends life long best friend.
Hold on...
You froze at your thought. Did you really love Steve? Of course you had feelings for him, you had pushed that down since you asked him to be Dorothy's god father, but were actually in love with him?
The answer was, of course you were. But this isn't one of those moments of "holy crap I'm in love with someone suddenly". It's the moment of recognition of those feelings you've repressed for so long. Feelings that have been blocked out by grief, like a cloud blocking the sun.
You smiled again.
You're in love with Steve.

"Smells good." A hand rested on your lower back as Steve looked over your shoulder. "Looks good too." He paused. "Good last meal." He mused. You slapped his chest, not bothering to look up at him.
"That's not funny." You grumbled, adding an ingredient to the mix.
He leant next to you and smiled. "Come on. You know I always come home to my girls." You finally spared him a glance, smiling slightly as you did. "Your girls?" You mused.
"Yeah. Tony and Sam, who else?" You snorted and shoved his shoulder with your own. "I'm kidding. It'll always be you I come home to." His voice now held a softness to it. Like he wasn't joking anymore.
You looked up at him and saw his eyes had done the same as his voice, glancing down at you with such care and adoration. "Steve." You cooed, dragging him in for a hug by his waist.
When you pulled back, your hands remained on his waist as his rested on your shoulders.
You smiled at each other contently, your smile slowly fading as you remained eye contact, Steve's hands sliding up to your cheeks.
Your eyes flicked towards his lips, curious as to how they'd feel.
They were getting closer. This you're sure of. Or maybe not? Maybe you're just wishful thinking.
"Mommy!" Dot squealed as she ran to you, clinging on to your leg. You and Steve broke apart as you smiled down at your child, stroking her hair softly.
You looked up to Steve quickly and saw he had already turned to get the plates out.
You couldn't see if he looked regretful, disappointed or just neutral.
Was that a nearly kiss?
Guess you'll never know.