One-Shots | Bucky Barnes & Steve Rogers (and actors)

What is love? [s.s.]

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Reader
Prompt: "How could you possibly love me? You don't even know what love is!" (via me)
Warning: Sad, angst, language, shitty dad, brief assumed (non-sexual) nudity, one allusion to smut, etc. This is unedited.
A/N: I know its been a while, but I have been sick, and everyone knows how that is. On top of that, my life has just been a mess for the past week (on top of being sick) so ... this one kind of hits close to home. Enjoy.

You had tried, your entire life – at least the parts you remember – to truly love your father. Everyone told you stories, how when you were little the two of you were close, he was great, the whole shebang. It was hard to believe; you had no memory of it. Still, in those times when his most shitty side would come out, you tried to hold on to those words.

Two years ago, you gave up. You cut him out of your life. From them on, it was fine. Your parents got divorced – it was a long time coming, you remained close with his side of the family, most of them at least, and your relationship with your mom was great. You were fine.

The topic was always a sore subject between you and Sebastian. He met you, fell in love with you, all of it, after you cut your dad off. You explained everything to him, but he still urged you to reach out one last time.

"Just once. It might make you feel better." He urges, the sandwich already poised to enter his waiting mouth. You roll your eyes.

"I doubt it. I am fine. I don't need him." You reply, munching on your own sandwich.

"I know that babe, but do you want him? Do you want that father figure back?"

As much as you hated to admit it, you did. You wanted that male person that would always have your back, even if in the back of your mind you knew it would never be him. "Okay." You sigh.

"Okay."

~

Your hand stills as you ready yourself to knock on his door, his shitty apartment door. Even while driving you were questioning yourself as to why you really needed this. You had told yourself for years that you were fine without him, didn't need him, but here you are. You knock.

"Who is it?" His voice yells. You close your eyes, preparing yourself for him, for the meeting.

"Samantha." You hear the footsteps, clumsy, but you expected that.

"Finally decided to grace me with your presence, huh?" He prods while opening the door. The smell of smoke and drugs hit you as soon as he does.

"Hi." Even that is hard choke out through the wall of scent that hits you.

"Two years and all you say is "hi"?" He's angry, you can see it, hear it.

"What do you want me to say Dad? That your place reeks of drugs? That you stink of booze? That I don't know what I'm doing here?"

"Maybe I want an apology!"

"For what?" Even after he closes the door, the smells continue to attack you. At this point you are almost afraid you'll get high off them.

"For cutting me off!"

"I had too!" You scream, arms flailing. "You were toxic!"

"I was doing what a good father would!" He counters. It hits you then. Everything he was doing, was normal for him. It's what his dad did to him.

"How was belittling me ever chance you got normal? How was choosing drugs and your dead-beat friends over me and mom normal? You're an addict Dad! One that refuses to get help!"

"I'm not an addict!" The conversation isn't new, it's all too familiar, but the pain is still there.

"Yes, you are!" You're crying. You know you shouldn't, but you are. You've shed far too many tears for this man.

"I was just trying to be a loving father! Even when you didn't love me in return!"

"You right, I didn't." You mumble. He doesn't hear it.

"Well?" He shouts.

"I said you're right!" He doesn't even seem to care that this is break you. "But how could you possibly love me? You don't even know what love is!" You scream.

You don't wait for his response as you leave, slamming the door behind you. His irate shouting can still be heard, echoing in your head as you drive away. Every words plays in your head like a broken record, and the tears are freefalling now.

Even as you throw your coat and keys down, you still cry. You hadn't realized how much you wanted him to be better until you saw him like that. It shattered that small hope you still had of there every being a relationship.

Your sitting in the chair, the one no one sits in, when Sebastian come in. He can see the redness on your face and his heart sinks. Still he asks, he has too. "How did it go?" His voice is quiet as he approaches, the lingering smell hitting him. You never bothered to shower after your visit.

"How does it look like it went?" You answer, voice scratchy from your sobbing earlier. He only nods.

"Alright, well let's get you in the shower. Okay?" You sniffle but nod. He grabs your hands, pulling you up, trying to hide the face he makes as a new wave of scent hits him. You notice.

He helps you rid yourself of your clothes while turning on the shower, the steam billowing out. You can feel yourself starting to break down again with each layer of clothing he peels off. "C'mon Samantha." He urges, quietly, as he steps in, holding out his hand for you.

You take it, following him into the hot spray. As soon as it hits you, you start to sob again. "Seb." You choke out between cries, clinging to him under the water.

His hands rub up and down your back, trying to calm you. "I'm sorry." He says, his voice sounding a but teary. "I'm sorry I pushed you."

"I needed to know."

"I know you did. I just hate seeing you like this."

You hug him tighter, clinging to the man you love. Clinging to the man that truly loves you. The two you just stand there, under that harsh spray of the shower and let the water wash away all the pain and hurt.

"I love you Seb."

"I love you too Samantha."

Hours after your shower the two of you lay together, pressed against one another in bed. And just as you start to drift off you know. You know in your bones that this is what love is. It's the comfortable silence, it's the hand holding just when you need it, it's the kisses in the dark for nothing other than 'just because,' it's the early morning love making that is all lazy but full of enough love to light up a room. It's everything you already have with the man laying next to you.

~ Sam(antha)