Love Child | Steve Rogers × f!Reader.
Words: 7.1K
Themes: ANGST, betrayal of trust, break-up.
Twigger Warning: Panic attack.
Summary: You find out that Steve has a child, and the problem was, you weren't the mother.
A/N: Read it if you want to hurt. I woke up and chose emotional damage LMAO. Today I am brave enough to post a Steve angst with no happy ending, I have been stalling but eh.
A/N: Also I need to organize who wants to get tagged for ALL of my Steve Rogers fic. I am in a mess here, so if I am not tagging you, that's the reason.
Tags: @mrsevans90 @haruvalentine4321
You stared at the letter in your hands, the words blurring as tears welled in your eyes. Your chest tightened, the walls of the room closing in on you. The world tilted and spun, a sharp pain cutting through your heart as if it had been pierced by a dagger you never saw coming.
The paper crumpled in your hand as the weight of the revelation crushed you. Steve has a child. And the mother was Sharon.
A ragged breath escaped you, your body trembling as you stumbled back, gripping the edge of the counter to keep yourself upright. How long? The question echoed in your mind, over and over again.
How long had Steve kept this from you? How long had he looked you in the eyes, told you he loved you, and hidden this secret?
The door creaked open, and you turned, your heart already in tatters, your hands gripping the countertop so hard your knuckles turned white. Steve walked in, his expression soft, unaware of the storm raging within you.
He froze when he saw your face—your red-rimmed eyes, your trembling body. His gaze dropped to the letter in your hand, and in an instant, you saw the recognition hit him hard.
“Y/N,” he began, his voice careful, cautious, like he knew he was stepping into dangerous territory.
“You—” Your voice cracked, but you forced the words out, the pain burning through your chest. “You have a child?”
Steve’s face paled. He opened his mouth, but you didn’t give him a chance to speak.
“No. You don’t get to talk right now,” you spat, your voice shaking with barely controlled fury. “How long were you planning to hide this from me, Steve?”
“Y/N, it’s not what you think—”
You laughed, the sound bitter. “Not what I think? Steve, you have a child with Sharon. A child. And you didn’t think I had the right to know?”
His jaw tightened, guilt flickering across his face, but it wasn’t enough. Nothing he could say now would ever be enough.
“How long?” you demanded, your voice rising. “How long have you known?”
He hesitated, and that hesitation was like another stab to your already bleeding heart.
“Three years,” he whispered, barely able to meet your eyes.
You froze. “Three years?”
It felt like the ground had been ripped out from under you, the air knocked from your lungs. You took a step back, trying to keep yourself from falling apart completely.
“Three years, Steve?” you repeated, your voice soft but trembling with every word. “You’ve known for three years, and you didn’t tell me? You didn’t think that I should know that the man I love has a child?”
“I didn’t know how to tell you,” Steve started, stepping forward, but you recoiled from him, shaking your head.
“That’s your excuse?” you said, incredulous. “You didn’t know how to tell me? So you just decided not to? Did you think I wouldn’t find out? Did you think this would never come up?”
Steve’s face twisted in pain, but you couldn’t stop. The dam had broken, and all the hurt, the betrayal, poured out of you like a flood.
“Do you have any idea what that feels like? To find out like this?” You threw the crumpled letter at his chest, your voice breaking as the tears spilled over. “I’ve stood by you through everything. I’ve defended you when everyone else doubted you. I’ve fought for us. I trusted you with everything—and you kept this from me?”
“Y/N, please,” Steve pleaded, his voice cracking. “I didn’t want to hurt you.”
“You didn’t want to hurt me?” you repeated, your voice trembling with disbelief. “Well, guess what, Steve? You did. You hurt me more than anyone ever has. You kept this secret from me, and now I don’t even know who you are.”
He took another step closer, desperation etched into every line of his face. “I didn’t love Sharon. It wasn’t—”
“I don’t care about Sharon!” you shouted with a bite, cutting him off. “I care about the fact that you didn’t trust me enough to tell me the truth. I care about the fact that you’ve looked me in the eyes, slept beside me, told me you loved me—all while hiding this.”
Steve’s lips parted, but no words came out. And in that silence, something inside you shattered.
“I loved you, Steve,” you whispered, the tears flowing freely now, no longer caring to hold them back. “I loved you more than anything. But now? Now all I feel is… hollow.”
He flinched as if the word struck him deeply, but it didn’t stop you.
“You had a choice, Steve. You could have trusted me. You could have told me the truth. But instead, you chose to keep me in the dark. You chose to lie. And now?” Your voice broke again, the weight of your words settling in the air between you. “Now, I don’t even know if I can ever forgive you for that—”
“Oh my God! Will you let me explain?!” Steve exploded, his voice shaking the walls. He stepped forward, fists clenched, his entire body vibrating with anger. “You keep going on and on, like I wanted this to happen! You think I wanted to hide this from you? You don’t even know what it was like!”
Your head snapped back, and your voice matched his fury. “I don’t know what it was like? I’m the one who’s been fooled! For three years! You kept this massive secret from me, and now I’m the one who doesn’t understand?”
“Yeah, you don’t!” he shot back, stepping closer, the space between you charged, toxic. “You have no idea what it was like carrying that around. Every day, wondering if telling you would blow everything apart!”
“Well, guess what?” you yelled, voice rising as your hands trembled at your sides. “You didn’t have to wonder, Steve. Because it’s blown apart now!”
Steve’s jaw clenched so tightly it looked like it might shatter. “I didn’t lie, Y/N. I didn’t know about the kid until after we were already together!”
“You lied by not telling me when you found out!” you screamed, your chest heaving with the effort. “You made me believe there were no secrets between us, and all this time, you’ve been hiding something so huge! You have a child! A whole other life with Sharon!”
“It’s not a life!” Steve roared, his voice breaking under the weight of his anger. “It was a mistake! Something I never wanted in the first place!”
“Then why didn’t you tell me? Why did you hide it? Were you too much of a coward to be honest with me?” Your words hit like daggers, your chest burning from the emotional wreckage piling up between you.
Steve’s face twisted into something hard, something darker. “Coward? Coward? You want to talk about being a coward? How about the time you lied to me?”
Your breath hitched, your eyes narrowing in confusion and shock. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“Don’t act like you don’t know,” he spat, his voice venomous. “You remember that night you said you were out with Nat, but really, you were meeting with Bucky behind my back. You lied to me about that. Don’t act like you’re innocent here.”
“That’s not the same thing!” you snapped, shaking your head as you stepped closer, your heart hammering in your chest. “I didn’t lie about having a whole ass child, Steve! There’s a pretty huge difference!”
Steve let out a bitter, angry laugh, running his hands through his hair. “No, it’s not the same, but you still lied. You lied because you didn’t want to deal with my reaction, just like I didn’t want to deal with this.”
“I lied about a mission! A mission. Not something that would change everything between us. Don’t you dare try to make this about me when you’re the one who’s been hiding a child for years!”
“You’re so self-righteous,” Steve snapped, his voice full of heat, his chest rising and falling with the force of his anger. “You act like you’re perfect, like you’ve never made a mistake. You’re so focused on my screw-ups, but you don’t even see your own.”
Your mouth dropped open, the words barely able to form as you stared at him in disbelief. “You’re trying to make this my fault? You’re actually blaming me for this?”
Steve’s eyes blazed as he stepped forward, his voice low, seething. “I’m saying you act like you’re the only one who’s hurt here. Like you’re the only one who has a right to be angry. But guess what, Y/N? I’m angry too. I’m angry that I had to carry this weight alone because I didn’t know how to tell you without you tearing me apart for it.”
“You chose that!” you shot back, your voice shaking with fury. “You chose to keep this from me, Steve. Don’t try to make it seem like I forced your hand. You had every chance to be honest, and you didn’t. That’s on you.”
“Of course, it’s on me!” Steve shouted, throwing his hands in the air. “But you act like I’m the only one who’s ever messed up, like your lies don’t count. Like your secrets are somehow better.”
You felt your chest tighten, the tears of rage building again behind your eyes. “You have no right to stand there and compare this to anything I’ve done. You hid a child from me, Steve. Do you even get how massive that is? You took away my right to know.”
“I know!” he yelled, his voice breaking. “I know I fucked up. I know I should’ve told you, but I was scared, okay? I was scared of what it would do to us.”
“And now look at us,” you whispered, the words filled with raw pain. “It’s worse. It’s so much worse because you waited. Because you lied.”
Steve took a deep breath, his voice softening but still tinged with anger. “I didn’t want to hurt you. That’s why I didn’t tell you.”
“But you did,” you said, your voice breaking. “You hurt me more than you can imagine. And the worst part is, I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to look at you the same way again.”
Steve’s shoulders sagged, the fight draining out of him as the weight of your words settled between you. “Y/N…”
You shook your head, stepping back, the tears spilling over now, hot and fast. “You broke us, Steve.”
“I know,” he whispered, his voice small, broken. But it wasn’t enough. Nothing would ever be enough to fix this.
“I hope it was worth it,” you spat, turning your back on Steve as you stormed toward the stairs. The anger radiated off you, the floor trembling beneath your footsteps as you ascended.
“Y/N—where are you going? What are you doing?” Steve called after you, his voice still thick with frustration and desperation. You didn’t turn back, didn’t even acknowledge him as your heart pounded violently in your chest.
Your feet carried you faster, the distance between you and Steve becoming a chasm you knew neither of you could cross again. You reached the bedroom, flinging the closet doors open with a sharp tug. Your hands shook as you grabbed your suitcase, throwing it onto the bed with a loud thud.
“Y/N, stop!” Steve’s voice was closer now, frantic as he followed you up the stairs, his boots heavy on the hardwood floor. “What are you doing?”
But you kept your back to him, ignoring the pleading edge to his voice as you tore clothes from hangers, shoving them into the suitcase with reckless abandon.
“Y/N—talk to me!” Steve’s voice was sharp, almost panicked now, but you couldn’t stop. You wouldn’t stop.
The closet was a blur of motion as you threw more and more into your bag, your breath coming out in ragged gasps as you fought to keep from sobbing. You had to focus, had to keep moving, because if you stopped—if you stopped for even one second—you knew you’d break completely.
“Where are you going?” Steve demanded, his voice breaking as he grabbed your arm, forcing you to face him. “What are you doing, Y/N?”
Your eyes snapped up to his, blazing with fury. You ripped your arm out of his grasp, your voice dripping with venom. “I’m leaving, Steve. What does it look like I’m doing?”
He blinked, stunned by your words, his hands falling to his sides. “You’re not… You can’t just—”
“I can,” you cut him off, zipping up the half-packed suitcase with a sharp tug. “And I will.”
He stared at you, his chest rising and falling with heavy, uneven breaths. “You’re just going to walk away? After everything?”
You whirled on him, your eyes flashing. “What else do you want me to do, Steve? Stay? Pretend like everything’s fine? You betrayed me.”
You shook your head, grabbing another handful of clothes and shoving them into the suitcase. “I can’t do that.”
Steve ran a hand through his hair, his voice filled with a desperate edge. “I made a mistake, Y/N! I know I did. But you can’t just throw everything away like this.”
“You threw it away,” you snapped, your voice rising again, your hands trembling as you yanked open the dresser. “The second you decided to lie to me, you threw us away.”
His hand slammed against the dresser, stopping your frantic movements, his voice breaking with emotion.
“I didn’t want to lose you!”
You froze, your fingers gripping the edge of the drawer, your heart pounding in your ears.
“Well, congratulations, Steve,” you whispered, your voice raw and ragged. “You lost me anyway.”
You pulled away from him, resuming your packing with a fury, trying to shove everything into the suitcase as quickly as possible. You couldn’t stay here any longer—not with him, not after everything.
“Y/N, please,” Steve’s voice cracked, and for the first time, you heard the fear beneath the anger. “Don’t do this. We can fix this.”
You snapped the suitcase shut, turning to face him one last time, your throat burning as you fought so hard not to break down in front of him. “We can’t fix this, Steve. You broke it. You broke us. And I don’t think I can ever forgive you for that.”
His face crumpled, the pain in his eyes matching the hollow ache in your chest. “I love you, Y/N.”
You swallowed hard, the words catching in your throat as you turned away from him, grabbing your suitcase and pulling it off the bed.
“I wish that was enough,” you whispered, more to yourself than to him.
Steve took a step forward, his hand reaching out as if he could pull you back, but you were already gone. Already walking toward the door, the weight of everything crashing down around you.
You didn’t look back as you left, didn’t let yourself see the devastation on his face. Because if you did—if you saw the hurt in his eyes—you might have broken completely.
× × × ×
The rain hammered against the windshield, streaking in endless lines, distorting the world outside as you drove aimlessly through the storm. The wipers struggled to keep up, but it didn’t matter—you could barely see through the blur of tears clouding your vision.
Your hands gripped the steering wheel, knuckles white as your chest heaved with shallow, uneven breaths. The weight of everything was too much—the anger, the betrayal, the unbearable ache in your heart. It felt like your whole world had collapsed in a single moment, and now you were drowning in the wreckage.
You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t think.
With a sharp jerk, you pulled the car to the side of the road, the tires skidding slightly on the wet pavement. The sound of the blinker clicked furiously in the sudden stillness, an incessant reminder of the chaos swirling inside you.
And then, the dam broke.
A sob ripped from your throat, deep and raw, shaking your entire body as you collapsed forward, your head falling against the steering wheel. The tears came in a rush, uncontrollable and violent, each breath harder to take than the last. You gasped, but no air came—just the suffocating weight of your own grief, crashing over you like a tidal wave.
Your chest ached, a sharp, stabbing pain that radiated through your ribs, like something inside you was breaking apart, splintering under the pressure. You tried to breathe, but the sobs came too fast, too strong, wrenching your body with each convulsion.
It felt like your heart was being crushed, squeezed until it couldn’t beat anymore. You pressed a hand to your chest, desperate, coughing between sobs as you tried to force the air back into your lungs. But it wouldn’t come.
You were drowning.
The sound of the blinker ticked steadily in the background, but all you could hear was your own ragged breathing, the gasps for air that never came, the broken cries that tore from your throat.
You couldn’t stop.
The tears burned as they fell, hot and endless, but you didn’t wipe them away. You couldn’t. Your body was shaking, your chest so tight it felt like you were being crushed from the inside. Every sob sent fresh waves of pain through you—pain so deep it felt like your heart was being ripped apart.
You heaved, gasping, your hand clutching your chest as though you could somehow hold yourself together. But you couldn’t. Everything inside you was breaking, crumbling under the weight of the agony that consumed you.
You coughed, your throat raw from the sobs, the pressure in your chest building until it felt like you might burst. You wanted it to stop—needed it to stop—but the pain only deepened, settling into every corner of your body, pressing down harder with every breath you couldn’t take.
You screamed then, the sound tearing through the car, harsh and guttural, a cry that came from somewhere deep inside—the part of you that had been shattered beyond repair. It filled the space, mingling with the sound of the rain and the steady tick of the blinker, a scream of pure, unfiltered anguish.
And still, the tears came.
It felt like hours before the sobs began to slow, before the heaving breaths turned into shallow gasps, your body trembling from the exertion. But the pain remained—a deep, aching wound that throbbed in your chest, a constant reminder that everything you had was gone.
Your hands shook as you wiped your eyes, though the tears wouldn’t stop completely. You leaned back in the seat, staring blankly out at the rain-soaked world, feeling empty. Hollow.
And as the blinker continued to tick, the world outside was nothing but a blur of rain and darkness, you realized you didn’t know how to pick up the pieces of what was left of you.
Your fingers trembled as you reached for your phone, the weight of it heavy in your palm, the screen blurred by the tears still streaming down your face. Every part of you ached—your chest tight, your breath shaky, the sobs still threatening to break free. You could barely see through the haze of grief, but you needed someone. Needed someone to pull you out of this spiral before it swallowed you whole.
With a shaking hand, you scrolled through your contacts, and your thumb hovered over her name—Nat. The one person who had always been there, who wouldn’t ask too many questions, who would understand with just a single word.
The ringing felt like it stretched on forever, each second punctuated by the relentless ticking of the blinker, the steady beat of rain against the windshield.
Finally, the call connected.
"Y/N?" Nat’s voice was soft.
You tried to speak, but the words wouldn’t come. A choked sob escaped you instead, and for a moment, you couldn’t breathe. You clutched the phone tighter, your other hand pressing hard against your chest, as though you could hold yourself together long enough to speak.
"Y/N?" Nat’s voice sharpened, filled with worry now. "What’s going on? Are you okay?"
"I—I can’t—" The words came out broken, shattered between sobs. You coughed, gasping for breath, trying to force out the words that felt stuck in your throat. "I can’t… breathe."
"Hey, hey, breathe." Nat’s voice softened, grounding you, pulling you out of the suffocating darkness. "Take a breath. What’s going on?"
You sucked in a breath, but it was jagged, painful. The tears wouldn’t stop, your chest still heaving, but Nat’s voice kept you tethered, kept you from spiraling further.
“It’s Steve,” you whispered, voice barely audible through the sobs. “He—he lied to me, Nat. About… everything.”
Silence on the other end. Nat didn’t press. She didn’t need to. She knew there was more, something deeper, something that had torn you apart from the inside out. And she waited.
“I left,” you managed to choke out, your fingers trembling as you gripped the steering wheel, knuckles white. “I just… I couldn’t… I couldn’t stay.”
“Where are you?” Nat asked, her voice calm, steady—a lifeline in the chaos.
“I don’t know,” you admitted, blinking through the blur of tears as you glanced out at the rain-soaked road. You didn’t even know where you had driven to—just away. Away from him, away from the lies, away from everything that had broken you.
“Okay,” Nat’s voice was soothing now, a steady rhythm against the sound of your sobs. “It’s going to be okay, Y/N. Just breathe, alright? I’m coming to get you. Just tell me where you are.”
You coughed, the pain in your chest still sharp, still suffocating. You pressed your forehead against the steering wheel, forcing yourself to take a shallow, shaky breath. “I’m… by the old bridge, off the main road.”
“I know where that is,” Nat said, her voice quick, decisive. “Stay there. Don’t move, okay? I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
You nodded, though she couldn’t see you, your hands still trembling as you pulled them away from the steering wheel. The exhaustion hit you then, hard and heavy, the adrenaline leaving you drained, hollow.
“Nat?” your voice cracked, barely above a whisper.
“Yeah?”
“I don’t… I don’t know how to… how to deal with this,” you admitted, your chest tightening again as the sobs threatened to resurface. “I don’t know if I can.”
Nat’s voice was soft, but firm. “You can. And you don’t have to do it alone. I’m here. I’ll always be here.”
The phone went silent, and for the first time in hours, you let out a breath that didn’t feel like it was tearing you apart.
She was coming.
× × × ×
The rain pounded against the car’s roof, each drop falling harder than the last. It was as if the sky itself had opened up, matching the storm raging inside you. Your hands were white-knuckled on the steering wheel, your chest still heaving from the sobs that had wracked your body. The air inside the car felt suffocating. The sound of the blinker—tick, tick, tick—was the only steady thing amidst the chaos of your breath and the downpour outside.
You couldn’t stop shaking.
When Nat’s car finally pulled up beside yours, you didn’t move. You couldn’t. The weight of your grief had pinned you to the seat, your body too exhausted to do anything but tremble. Her car door opened, and within seconds, she was there—ripping your passenger door open and sliding in without hesitation.
“Y/N.” Nat’s voice was soft, firm—grounding.
She didn’t ask questions. She didn’t need to. The look on her face said everything: she knew. She always knew when things were falling apart. Her hand gently rested on your shoulder, the touch comforting in its simplicity.
You tried to speak, but your throat burned, your chest too tight to form words. Another sob broke free instead, and Nat’s hand squeezed your shoulder gently, her presence steady even as your world seemed to collapse around you.
“You’re okay,” she whispered, her voice a soothing anchor. “We’ll get through this.”
But you weren’t okay.
From the corner of your eye, you saw movement just outside the car—Bucky. He stood there in the rain, his hair dripping wet, eyes shadowed with concern as he watched from a distance. He hadn’t stepped closer, hadn’t spoken, but you could feel the weight of his gaze. Like he wanted to be there for you, but wasn’t sure if he should.
The door on Nat’s side clicked as she spoke again, her voice a little more urgent now. “Come on, let’s get you out of here.”
Slowly, with her guidance, you unclenched your grip from the steering wheel and wiped at your face with shaking hands. Your body was so worn out that you could hardly feel the motion of it as you finally opened the door and stepped out into the rain. Nat was at your side instantly, holding an umbrella over you as she guided you toward her car.
Bucky was there, too, close but not too close, watching every step you took as if he was waiting—waiting for something to fall apart that he could help catch.
Nat opened the back door and gently helped you inside, her presence so calm, so steady, it nearly broke you all over again. “You’re safe now,” she murmured, tucking you in as if you were something fragile. “Just breathe, Y/N.”
You nodded, though your chest still felt like it was caving in. And then, in the middle of the downpour, you heard Bucky’s voice—low, hesitant—from behind Nat.
“I’ll drive her car back to the compound.”
Nat glanced over at him, “Yeah. Thanks.”
You could hear the shuffle of Bucky’s footsteps through the rain as he climbed into your car, the engine rumbling to life. And in that moment, you felt a strange tug of comfort—knowing he was there, that he was watching out for you, even from afar.
Nat slid into the driver’s seat beside you, her hand resting lightly on the gear shift. She turned her head just slightly, her gaze soft. “You’re not alone, Y/N.”
But as she pulled away from the curb, the rain still lashing against the windows, you couldn’t help but feel like part of you had been left behind in the storm—shattered and scattered, waiting to be pieced back together.
And when you glanced out the window, you saw Bucky’s figure in the distance, his eyes never leaving you as you disappeared into the rain.
× × × ×
Nat’s room was a cocoon of warmth compared to the cold, stormy world outside. The soft glow of the bedside lamp illuminated the space, casting long shadows that felt strangely comforting. You sat on the edge of the bed, your arms wrapped around yourself, the weight of everything still heavy on your shoulders. Nat was beside you, her hand resting gently on your knee, her presence steady, unwavering.
“Y/N,” she said softly, her voice laced with concern, “you’re going to get through this. I know it feels like everything’s falling apart right now, but you’re stronger than you think.”
You let out a shaky breath, nodding even though you didn’t entirely believe her. The weight in your chest made it hard to breathe, and it felt like no matter how many words of comfort she offered, the broken pieces of your heart would never fully heal. But Nat was there, and her words were like a balm, even if they couldn’t fully take the pain away.
“I don’t want to be here anymore,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I just… I want to get away. Far away.”
Nat’s hand tightened slightly on your knee, her expression understanding. “Where do you want to go?”
From the far side of the room, Bucky shifted, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, his face shadowed in the dim light. He hadn’t said much since they brought you back to the compound, but his presence was constant, like a silent protector.
“Where would you go?” Bucky asked quietly, his voice low but steady, cutting through the silence. His blue eyes met yours, calm, as if he’d follow you anywhere if it meant keeping you safe.
You hesitated for a moment, your heart still aching, but then—despite everything, despite the pain—a tiny smile tugged at the corner of your lips. “Switzerland.”
Nat’s eyebrows shot up, a small laugh escaping her lips despite the tension. “Switzerland?”
You shrugged, forcing a laugh of your own, though it was weak. “Yeah. I’ve always wanted to live there. You know… fresh air, the Alps, chocolate. All that good stuff.”
Bucky’s gaze softened, his arms dropping slightly as he watched you. His lips quirked into a faint smile, the kind that barely reached his eyes but still offered some kind of warmth.
“Switzerland, huh?” he said, his voice lighter, though you could still hear the worry beneath it. “Sounds like a solid plan.”
You nodded, trying to hold on to the fleeting moment of levity. “Yeah, I’ll just… disappear into the mountains. Maybe open a chocolate shop. Be a hermit or something.”
Nat let out a small chuckle, squeezing your knee gently. “Well, if you’re moving to Switzerland, I expect free chocolate for life.”
For a moment, the heaviness in the room lifted, the faint laughter between you, Nat, and Bucky providing a small reprieve from the storm inside. But it didn’t last long. The ache in your chest was still there, gnawing at you from the inside out.
“I just… I don’t know if I can stay here,” you whispered, your voice cracking again.
Nat pulled you into a soft hug, her arms wrapped around you as she rested her chin on your shoulder. “You don’t have to make any decisions right now. Just know that whatever you decide, we’re here for you.”
“Let’s go. We’ve got the Quinjet.” Bucky said casually.
You blinked, taken aback, your mind struggling to process if he was serious. “Wait… isn’t that illegal?”
Bucky’s smirk grew a little wider, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Not if you say you’re living in the Alps. No one will know.”
Nat chuckled beside you, shaking her head in disbelief. “Seriously, Buck?”
He shrugged, still leaning casually against the wall. “I’m just saying. You want to go to Switzerland, we can be there in a few hours.”
Despite the exhaustion weighing you down, you couldn’t help but laugh softly, a real one this time. The thought of disappearing into the mountains with Bucky and Nat—away from everything, even just for a moment—felt like a breath of fresh air in the midst of the chaos inside you.
Nat gave you a playful nudge. “See? Even Bucky’s ready to smuggle you out of here if you need it.”
“But I have to handle something first,” he added, his voice dropping slightly, that protective edge returning. “When I’m done, we’ll go.”
× × × ×
The night was dark, the rain having slowed to a light drizzle. Bucky stalked through the compound grounds, his mind racing, heart pounding with a mix of anger and frustration. He’d seen Steve’s name pop up on his phone—a heads-up that the man was on his way here. To see you.
And Bucky couldn’t let that happen. Not after everything Steve did.
Steve’s figure appeared through the mist, walking toward the compound with his usual purposeful stride, but the moment he caught sight of Bucky, his steps slowed.
“Bucky?” Steve’s voice was wary, confused.
“You’re not going in there.” Bucky stepped into his path, his face hard.
Steve frowned, his eyes narrowing. “What are you talking about? I need to see Y/N.”
“You’re not going near her.” Bucky’s jaw clenched, his hands curling into fists at his sides.
“She’s my girlfriend, Bucky. I have a right to talk to her.” Steve’s gaze darkened, his frustration mounting.
Bucky’s laugh was bitter, sharp. “Girlfriend? You lost that right the second you lied to her. The second you hurt her, you punk.”
Steve stepped forward, his voice low, angry. “This isn’t your place. I need to fix this. I need to talk to her.”
Bucky’s eyes flashed with fury, and for a moment, all the years of holding back, of stepping aside for Steve, bubbled to the surface. He moved closer, his voice low and dangerous.
“You don’t get it, do you? I gave up on Y/N for you. I stood back—for you—because I thought you’d take care of her. And now? Now you’ve gone and fucked her over.”
Steve’s face twisted in confusion, anger flashing in his eyes. “What are you talking about? Gave up? She’s never been—”
“She was,” Bucky snapped, cutting him off. “Before you even realized what you had, Steve, I was there. But I didn’t do anything because I thought she’d be better off with you. You were the golden boy, the hero. And now you’ve ruined her.”
Steve’s eyes widened in shock, his chest rising and falling with barely controlled breaths. “You’ve been in love with her this whole time?”
Bucky didn’t flinch. His voice was steady, hard. “Doesn’t matter now, does it? What matters is you hurt her, Steve. You don’t get to fix this on your terms.”
Steve’s fists clenched as he stepped forward, his face twisted with anger. “Move. This is between me and Y/N.”
“I’m not letting you through,” Bucky said, his eyes blazing, daring Steve to push him.
Steve’s frustration boiled over, and with a sharp movement, he shoved Bucky hard in the chest, trying to get past him. “Get out of my way, Bucky!”
Bucky stumbled barely, but he recovered almost immediately. The moment he regained his balance, he shoved Steve back with just as much force, his voice a low, angry growl.
“You’re not going anywhere near her!”
Steve snarled and came at Bucky again, this time grabbing him by the collar and pushing him against the doorframe. “I need to talk to her! You don’t get to decide!”
Bucky’s hands flew up, gripping Steve’s jacket as he shoved him back again, harder this time, their faces inches apart. “She doesn’t want to see you right now!”
Steve’s eyes flashed with desperatiom, and before either of them realized it, they were nose-to-nose, fists clenched, chests heaving, the tension dangerous.
“You think you’re the only one who cares about her?” Steve snapped, his voice low and venomous. “I love her.”
“And you’ve proven exactly what that means to you,” Bucky bit back, his voice filled with icy fury. “You’re not fixing this by charging in like you always do. She’s done with you.”
Steve let out a frustrated growl and swung his arm out, pushing Bucky off him. “You think I’m just supposed to walk away?”
Bucky shoved Steve back again, his grip tightening on Steve’s shirt, their faces just inches apart now. His voice was a low, dangerous growl. “You think stepping in now, after everything you’ve done, makes it better? She’s broken because of you. You did that, Steve. And I’m not letting you make it worse.”
Steve’s nostrils flared, his eyes dark with a mixture of anger and something deeper—guilt, maybe. His grip tightened on Bucky’s jacket as he squared up, their bodies tense, on the edge of an all-out brawl. “And what, you’re just going to sweep in? Take care of her? You think that’s what she needs right now?”
“I’m trying to keep her from getting hurt any more than she already has,” Bucky hissed, his voice barely more than a whisper now, his eyes locked on Steve’s. “She trusted you. She loved you. And you broke her. So yeah, I’m going to do whatever it takes to keep you away from her until she’s ready to deal with you.”
Steve’s breath hitched, his voice sharp with frustration. “You think you’re better than me? You think you haven’t hurt her too?”
Bucky’s grip tightened as his eyes flashed dangerously. “I never lied to her. I never betrayed her.”
Steve let out a short, bitter laugh. “But you kept quiet, didn’t you? You stood there, watching, and said nothing. You let me take her, and now you’re pretending like you’re the hero. But the truth is, you were a coward then, and you’re still a coward now.”
Something snapped in Bucky at those words. His fist shot up, shoving Steve hard enough to slam him back into the doorframe with a loud thud, his chest heaving as he glared at his best friend with pure fury in his eyes. “You don’t get to talk to me about being a coward. I gave her up because I thought she’d be better off with you. But you ruined her, Steve.”
For a second, Steve’s eyes flashed with something close to regret, but the anger was still there, simmering beneath the surface. He stepped forward again, ready for whatever came next. “I didn’t know. I didn’t—”
“You never knew,” Bucky growled, pushing him back again, but this time it was more controlled, less of a full force shove and more of a warning. “You were too busy being the hero to see what was right in front of you.”
Steve took a deep breath, his hands still balled into fists, but something shifted between them—like they both realized, in that moment, that this fight wasn’t going to solve anything. Slowly, almost reluctantly, they both let go of each other, their chests still heaving with the remnants of the almost-fight that had just played out.
The tension between them lingered, thick and heavy in the air, but neither of them moved. They stood there, inches apart, breathing hard, their anger still simmering just beneath the surface.
“You don’t get to just walk in there and fix this,” Bucky said, his voice low but firm.
Steve took a step back, his face still tense with frustration and guilt. He didn’t say anything.
“Go home Steve.” Bucky insisted, “You’ve done enough.”
× × × ×
6 months later.
The scent of freshly brewed coffee curled in the air as you stepped out of the café, clutching the two steaming cups in your hands. The world seemed quieter here, like the city didn’t press in on you quite as much, even though you had only been back for a few days. Six months. Six months of distance, of trying to build yourself back up after being shattered into pieces.
You inhaled deeply, letting the cool breeze rush over you, easing some of the tension coiled tight in your chest.
And then—everything stopped.
From across the street, you felt it. The weight of someone’s gaze locking onto you. Slowly, you looked up, your heart skipping a beat, your body freezing in place.
Steve.
He stood there, as if time itself had conspired to bring this moment crashing down upon you. His face was frozen in shock, his hand mid-motion as the small boy next to him tugged on his sleeve, trying to get his attention. But Steve’s focus was entirely on you.
He looked the same—yet older, somehow, like the months had worn him down in ways you hadn’t expected. His eyes—those familiar blue eyes—locked onto yours, and the rest of the world fell away.
Your heart thundered in your ears, drowning out the city’s noise. All that existed was the look on his face—surprise, yes, but there was something else too. Regret. Pain. Questions he couldn’t voice.
You felt rooted to the spot, torn between the urge to run and the overwhelming need to hold your ground. You could see it in his eyes—he wanted to come closer, to ask where you had been, why you left, why you never told him. His hand gripped the boy’s shoulder like he needed something to tether him to the moment.
And then, with a jarring snap, the moment broke.
A warm arm slid around your waist, pulling you into a comforting embrace towards his body.
“Hey love,” Dane Whitman’s familiar British accent rumbled softly beside you, his lips brushing your temple as he pressed a gentle kiss there. “Got your ham and cheese croissant.”
The simple, easy intimacy of it would have been grounding—if not for the fact that you could feel Steve’s eyes still burning into you from across the street. You could sense him standing there, as if the world had collapsed around him. As if he was watching something slip away that he hadn’t even realized he was losing.
Dane’s brow furrowed as he noticed your tension, noticed the way you hadn’t responded, hadn’t even moved.
“Y/N?” he asked softly, leaning down slightly to meet your eyes. His arm tightened around your waist, pulling you closer.
When you didn’t answer, Dane followed your line of sight.
He stiffened.
You didn’t need to see his expression to know what was happening. The air between the three of you felt charged, heavy with unspoken words, with everything that had been left behind. Dane’s fingers flexed against your waist, a silent claim—a reassurance, or maybe a question he didn’t dare ask.
Because he knew who Steve was. And he knew exactly what seeing him again meant.
You could feel the tension roll through Dane’s body as he lifted his gaze from Steve back to you, his eyes softening. He didn’t ask, didn’t press. But his arm around you was both a comfort and a shield.
“Let’s go,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. You didn’t dare look back at Steve again. You couldn’t.
Dane gave a subtle nod, but his hold on you never faltered. He gently guided you down the street, his body leaning protectively into yours as if he could shield you from the weight of the past you were leaving behind.
But as you walked away, the image of Steve lingered. You could feel his eyes on you, burning into your back, watching as you disappeared from his reach once again. And even though you didn’t turn around, you knew—you knew—what he had seen.
You. Walking away.
With someone else.
The distance between you and Steve had always been a wound, one you had tried to heal in the months you were gone. But this? This felt like salt poured into an open cut, the sting of it sharper than you’d anticipated.
Because despite everything, despite the way your heart still aches from the cracks he had left, a part of you wondered—what if?
But the life you had returned to wasn’t the one you left. And as Dane’s arm tightened around your waist, grounding you in the present, you knew that the past—no matter how deeply it was woven into your soul—was behind you.
Even if it wasn’t behind Steve.
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I am so glad you've found your spark again to write!
Could I please request a smutty Logan fic with "I can't control myself around you" and "Fuck, make that noise again"
Thank you!!
thank you anon :( that genuinely means a lot to me, i hope you know that! sorry this took a little while, my brain was trying to cook up the most delicious scenario possible and this is what it came up with. thank you so much for your patience & your request! i hope you enjoy 😋
𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐈 𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐎𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔.
logan howlett x fem!reader
summary: logan shows you just how much he likes seeing you in his clothes.
contains: smut content below the cut. MINORS DNI. oral (fem receiving), fingering, a wee bit of overstimulation if you squint, swearing, logan being hot as fuck per usual, somewhat rushed ending
word count: 2k
it’s nearly impossible for a man like logan to die.
the adamantium fused to his skeleton coupled with insane regenerative capabilities meant there were only a select few scenarios that could end his life. those usually involved a lot of science; insanely specific logistics requiring lengthy explanation.
but this? the simple sight before him? just might be what takes him out.
you’re standing in the kitchen making coffee clad in nothing but one of his flannels, humming along to some random tune that was playing on the radio. it shocks him, stopping the man dead in his tracks on his way out of the bedroom. despite having spent the night with you a few times before, your relationship was still fairly new, and clothes sharing was one of the few intimacies you had yet to indulge in.
until today.
a mixture of emotions begin to stir in his chest. logan’s heart warms over the domesticity of it, realizing he didn’t want to wake up any other morning if it wasn’t like this. if it wasn’t with you. there’s a hint of possession, knowing his scent was lingering on your skin. he hopes that maybe you’ll wear his clothes out of the house one day, a physical reminder to everyone around you that you were his, and only his. the lust hits him the strongest as he really takes a second to look you over.
the hem of the shirt sits at the top of your thighs. logan knows if you bend over in any capacity, he’ll catch a glimpse of the skimpy little panties he ripped off your body last night. his favorite pair to be exact. one of the sleeves hangs slightly off your shoulder, granting him a peak at some of the marks left just a few hours ago. the man smirks to himself, recalling how you mewled beneath him while he bit and sucked at the delicate skin of your neck. then, when you finally turn around and catch him staring, you give him a bird’s eye view of your cleavage where the shirt was barely buttoned.
you look like something out of a dream. and he almost can’t believe you’re real.
“it’s rude to stare you know,” you tease him, leaning your hip against the counter. it makes the shirt ride up even further and logan nearly salivates.
god, do you even know what you’re doing to him?
logan moves from his position against the wall, pushing off it and slowly stalking towards you. his voice is rough and gravelly, still heavy with sleep.
“can’t help it bub. not when you look this good.”
you scoff. his large hands come to squeeze at your hips while yours rest across his bare chest, softly scratching at the layer of hair that sits atop it. “could say the same thing about you handsome.”
logan hums in content as he presses his lips against yours. it's slow and saccharine, a nonverbal good morning that makes you melt into him. his hands wander across your figure, caressing every curve he’s gotten to know like the back of his hand. when his palms slip under the hem of the shirt and begin to paw at your ass, you sigh into his mouth.
“i like you in my clothes,” he mumbles against your skin as his mouth travels to your neck, pressing languid, sensual kisses against the blooming marks.
“yeah?” you breathe out in reply, hands finding purchase in his messy hair.
“yeah,” he replies right next to your ear, voice dripping in desire. “let me show you just how much.”
you hum, amused by his arousal. “last night wasn’t enough for you, bub?”
it’s logan’s turn to laugh. a deep, almost condescending sound that vibrates through your entire body.
you whimper at the loss of contact when he pulls away, only to let out a squeal seconds later when he hoists you onto the countertop in one swift motion. you flush, eyes widening at the display of his strength. the way he could manhandle you with ease was something you had yet to get used to.
“darlin’ you should know by now i can’t control myself around you,” he coos. “especially when you’re parading around lookin’ like this.”
you preen at his words, letting out the softest little sound and he gleams with pride. his eyes rake over you once more, setting your skin ablaze with all the hunger that was swimming in those hazel irises. one hand rests snugly around your hip, while the other inches towards the apex of your thighs.
logan’s thumb rubs soft circles into your skin, his pointer finger teasing the waistband of your underwear. your breath hitches at the touch, a barely there gesture that makes warmth pool in your belly. how he manages to get you so worked up over so little, you have yet to discover. he retracts his digit, letting the elastic snap against your skin. you flinch in his hold and he chuckles.
“relax,” he says, pressing a gentle kiss to the corner of your mouth. “i gotcha.”
there’s no better way to start your day than by watching logan sink to his knees in front of you. the early morning light peeks in through the curtains, casting a golden halo around his head while he starts his path up your bare legs towards where you needed him most. he looks heaven sent, and you silently thank whatever gods existed for the beautiful man kneeling between your thighs.
his kisses against your skin grow sloppier the closer he gets to your core. logan inhales deeply, catching wind of your arousal. the scent was maddening, a perfume he could never grow tired of. knowing that he was behind it, that you were just as hungry for him as he was for you, rials him up even more.
his voice is low and sensual, bordering on smug when he states, “clearly last night wasn’t enough for you either.”
logan yanks the hem of his shirt up, exposing your lower half. he presses a wet kiss against your clothed mound, inhaling your sweet aroma. you sigh, your hips moving forward on their own accord, desperate to feel more of him.
“logan,” you breathe out. “don’t tease.”
“don’t tease?” he parrots your question. “you’re one to talk.”
“s’just a shirt.” you reason meekly, still not fully awake yet, and somehow already drunk on logan.
“not to me darlin’” his breath is hot and heavy against your cunt as he finally grants your wish, pulling your panties to the side and licking a long stripe up your center. “not to me.”
you’re almost embarrassed over the moan that comes out of your mouth, but god do you feel good. logan doesn’t waste any time, yanking your underwear down your legs before he starts to devour you like a man starved. his tongue darts back and forth between your entrance and your swollen clit, a delicious rotation that has you feeling boneless in record time. you throw your head back, hand reaching out to grip onto his brown locks.
its moments like these where you wonder how you were ever with anyone else before him. nothing and no one could compare to the pleasure that logan brought. his desire for you was never fully satiated, and when you look down to catch logan staring back at you with lidded eyes, you don’t think yours will ever be either.
“feel good?” he asks rhetorically, knowing the way your body responds is answer enough. all you can muster out of your mouth is a high pitched whine as he slips two fingers into your entrance without warning.
logan’s cock twitches in his boxers at the sound. “fuck, make that noise again for me baby.”
with the combination of his fingers pumping in and out of you, and his lips sucking harshly on your clit, you unintentionally obey his command. it’s music to logan’s ears, encouraging him to pick up the pace.
you can feel the muscles in your abdomen growing taught. a sign that your orgasm was approaching. logan, ever the observer, yanks you closer, throwing your legs over his shoulders and dangling your ass off the edge of the kitchen counter.
with the new and better angle, your back arches, causing the shirt to fall even further off your shoulder and exposing more of your flushed skin. with your eyes fluttering and your mouth dropped open in the most perfect pout, logan thinks you’ve never looked more beautiful.
not as beautiful as when you’re cumming however. that part he was determined to have happen sooner than later.
“fuck,” you preen, beginning to grind against his face as your hips fall into a steady rhythm. “don’t stop.”
“wasn’t planning on it.” he mumbles against your folds, his tongue now accompanying the thick digits.
his cockiness only expedites your release. with one hand gripping the counter and the other tugging at your boyfriend’s hair, you teeter close to the edge. at the pull of his locks, logan groans into your pussy, his nose nudging at your clit. the shockwaves that spread through your body feel like wildfire, and it’s the most wonderful way to burn.
“gonna cum for me honey?” logan questions, curling his fingers in just the right way, knowing that’s the spot to hit to guarantee your climax. you nod, too focused on the growing pressure in your core to speak actual words. the only thing you’re capable of right now is a string of curses with logan’s name sprinkled in between. it falls from your lips like a prayer as your orgasm creeps up the back of your neck.
when it hits, it washes over you like a tidal wave, drowning you in the most electrifying kind of bliss. with one final, loud moan, your hips jolt foward, thighs tightening around logan’s head all the while his ministrations continue. he always rode out your high until you were gently shoving him off from the overstimulation.
“lo,” you breathe out, slowly coming back down to reality. he hums between your legs in acknowledgement, ceasing his actions and offering one final kiss to your sensitive clit before rising to his feet.
his already sleep mused hair was ruffled even further from your grabby hands. there’s a dreamy sheen in his eyes, from the early morning or your release soaking the lower half of his face, you’re not sure. whatever it was, he was beaming, smiling at you with so much affection and adoration you felt like you could explode. a stark contrast to the filth that took place mere moments ago.
“if i had known that wearing your shirt was going to result in that, i would’ve stolen it a long time ago,” you joke, pulling up the sleeve to cover yourself.
logan snickers, slotting himself between your spread legs and finding your lips once more.
“looks way better on you anyways” he murmurs between kisses, ravaging your mouth while caressing your jaw. tasting yourself on his tongue was always a dizzying thing, even more so at the thought of what was in store as you felt his very prominent bulge rubbing against your thigh.
“is that so?” you challenge, tracing your fingers along the trail of hair that travels below his waistline. you don’t miss the way his muscles flex under your touch, the way he grows even harder at the jest.
logan pulls back, the picture of sex and smugness as the corner of his mouth turns up in a smirk. he makes a show of sucking your juices off his fingers, groaning dramatically as they enter between his spit soaked lips. when he nods in the direction of the bedroom, you’re already getting wet again, knowing exactly what the rest of your morning is going to entail.
“go in there, and lay down with your pretty little ass up for me will you?”
you quirk a brow, loving to push his buttons. little acts of defiance always made the end result worth it after all.
logan smacks his palm against your bare ass, taking pleasure in the little yelp you let out and the dazed look in your eyes.
“m’not done with you just yet.”
thanks for reading! <3
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