#and sorry for me probably oversharing this is what you get with tired and defeated night!!

[the-kipsabian]

51, 56, 67, 97! <3

51. What can make you dislike someone very quickly? ..bad taste of humor. i know its subjective, but if you make jokes/"jokes" about stuff that i like, people i like, people im close to or anything related to my personal life including my pronouns and/or orientation, yeah you are a shit person bye :)

also as a side note, recently ive noticed that im getting annoyed by people who have "wrong" takes about my blorbos and im just asdfghjkl wow

56 answered here

67. What did you need to hear as a child? the real name of my social anxiety. ive seen the doctors notes from when i was diagnosed (i was like nine or ten when my condition was finally taken seriously enough to name it) and my parents knew what i had. that it was a disorder. so sever i had to see a psychologist for it for a long time. and all this time, i never had a name to put on that thing and i couldnt explain it that i had a literal disorder, so what did i call it all this time until years later when i went to get help for this on my own again? me being shy. like in the hindsight i get it why i was never told, i was a child after all, but having all of this since i was seven years old and having it masked for me as being shy when i knew i was seeing therapists and psychologists for it and it wasnt normal... yeah it fucked me up for a long time tbh

97. What is a trivial hill that you are willing to die on? kip is bisexual change my mind (tho i will willingly roll down this hill if he says differently himself lol)

[manawhaat]

Welcome to Womanhood

Title: Welcome to Womanhood

Characters: Steve x Reader, Tony, Sam, Wanda, Natasha, Bruce, Pepper. 

Summary: When you’re faced with seeing a gynecologist, Steve and Tony don’t understand your hangups.

Prompt: No One Believes Them - for @star-spangled-bingo

Warnings: Angst, feelings of panic/fear/anger, brief mentions of past mental trauma, doctor’s offices, gynecologists/ gynecological descriptions, tmi, slight fluff, slight sexy vibes? 

Word Count: 6k

A/N: Written for Star Spangled Bingo. This fic stems directly from personal history and experiences and it’s an overshare and super specific but writing it has helped me so fuck it. FYI, any dramatization or exaggeration of time in this fic are based on the exact wait times of my own gyno visit last month. Thank you @thelittleredwhocould for the beta and thank you to anyone who reads this 👍

“Ms. Y/l/n, Mr. Stark has an appointment for you today.”

“Does he, now? Cause I don’t remember having Dr. Stark and Banner in my calendar, F.R.I.D.A.Y.”

“This appointment was scheduled today.”

“Well how ever am I supposed to know if I have time for an appointment if it’s scheduled at the last minute?” you tease, voice all sing-song and high pitched. Steve and Sam smirk at your back and forth from the kitchen island.

Before the program can respond Tony rounds the corner with Wanda and Nat on his tail, knocking on the counter top to get your attention.

“Speak of the devil.” Sam winks in your direction and your mouth draws into smile.

“I’m gonna pretend I didn’t hear that,” Tony snarks at Sam. “Anyway, I’m gonna need to steal you away for a bit, Y/n. Doc’s waiting.”

“What kind of doctor am I seeing today, Anthony? I thought you and Bruce were gonna do all of our check ups, and last time I checked, you were done with me.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t think Cap, here, would want me or Banner up close and personal with your fun bits, even with all of my-” he clears his throat and paints on a cocky grin- “experience in the field. So I’ve brought in one of the best. Pepper’s doctor already did those two-” he waves a finger at Nat and Wanda at the other side of the island with Steve and Sam- “so we’re just waiting on you.”

A pit forms in your stomach and a lump fills your throat. “A- a gynecologist?”

“Yeah, last stop on the Health Express. Now, all aboard,” Tony jokes, completely amused by himself as he fake toots a train horn, oblivious to the panic in your eyes.

“No.”

Steve’s eyes lift from his notebook at your answer. The moment he takes in your stance, defensive and scared, he knows something is wrong.   

“Oh, come on. You’ve sat there for every test we’ve done. Don’t get doctor shy on me, now. He’s great, right girls?” He claps his hands and opens them to the women behind Sam.

Wanda nods. “Very gentle.”

“Probably the best I’ve ever seen,” Natasha agrees.

“See? He’s stellar, so let’s go and we’ll get it over with and have you back here in a jiffy.”

Your head shakes back and forth in disbelief. “This can’t be happening.” It’s a whisper that no one hears and when Tony reaches for your wrist you snap and lose any semblance of cool you’d been holding onto. “Don’t fucking touch me!” The tone of your voice and fire in your eyes is enough for the guys to stand from their chairs as the girls look on with concerned eyes.

“Easy, tiger,” Tony coos, hands up in surrender.

“How dare you, Tony?”

Tired of your ‘outburst’, he deadpans, “It’s just a check up, Y/n.”

“How could you just decide this for me? Without even asking me or giving me time to-”

“Y/n, sweetheart,” Steve coos, walking around the island to de-escalate the situation.

“This is my body. Not yours. Goddammit! You have absolutely no right to grant anyone access to my body, to something so intimate,” you rage, torn apart with anger that Tony could make you feel so violated.

“Y/n, hey, look at me.”

When Steve is shoulder to shoulder with Tony, you freeze. As comforting as your boyfriend usually is, he’s too big and he’s caging you in, only adding to the fear filling you to the brim. It’s a defense mechanism, but your fists curl at your sides as he slowly approaches.

“Stop,” you plead, eyes dangerously close to spilling tears.  

He does, and before anyone can blink a red hue fills their eyes. The posture they’d adopted to make themselves look smaller fades away and they turn to walk out of the room. Eyes darting from person to person, you find Wanda with energy flowing from her fingertips, mercifully removing them from the situation long enough for you to dart out of the room with Sam on your heels.

Sam calls after you, a gentle hand wrapping around your upper arm. “Hey, hey, hold up. Are you okay?”

“I- fuck!”

His hands wrap around your shoulders, his soft, concerned eyes anchoring you as he takes a breath that you mimic. “It’s okay. It’s just me. Do you want me to take you somewhere for a while?” he asks, knowing you need something but not quite knowing what exactly that is.

“Sam, I know you wanna help, but I can’t, okay. Maybe later, but for now, please just let me go,” you ask, shaking in his hold. He instantly takes a step back and raises his hands for you to leave, shooting you a small nod at the silent ‘thank you’ in your eyes.

Wanda and Natasha find you on the rooftop, face buried in your knees where you sit curled up in one of the plush deck chairs set out for sunbathing. The two take seats on either side of you, offering comfort that only another woman can provide.

Nat breaks the silence. “You okay?”

A wave of uneasiness fills you but slowly subsides into a feeling closer to guilt. “Uhm, I don’t know. But I’m sorry for all of that. And thank you for what you did, Wanda.”

“I saw what they couldn’t, so I’m happy I did the right thing.”

“When did Tony tell you guys about this?”

“About a week ago?” Wanda nods in agreement with Nat.

“We thought you knew about the exam today but apparently you didn’t. It took you by surprise and you showed that but you don’t need to apologize for that feeling,” Wanda explains.

Head falling, your eyes scrunch closed. “I know, I just, I feel like I freaked them out.”

“To be fair, Tony freaked you out first. Sooo….” Natasha smiles a little when you accept her words. “So, do you wanna talk about it?”

A heavy sigh leaves you and you sit up straight between them, fingers fiddling in your lap.

“I know that it’s just part of my health, but having someone down there-” you shudder- “inside of me, when they aren’t there for consensual romantic reasons….I  just- it’s a hurdle I can’t get over. My body, my sexuality, it's always been something I was raised to keep hidden. I get that my parents were trying to protect me, but they drilled it into me so deep in such an unhealthy way. ‘No boys, no romance, don’t even talk to boys. No sex until you’re married. Your body is yours and is NEVER to be shared with another person unless you’re married.’ And then one day my childhood doctor physically unbuttoned and unzipped my pants while I was laying there on his exam table. I freaked out.”

“Naturally,” Nat chimes.

“Naturally. I didn't let him do the exam so we left and my mom yelled at me the whole way home for not letting him look. Like, how the fuck can you tell someone their entire life not to share their body and then one day just say 'open your legs and let him see.’ and expect them to be okay? It’s so- I don’t know- personal? But it’s not personal the way it is with me and Steve, and that’s the only way my brain can process anyone down there. So the only thing left for me to label it as is invasive. No matter how much time I have I can never fully prepare for it, and the thought of Tony overseeing something so….so wrong,” you squeak, “God, it makes me want to vomit.”

“Hey.” Natasha’s voice has you lifting your chin to meet her eyes. “It’s not wrong. There’s nothing wrong with gynecologists. Tony is, well, Tony- and it was kind of a dick move of him to thrust that on you. But you do need to see someone.”

Eyes narrowing in her direction, even she can see you starting to crack. “Why are you always fucking right?”

“Me? Right? Is that even possible?” she grins sarcastically.  

“So you’ll see someone?” Wanda asks.

A grimace paints your face, but you nod. “Yeah. I know I have to, and at least if I set it up myself then I can be in control of it.”

“Good. And we’ll be here as long as you need us,” Nat smiles, wrapping her arm around you as Wanda hugs you from the other side.

Sandwiched between them, you sniff and let out a laugh. “Thank you.”

An hour later the three of you are just getting up to go back downstairs, find some ice cream, and watch chick flicks when a tall figure looms into view. Your back straightens, but the look in his eyes allows you to deflate.

Flashing a smile to Nat, she and Wanda leave you alone with Steve.

“Hey.”

You step into his space, reaching out for his hand. “Hey,” you sigh, playing with his fingers.

“I- I’m sorry for making things worse. Tony asked me this morning if you were available today and I told him you were. I figured he or Bruce or F.R.I.D.A.Y. would fill you in on the appointment.”

Dropping his hand, you take a step back. “You knew?” Venom laces into your voice and he stands straight. “You knew and you just volunteered me for that?”

“I’m sorry, Y/n.”

“You and Tony ambushed me, Steve. What the fuck!”

Pushing past him, he groans and follows you. “I didn’t think it would be a big deal.”

“Yeah, you sure as hell didn’t think, Steve.”

“Hey.” His voice is firm and all too Captain Rogers, but you stop anyway, turning on your heels to glare up at him. Broad shoulders are set high and those blue eyes are piercing.

“It’s just another doctor’s appointment. Ever since Pepper started riding Tony about his health we’ve all been going through it. I don’t understand what the issue is, Y/n.”

“Of course you fucking don’t,” you puff, completely defeated and unable to believe that this is your Steve standing in front of you. “A complete stranger opening me up and prodding around inside of me-” you shove at his chest- “physically feeling the most intimate part of me while I’m laying there on a cold, hard table, forced to just sit there and let it happen for the sake of my health….” Tears finally spill from your eyes and your voice wavers as you continue. “That is not ‘just another doctor’s appointment’, Steve. It feels like molestation, and I can’t believe you would knowingly volunteer me for that.”

Broken voice, spirit, and heart, you walk away before he can say another word. You thank high heaven when he doesn’t chase after you, and you find Natasha and Wanda again, bunking down in Nat’s room for the night.

Things between you and Steve are awkward and tense for the first time in years. You’re both at odds and as much as it hurts to not be with him like normal, it hurts more knowing that he was part of what caused it.

Natasha is kind enough to share her room with you for a few days and when you start to overstay your welcome your room feels like a prison cell. The bed you share is too small, but Steve mercifully keeps his distance. It’s a rough couple of weeks before you find a doctor that you can talk to over the phone and after discussing your concerns and listening with an open heart she sets you up with an appointment.  

When you tell Steve it settles some of the tension between you. He just wants you healthy and your hang ups aren’t something he can understand or relate to -even when you open up to him and tell him everything. He’s usually so empathetic and understanding, but for some reason there’s just a disconnect that he can’t bridge. He wants to understand. He wants to believe you, but he just can’t help but feel like you’re being dramatic and overly sensitive to it, so he keeps his distance on the subject. As long as you’re taking care of yourself he won’t push it.  

Between missions popping up and your irregular periods reigning down endless sabotage you end up scheduling and cancelling four different appointments. The waiting game is inconvenient, stressful, and has more and more anxiety settling in your gut. It’s a shift in you that Steve easily notices and is a little surprised by, but your fifth attempt appointment date finally arrives without a hitch.

The two of you leave Stark Tower with dark shades and hats on, just in case. The subway is dark and all too bright at the same time, everything about the strangers caging you in as you reach your final destination making you almost nauseated with worry. The office is nice but still smells like old paper and hand sanitizer, and Steve sits with you as you fill out the forms that seem to never end.

“I didn’t think there would be so many questions,” he says, flipping the already filled out pages through his fingers. “You’ve been here for almost an hour just filling out forms… do they really need to know all of this if they’re looking at just one part of you.”

“Welcome to Womanhood, Captain.” The sarcasm doesn’t erase your distress, it barely hides it.

When you’re finally called back by the nurse Steve follows behind you. She puts up a feeble hand before her eyes scan his face. Pink crawls over her cheeks as she steps aside, giddy and half-focused as she takes your height and weight.

Steve stands there with your purse and shoes in his hand, a polite smile on his face as she composes herself and leads you both to the examination room.

Her words are simple. “The provider will be in soon.” And when the door shuts behind her, silence fills the already uncomfortable room.

Ten minutes pass before a different nurse comes in to take your vitals and ask a series of questions that weren’t on any of the forms you’d filled out. She seems to be completely oblivious to who you and Steve are and explains what they’ll be doing during this visit before setting out the instruments needed on a sterile cloth on the counter top.

“Go ahead and undress completely. This is the top, to be worn like a vest, and this is a sheet for the bottom,” she explains, holding the flimsy items up for display. “The provider will be in as soon as she can.” The door clicks behind her and you let out a huff.

“Why do they keep calling the doctor ‘the provider’?” Steve asks as you start undressing and handing him each item of clothing to fold into his lap.

“It’s supposed to be more removed and less personal than ‘doctor’ so you don’t feel like you’re being touched intimately, I guess.”

“I get the idea, but ‘provider’ sounds worse. Like you’re being probed.”

“Welcome to Womanhood, Captain,” you sneer with a fake salute that has Steve stiffening in his seat.

The sound of crinkly paper fills the room as you wrap the gown pieces across your body and try to find a way to secure them so you don’t have to actively hold them shut.

Steve smirks. “Nice outfit.”

You do a few model poses and spin around for him. “Oh, thanks. Wanna try it on?” The fake smile on your face turns to a real one at the way he chuckles.

Minutes that seem like hours pass at an agonizing pace, the build up and anticipation only making you more of a nervous wreck. The exam table beneath you is too firm and uncomfortable, so with a huff you jump off and Steve moves your clothes and purse to the counter so you can sit in the chair beside him.

The room is cold and quiet aside from your deep breaths and the hum of the fluorescent lights. Steve is at a loss for words, but he tries to comfort you. It doesn’t work. Every shift you make is loud, and soon the temperature of the room clings to your skin and worms past the paper dress you’re in. His arm wraps around you in an attempt to keep you warm, but it rips the fabric along your shoulders.

“I’m sorry,” he spits out the second he realizes what’s happened.

A long sigh turns into grumbling as you get up and start digging through the drawer the nurse had opened earlier. He wants to help, to comfort you, but he can’t. Steve isn’t used to feeling helpless, so he stands and paces back and forth when you take your seat on the exam table, again.

A knock on the door has you perking up, and the nurse from before enters the room. “So, the provider is going to need a urine sample,” she says, holding up the plastic cup and alcohol wipe. “You can get dressed and use the restroom two doors down, and when you come back in I’ll have you get undressed and into a new gown.”

Your eyes roll but Steve jumps in, polite as ever as the nurse turns to leave the room. “Thank you.”

He hands you your clothes and when you come back from the restroom, pee cup in tow, the room is even colder than it was before.

“Jesus Christ, it’s freezing in here,” you shiver.

“I actually asked a nurse about it while you were gone. She said she’d try to fix it. I’d try to keep you warm, but-”

“Yeah, apparently Cap beats Paper,” you smirk, the mood light for a moment while you undress and re-robe.

Time passes like molasses. You’re looking at the purple hue under your fingernails when you finally ask, “What time is it?”

His brows knit together as he looks at his watch. “Holy shit. It’s almost three.”

“Language, Captain,” you smirk, all too unamused with this entire ordeal.

“We’ve been here for almost three hours. Why does this take so long?” he asks, voice quiet but appalled as he examines the tools set out on the counter.

“Gotta set the mood,” you laugh humorlessly, flopping back onto the table, not even caring about modesty or comfort anymore. Before you can speak, Steve takes the words right out of your mouth.

“This is exhausting.”

A breathy laugh leaves your mouth and another half hour passes before a knock on the door has you sitting up with a groan.

“Hello, Y/n,” the doctor smiles and extends her hand. “I’m Dr. Nakalah.”

Shaking her hand, you nod. “Nice to meet you. And thank you for speaking with me over the phone. Like I said, this is-” the words sit heavy on your tongue and your eyes begin to glass.

“It’s alright. Women’s health is a very personal thing and I want you to feel as comfortable as possible.” Her kindness and honesty warms your heart and she gives you a moment while she turns to Steve.

He stands and offers his hand, voice deep and soothing. It’s for you, and it doesn’t go unnoticed. “Steve Rogers- Y/n’s boyfriend.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Steve. Thank you for coming with Y/n today. These things can feel invasive and be a bit overwhelming, so it’s always nice to see partners supporting each other.”

Pepper’s doctor might be one of the best but you’re happy you went with Dr. Nakalah. She’s human.

“So, Y/n, we’re going to do a Well Woman Exam today. That includes a breast exam, pap smear, and pelvic exam. In a minute I’ll have my medical assistants step in to help me with the exam and record the data.”

Her eyes flit to Steve and you clear your throat. “Um, can he stay in during the exam?”

“We don’t usually allow anyone else in the room, but with what we discussed, if you would feel more comfortable with him here, then yes, he can stay. If not, there’s a separate waiting room just around the corner.”

Steve hides his smile when you say, “I’ll have him stay.”

Two gentle knocks on the door prompt Dr. Nakalah to stand, the two nurses from before entering the room with polite smiles. The one with the laptop stands by the door as the other goes to the counter, ready to help the doctor with the exam.

“Ready?” Dr. Nakalah asks.

Your brows scrunch together and you half laugh out the words, “Hell no.” Steve goes rigid, but your smile breaks the tension and has all of the women in the room chuckling. A begrudging groan fills the room and you nod to the doctor, her voice calm as she begins.

“Like we talked about on the phone, I’ll talk you through everything we’re doing. Go ahead and lay back, then lift your arm over your head.” Nodding, you do as she says. The paper crinkles as you move it aside and her hands are gentle as she starts applying pressure to your breast. “We’re gonna feel around for any lumps or differences in breast tissue. You can do this at home routinely, and if you notice anything contact us and schedule and exam immediately.”

Your head turns and you catch Steve’s eyes. They’re filled with concern, but this isn’t the part you have any trouble with. ‘I’m good’ you mouth, and his shoulders lower a little.

She examines each breast and nods down at you. “Ok, everything felt normal. We’re going to go into the pap, now. Please put your feet into the stirrups and scoot to the edge of the table. Your butt should be almost off the edge of it.”

A hard lump forms in your throat but you do as she asks. Your thighs are still shut tight and the thought of having to expose yourself so fully has you sucking in a ragged breath. The doctor waits patiently, giving you the time to do it yourself. At the edge of the table, you mentally prepare yourself and let your knees fall open a bit, your neck straining a bit to look at the doctor.

“Is that far enough?” you ask.

“Just a little more,” she instructs, asking you to scoot closer and open your legs more. “Ok, good.”

When you look again, Steve has stood and is off to the side of the doctor, wanting to watch the process that plagues you so painfully. The line of his jaw is set tight and his eyes are laser focused when the assistant behind her clicks open the cap and lubes the speculum, handing it to your doctor and grabbing the swabs.

“Alright, I’m going to insert the speculum and open it up, then we’ll get a swab of your cervix. Try to relax and take deep breaths for me.”

As she moves the tool toward you, you decide you can’t watch. Your head thunks against the padded table as you heave in a breath, trying to control it as the speculum tip is pressed against your lips. There’s a little bit of resistance, and you open your legs further before it starts sliding in. Wrenching your eyes closed and curling your fists into the thin paper, the plastic stops, caught on your labia.

“Just gonna push this in a little more,” she says, and then there’s a bit of weight behind her hand where it is pushed in as far as it needs to be.  

“I’m gonna open this up and do a couple of swabs. You’ll feel some little pressure, here, Y/n,” she warns.” The speculum opens, and the pressure isn’t too bad. It’s definitely not comfortable, but you aren’t in pain, so you risk a glance.

The look on Steve’s face is one you’ve never seen before. It’s a mixture of shock, mortification, guilt, worry, and fear.

Dr. Nakalah takes the swabs from her assistant and meets your eyes, shooting you an encouraging and comforting nod. The discomfort is temporary and before you have time to overthink and panic, she’s speaking again. “Done with that, just going to remove this.”

It’s an odd feeling that sends a shiver crawling up your spine and fluttering in your gut as the plastic slips out of you. As exposed as you still are, it’s much better than the vulnerability of being splayed open in front of everyone.

“Alright. Doing great. For the pelvic exam I’m going to place a finger inside and press down on your lower abdomen and pelvic area to feel for any irregularities and check your ovaries. Keep breathing, nice and even, okay?”

“Okay,” you nod, watching as she stands from her stool. The assistant places lube on Dr. Nakalah’s gloved finger and then she’s standing between your legs. One hand placed atop your pelvis, her finger pushes into you, the hand on your pelvis applying pressure as she feels for any abnormalities. “Alright, and we’re done,” she says, easing her finger out of you and stepping back.  

Steve comes to your side, left a little dazed by what he saw, but he helps you to sit up as your feet drop slowly out of the stirrups. His hands are warm on your back and you pull the sheet back over your lap while the nurses and doctor collect the samples and remove their gloves. “Okay, Y/n, you can get dressed and one of the nurses will be back in a few minutes to schedule your follow up. We’ll give you a call when your results are back, and if you have any questions or would like to talk about the visit today please feel free to call any time.”

“Thank you so much.”

She shakes your hand again, eyes kind and warm, then shakes Steve’s hand and leaves. When it’s just the two of you in the room again, Steve’s deep voice is in your hairline. “You did great, sweetheart.”

Eyes shut, you’re able to let out the shudder that had sunk into your bones, a noise coming from your mouth as you let it go and shake your hands and head to get it out. Your posture deflates while you simply sit for a second and calm your racing heart. When you shift to stand, the excess lube slips through your labia and you wince, turning to your boyfriend.

“Can you, um, can you turn around for a minute?” He seems a little puzzled, but complies with your request.

Hopping off the table, you use the sheet you were wrapped in to wipe between your legs, then crinkle it up into a ball. There’s still lube down there, so you find the tissues on the counter and use a few to wipe away and scoop out what’s left from the exam. Steve is still facing the wall and when you pull the tissue away there’s a mixture of lube and blood. A flicker of fear ignites in your chest and you wipe a couple more times until the blood and lube are gone.

Tossing the paper and pulling on your clothes warmth seeps back into your skin and you let out a small, happy sigh when you’re fully dressed again.

“Ok, you can turn around, now.” He does, and you smile at him from the sink. “Thank you.”

You can’t wash your hands fast enough and you don’t even bother to dry them before crashing yourself into his chest. A hum vibrates against your cheek and his thick arms wrap around you, holding you tight.

“I’m so sorry. I don’t know why I didn’t believe you. I didn’t think this was a big deal and I hate that I hurt you. I can’t even begin to imagine what it was like to be on your side of that, but I have a better understanding of what this means to you, now, and I’m so proud of you for staying as calm as you did while you went through that.”

Tears cloud your eyes and you simply bury yourself deeper in his chest, happy that you have your Steve back. He exudes tranquility and you bask in it, evening your breathing to match his beating heart, not pulling away from his hold until the nurse is knocking on the door again. She sets a follow up for you and asks if you have any questions.

“Um, yeah. Uhh, when I cleaned up the lube there was-” you clear your throat- “I was bleeding…”

Steve’s eyes shoot open wide as the nurse nods. “Some bleeding or spotting and cramping can be normal after a pap. If it’s excessive then you’ll need to come back in or go to an emergency room, but it’s usually just the day of or the day after,” she explains, and your unease is sated.

You nod and smile. “Oh, ok, perfect. It freaked me out and I just wanted to check.”

“Yeah, it should be fine. Just monitor it. And here’s your next appointment for follow up.” She hands you an appointment card. “Dr. Nakalah’s number is on there, as well, so you can call the office or call her directly if you need to cancel, reschedule, or have any more questions. Thank you, and have a great rest of your day.”

“Thank you,” you and Steve chime in unison, smiles on all of your faces as she leaves.

When the two of you exit the building, the sky outside is gold and orange and pink with blue bits starting to fade in. The air is a little cooler on your skin and your hand finds Steve’s out of instinct. He sighs- full chested, tongue swiping quickly over his lips with squinted eyes.

When he looks down at you a residual shiver runs up your spine and he pulls you into his side. Breathing him in, his scent and warmth soothe you. With your feet moving together, slowly, but in sync, he hums, voice a little more timid than before.

“I’m sorry, again, Y/n. For all of it.”

“Thank you for coming with me; for seeing for yourself.”

Steve stops you, those oceanic eyes making you melt into him. He drops his mouth, lets the space between you linger. Then, he closes in with a weight behind his actions, fingertips slipping up into your hairline as he holds you there to make sure he’s getting it all right.

It’s the first time you’ve kissed in almost a month. It’s filled with apologies and love, one kiss to make up for all the time he didn’t spend kissing you. The sounds of the street fade away and in the middle of a busy world it’s just the you and your Steve- mouth to mouth, heart to heart.

The rest of the way home you keep yourself pressed up against his side, shuddering at random until you’re in the safety of your room again. Undressing each other slowly and kissing with no destination in mind, Steve leaves your needy lips to run a bath and when the water’s warm and the enormous tub is full, he pulls you into it, your chest pressed against his as he hums an old song into your hair.

“Ya know, if anything can make me forgive Tony, it’s this bathtub.”

Laughter echoes off the bathroom walls and Steve nods down at you, asking, “Will you talk to him?”

There’s an attempt to mask your pain, but he sees past it. You shrug. “Probably not.”

Steve lets out a sigh and you know he’s a little disappointed with that answer.

Knocking on the bathroom door has you both at attention and Steve going to get up from the tub when Tony’s voice filters in from the other side. “Y/n, you in there?”

Steve’s voice is teeming with intrigue and his eyebrow quirks up when he sinks back down into the hot water. “Speak of the devil.”

“Yeah, Tony. What’s up?” Your eyes roll and Steve shoots you a look that says, ‘give him a chance’, so you pull a face but listen when Tony starts talking.

“Ah, yeah, so I just wanted to say sorry for the whole, well, you know. And, uhh, I’m sorry if you felt like- ow.” Tony stops and the two of you look at each other, puzzled for a moment before the muttering on the other side of the door and an audible smack reach your ears.

“Start over right now, Tony,” Pepper demands in a harsh whisper.

Ear-to-ear smiles bloom on your faces when you and Steve lock eyes and Tony starts over again. “I’m sorry for not realizing that surprising you with a gynecologist isn’t a good surprise.”

“Jesus Christ,” Pepper hisses, making you and Steve suppress your laughter.

“And it was wrong of me to assume that would be okay?” He stops for a beat and you can practically see him on the other side of the door looking at Pepper to see if his words are the ones she wants him to say. “Yes. I shouldn’t have done that to you, aaaand-”

“It won’t happen again.” Pepper whispers.

“It won’t happen again.” Tony declares.

Silence fills the room and when nothing else comes from his end, Steve wraps his hand around yours. “Well?”

“With an apology like that?”

Steve shrugs and you half laugh, half sigh before calling out, “Thank you, Pepper.”

“Excuse me?!”

“You’re welcome, Y/n,” she replies.

“Um, no, sorry, Pepper isn’t here right now.”

“We left a few gifts on the bed for you. And sorry again, sweetheart,” she says through the door. Tony keeps rambling but the sound soon fades as she drags him out of your room.

Steve chuckles deep and pulls you back to his chest, strong arms wrapping around you so he can whisper in your ear. “Better?”

Steve won’t doubt you again, and even with Pepper coaching Tony through his apology, you can tell that he knows he was wrong. The two of them can’t erase what they did, but it sure as hell won’t happen again.

“Y/n?” Steve asks, blue eyes looking at you like you’re all that’s good in the world.

Warmth fills your heart and you nod your head. “Better.”

When the water is only mildly warm and your fingers are pruney Steve pulls you out of the tub and wraps you in a plush, warm towel. True to Pepper’s words, a spread of gifts is laid out at the foot of your bed.

“Champagne, chocolate, flowers?” Steve turns to you with a sly grin. “Looks like Tony’s done his fair share of apologizing to women.”

You laugh and Steve plucks a note from the flowers, handing it to you while he clears the bed.

‘I messed up and you deserved better than what I gave you. Sorry, Kid.’

It’s somehow exactly what you need to hear from him.

A pop startles you but you smile when Steve offers you a glass of champagne and puts on some music. Champagne kisses are shared while the two of you sway to the music in just your towels and when your glasses are empty you get comfy for bed.

When Steve’s blue crystals turn into bedroom eyes you crawl up the bed and into his open arms. Fitting yourself perfectly in his hold, he wraps you up in a powerful kiss that makes you forgive and forget all the hell he’d put you through.

He has just one thing on his mind, and he’s only just getting started making it up to you.

Tags for my marvel list and for everyone who said they’d be interested in reading this. Thanks guys :)

@sebbytrash @becs-bunker @curlyblondexoxo @ellen-reincarnated1967 @plaidstiel-wormstache @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @the-nonsenseblog @ilovefanfic86 @missnighttigress @feelmyroarrrr @abeautifulandterriblemind @thelilbutifulthings @gryffindorable713 @shannon124 @disney-fire-fox 

[dragon-temeraire]

Werewolf Chaser

Summary: He’d never thought Stiles would be a werewolf chaser—someone who only saw werewolves as a way to fulfill their kinks—although in hindsight he probably should have, considering the number of inappropriate questions Stiles had asked him over the years.

Notes: A ‘werewolves are known’ AU that I’ve been thinking about for a while. I figure if there are werewolves in society, then you’ll also have people who only view them as some sort of novelty, and would never have a serious relationship with one. (On AO3)

Once he’d gotten out of high school, Stiles had taken full advantage of his fresh start, and had begun dating and—as Derek had been informed by his own traitorous nose—having sex. None of this really surprised Derek—Stiles was quite attractive, once he stopped getting in his own way and learned how to talk to people without oversharing.

And he’d been bemoaning his lack of action for years, so Derek had expected him to jump at the chance to get laid. The thing Derek hadn’t expected, though, was for all the hookups and relationships to be exclusively with werewolves.

He’d never thought Stiles would be a werewolf chaser—someone who only saw werewolves as a way to fulfill their kinks—although in hindsight he probably should have, considering the number of inappropriate questions Stiles had asked him over the years.

But it was undeniable; all the signs were there, and Stiles constantly reeked of other werewolves. Derek was fairly certain Stiles had not so much as kissed a regular human.

And as much as Derek is attracted to Stiles, as much as he’d hoped Stiles would be interested in him in return, he isn’t going to lower himself to being someone’s fetish. It’s taken a long time to realize he’s worth more than that, but now that he has, he’s not giving that up.

Not for anyone.

*

Things are quiet for a while, as Stiles gets busy with his classes and can’t come to visit very often, and all the other members of the pack are either at their own colleges, or doing their own projects. Which leaves Derek with a lot of time to read, cook, and fix up the loft.

But then he’s out, walking to the grocery store because he forgot a few things, when he turns the corner and catches sight of Stiles. It’s a bit of a shock, because he hadn’t heard anything about Stiles coming into town—the Sheriff is kind enough to keep him posted—so Derek is entirely unprepared. Especially because Stiles is with another werewolf, of course, and they’re smiling and holding hands as they walk together.

He has to work to keep his expression neutral as they pass by, and limits himself to a polite nod so he won’t say anything he regrets. Though he tries to avoid it, he ends up catching a whiff of the sex they’d recently had, and it makes his stomach turn sour.

Hopefully by the time he’s gotten his groceries, the scent of Stiles and his werewolf boyfriend will be long gone.

*

A few weeks later, Stiles shows up to a ‘pack meeting’ (it’s just movie night, nothing important is being discussed) with a different werewolf.

He doesn’t smell of sex this time, but when Derek sees the shallow row of scratches down Stiles’ neck, he immediately gets up and leaves. It’s clear that Stiles is really into werewolf sex, likes them to be partially shifted, and Derek didn’t want to know.

It’s just further proof that Stiles is only a chaser.

Derek scowls the entire drive back, hands clenching on the wheel. And to his annoyance, once he’s back in the quiet solitude of the loft, he still can’t concentrate on a single thing.

*

He doesn’t go to the next movie night.

That keeps him from wanting to put his claws into something, but it doesn’t stop Stiles from showing up to his loft the next day.

“Hey, Derek,” he says casually. “You have something really important to do last night?”

“No,” Derek says shortly, setting his book down. Then he just crosses his arms and waits.

“Oh, I figured you did, considering you missed movie night,” Stiles says, a false lightness to his tone. “And you never miss movie night.”

It’s true. Derek has always considered it an excellent pack bonding opportunity, and makes a point to be there every time.

“Didn’t feel like watching The Notebook again,” he says coolly, because he doesn’t owe Stiles an explanation.

“It wasn’t Lydia’s turn to pick,” Stiles says. “But you knew that.” There’s a long pause. “Were you mad that I brought someone who wasn’t a pack member?”

“No,” Derek bites out, glad Stiles can’t hear the lie in his heartbeat. He’s so conflicted about wanting Stiles but simultaneously not wanting Stiles, and it’s driving him up the wall. “It’s always open to friends and family.”

Stiles’ eyes narrow calculatingly. “Then why didn’t you go?”

I didn’t want to see you all over some random werewolf, Derek wants to say, but keeps inside. Instead, he goes with the most honest answer he can: “I didn’t feel like it.”

“Okay,” Stiles says, nodding slowly, clearly thinking something over. “Sure. But you should come next time, okay? Jackson’s probably going to pick Remember the Titans, and I know you love that movie.”

“Yeah,” Derek says faintly, not sure how Stiles knows.

By the time he thinks to ask, Stiles is gone.

*

At the next movie night, Stiles is alone. He sits quietly next to Derek on the couch and eats popcorn, casual and calm, like nothing is different at all. And when Derek gives a tentative sniff, Stiles just smells like himself, and like the pack. No one else.

There’s something in his body language, though, something a little defensive, a little tired, that makes Derek wonder if he had a bad breakup. If maybe Stiles is caught in a cycle of negative thoughts, the way Derek gets sometimes.

And Stiles is usually the one to snap him out of those, so.

He sticks his hand into Stiles’ popcorn bowl, grabbing as much as he can and stuffing it into his mouth, just to hear Stiles squawk in complaint. He gets so passionate about the rights to his popcorn—acting outraged but really trying to hide his smile—that Isaac makes a loud groan and flings a pillow at him.

His aim is perfect, and Stiles’ stunned expression after it bounces off his face has Derek laughing harder than he has in a long time. When he manages to catch his breath, still grinning, he glances over and sees Stiles smiling back at him. He feels certain that Stiles has forgotten all about any exes.

Instead, he just looks content.

*

When Derek walks into the diner, he spots Stiles talking to a pretty werewolf Derek’s seen around town occasionally, even though her pack is based further north. He’s about to make his exit, not really wanting to see Stiles on a date, when the werewolf gives Stiles a small smile and leaves without looking back.

It’s then that Stiles catches sight of Derek, and he quickly waves him over.

“You get turned down?” Derek asks curiously. As far as he can tell, Stiles hasn’t even placed an order yet. Maybe it wasn’t a date after all.

“Huh?” Stiles says distractedly, busy playing with a straw wrapper. “No, the other way around, actually. I turned her down.”

“Really?” Derek can’t help saying, then feels like an asshole for thinking she’s a werewolf, isn’t that what you want?

“We’ve had fun together before,” Stiles says easily, shrugging. “But I’m not really looking for casual right now, and I think there’s a better option out there for me, anyway.” He gives Derek an almost shy smile, and Derek doesn’t know what to make of that.

He wonders, with a sort of dawning dread, if Stiles wants Derek to introduce him to some werewolf he has his eye on. Derek is not up for that. But he’s not even sure if he knows any single werewolves, so the point is moot anyway.

Stiles doesn’t seem bothered by Derek’s lack of response, and when the waitress comes he even orders him a milkshake.

Then they sit and talk about everything except Stiles’ love life while Stiles eats his burger, and Derek slowly sips on the milkshake. It’s delicious, exactly what he’d have ordered if he’d ever thought to get himself one.

He tries not to consider how thoughtful that is.

*

“Look, I know we kind of did this yesterday,” Stiles says nervously, standing beside Derek’s kitchen table. Derek slides his map of Beacon Hills aside, giving Stiles his full attention. “But I’d like to take you out on a date.”

Derek stiffens, hands clenching tight, because this is a situation he’d hoped would never happen. “No,” he says sharply, hating that he has to turn Stiles down. And…Stiles thought their moment at the diner yesterday was a date?

“I—” Stiles visibly deflates. “No?”

“I’m not going to be part of the string of werewolves that you,” he waves his hand irritably, “mess around with. I won’t date a werewolf chaser.” He’d done it once, flattered by the attention, and it had ended so, so badly for him.

Stiles’ head snaps up at that. “I’m not—” he goes to deny, then pauses. “Well, I guess technically I am a werewolf chaser, but I’ve only been chasing after one werewolf.”

Derek raises an eyebrow, trying to push down the hope burning in his chest. “Doesn’t look like that to me.”

Stiles winces. “I—Derek, I really liked you, but I felt like I had no chance.” He holds up a hand when Derek tries to say something. “I was a lame, awkward virgin who didn’t know the first thing about dating anyone, let alone a werewolf. So, I figured it’d be best to get some experience, and then I’d be ready if I ever got a chance with you. Which means that yes, I was with a lot of different werewolves. And I thought I’d just keep going on that way, because I was having fun, but all of a sudden it seemed like you were jealous of my dates. And I thought maybe I did have a chance with you. So I stopped, and decided I’d try asking you out instead.” He shakes his head, looking defeated. “You may not like hearing any of that, Derek, but I want you to know that all along they were just stand-ins for you.”

Stiles looks like he’s about to leave, so Derek blurts out, “I’m sorry. I thought it was just a fetish for you, that you were only into the claws and the fangs and the power.”

“To be fair, I do like all of those things,” Stiles says, smiling. “But I think I’d like them a lot better with you.”

“Only one way to find out,” Derek says. “So, how about that date?”

*

(They go on their date. It’s lovely. Then they go on a lot more. Derek is the last werewolf Stiles ever dates.)