#steve rogers x laitnx!reader

[valthevalkyrie]

A Good Guy

Steve’s got a girlfriend and for now, they’re long distance. He visits her and comes to terms with an ugly truth.

Pairing: Steve x f!latinx!reader

Word Count: 4.3K

Warnings: talk of sick parent, infidelity, implied infidelity, cheating, brief mention of child abandonment (kinda), jealousy, implied smut

A/N: This is sooo long overdue and I’m so very sorry for that, but this was originally going to be my entry for @allaboardthereadingrailroad Marvel Diversity Challenge before life got in the way and then the fic itself got a life of it’s own. My prompt was the song Pretty Please by Dua Lipa. This fic is almost the complete opposite of what I’d had in mind when entering the challenge. This is intended to be some kind of prologue to a series (if I can manage to finish it). If you can think of any other warnings that you’d like me to add please let me know! i'm so nervous to share this

masterlist

Steve knew he was a good guy. People told him so, and he always did everything he could to do the right thing. But right now, he was the bad guy.

Oooh, he was so the bad guy. He’s been the bad guy for a while.

A good guy wouldn’t sabotage his own relationship. A good guy wouldn’t masturbate to the sounds of his roommate getting off while his girlfriend was out of state. A good guy wouldn’t try to set up his girlfriend to sleep with someone else. A good guy wouldn’t try to make his gorgeous girlfriend fuck his old friend so she feels guilty and breaks up with him because she cheated. A good guy didn’t have phone sex with his girlfriend while said roommate sucked him off.

A good guy would’ve been honest with his girlfriend when she asked how comfortable he was with a long distance relationship. He would’ve told her that he loves her loads but he’s not sure he can handle the pressure. A good guy would’ve told her that their roommate’s advances were getting bolder and harder to resist. A good guy would’ve told her the moment he was doubting the strength of their relationship. Of his strength. A good guy would’ve broken up with his girl as soon as he realized what he did. A good guy would’ve kept his old friend’s journal with him (what’s a few more years?) and let his girlfriend go take care of her mother in peace.

A good guy would’ve done a lot of things, and a good guy Steve is not.

Instead, Steve is currently in an uber on his way to his girlfriend’s house after having spent the whole night angsting over his own stupid ass decisions. Wallowing in self pity while looking at the picture his girlfriend sent him weeks ago from the bar. The one where she’s snug against some random guy, who wasn’t even the one he sent her to see. The same night she’d called drunk as hell, telling him how much she loved him. Once she got home she’d called him up again, they had phone sex and he still fucked Peggy.

It shouldn’t bother him that much. It shouldn’t bother him enough to pull the picture up on his phone to torture himself some more. That his girl is cuddled up to some handsome stranger. Who just so happens to be his friend’s friend. Of course it would be just his luck that on the one night that she decided to go out partying with her friends she runs into his friend and his group of friends. One of them being a tall, dark and handsome motherfucker with perfectly sculpted cheekbones and an endearing gap toothed smile. It shouldn’t bother him to see her eyes all squished and warm and lazy, with a smile that shows all her teeth - the one she hates because she thinks it makes her open her mouth all weird but he loves because you can tell she’s laughing for real. His arm around her shoulders, hers around his waist, chest against chest.

“Baby, you’ll never guess who I ran into!” Her words were slurring and the sound of music and people talking filtered through the phone.

He couldn’t help the small smile that appeared on his face while he opened a can of soda with one hand. It was nice to hear her have fun. “Bucky, I know. You just sent me a picture not too long ago, remember?”

“James,” she went on as though she hadn’t heard him, “your old friend!”

“Sweetheart you just sent me the picture, remember?”

“Oh shit,” she laughed. “Yeah, I did. Hey, hey, can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“Have I told you how much I love you? Because, its like, so much, you have no idea.”

“Yeah, you have. Speaking of friends-”

“I love you so so much, Stevie, it makes my chest hurt.”

“Yeah, you too but who’s the guy next to you in the picture?”

“Oh that’s Sam!” He wasn’t sure he liked how happy she was saying this other guy’s name. “He’s so nice, Stevie, you’ll love him.”

He doesn’t fucking think so.

It shouldn’t bother him. He sent her there. Well, not to Florida, but to that situation, that group, those muscular arms. Things are technically going to plan and he should be happy, but he’s not. Now he’s doubting himself. But everything’s been set into motion and he can’t stop it.

The closer he gets to her house the more he can feel something in him start to vibrate, like his bones were trying to phase out of his skin. He feels guilty as hell though, as he should. Excited to see her, because he does love her. She’s one of the best people he’s ever met and she’s just so full of love and always showered him with it.

Her house is in a nicer suburb than he expected, based on what she told him of her growing up. It was a cute house, one story, with a small stone porch to the right and a smallish driveway in front of the garage to the left, and plants all around. They had a tall fence separating their property from those next to them.

He could see a dark shape in the curtains, but it moves so fast he doesn’t get a chance to see what it is. As the car pulls into the driveway, the front door opens and there she is. The love of his life (the one he cheated on).

She’s got a huge smile on her face, skin glowing. Barefoot, she’s wearing some tattered denim shorts and one of his shirts; damn he forgot how good she looked in his clothes. He missed the way she filled them. Her hair’s in a loose low pony, stray curls falling around her face. He can see his name on her lips while she bounces on the tips of her toes.

As natural as he’s trying to be, like all nonchalant and shit, he knows he’s being very chalant. He can feel the tension in his shoulders while he’s moving out of the car and he knows she can see it too because her gleeful expression quickly turns to one of worry. If anything, trying to not be stiff is making him more stiff and it’s not long before he’s walking like he’s trying not to shit his pants.

“Are you ok,” she laughs. “Why are you walking like that?” She gets an understanding look on her face, “did you eat too many bananas again?”

“What, no. It’s just jet lag.”

“We’re in the same time zone, dummy.” She smiles at him, a soft look in her eyes. “Get over here, old man, you’re taking forever.”

He hadn’t noticed that he’d practically stopped walking. Once he was almost in front of her, she opened her arms and made grabby hands. He lets his bag drop to the floor and wraps his arms around her waist and buries his head in her neck. She wraps hers around his shoulders and idly scratches the nape of his neck, and he feels the tension seep out of him.

“There we go,” she hums. “You have no idea how much I missed having your arms around me.” She gives his shoulder a kiss. “You wanna tell me what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” he mumbled.

She flicked his neck. “Don’t lie to me, Steve Rogers. Don’t you start that shit so soon on your trip, please.”

“It’s nothing, I promise.” He gave her neck a kiss and lifted his head. “I’m just really tired with all this school stuff and I’ve been missing you a lot.”

She laid a hand on his face, thumb gently stroking his cheekbone. “Are you sure,” she murmured. At his nod, she pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I can’t do anything about the school stress, but you’re here with me now. And I’ve missed you a lot too.” She gave a kiss to his other cheek. Then one to his nose. And one to his chin. His brow. His eyes. Slowly and then quicker and louder, obnoxiously peppering his face and neck in kisses, holding his head hostage until he started laughing. Steve started pulling his head away and she tried to hold him down to reach him on her tiptoes. “Don’t go,” she giggled with her lips puckered, “I can’t show you my love if you go and take away your face.”

“Put your tongue away,” he laughed, “you can’t show love with your tongue.”

“You know that’s not true. I’ve shown you love with my tongue many times, in many places.”

He stopped for a beat and looked down at her. “Touché.”

Damn. Look at her. Smiling at him all soft and gooey. He almost forgot how much he loved her. Like, he knew he did, but it was almost like a memory of that love and to be in front of her now, in her arms, he’s ashamed that he let the feeling get away.

“Come ‘ere,” she mumbled. And this time he followed where her hands led. She kept her eyes on his as she drew him closer, noses brushing, breath mixing, and right as their lips were about to touch there was a bang at the window.

They looked over just in time to see a little girl try and fail to keep her balance, falling out of the view of the window. They crack up, kiss forgotten.

“Is that who I think it is?” Steve bent down to grab his bag.

“Yeah. Yoenid is very excited to meet you in person, in case it isn’t obvious.”

They walk into the house and Yoenid is sitting on the couch, legs crossed and hands on her knees. “Sup,” she nods at Steve.

Y/N snorts. “Steve, you’ve spoken to my niece before, Yoenid. Yoenid, this is the hunky boyfriend of mine that you’ve been thirsting over for the past, oh I don’t know, four months.”

She flips her hair, “very nice to meet you in person, Steven.” She could pass for her kid if he didn’t know any better.

“You too, kid.” She ducks her head, giggling and shifting on the couch, but seeing as she’s on the edge of the cushions, she almost falls off of it.

“Alright let’s go, Stevie. I’ll show you where you’ll be staying.” As she directs him out of the living room she lags behind. “Very smooth, Joey.”

“Shut up,” she hisses.

Y/N leads him down a hall towards the back of the house and takes him to the patio. “Um. Am I sleeping in the backyard or something?” He laughs nervously.

“Or something.”

Shit. Did she find out he cheated? Is this some discreet way of calling him out on it? She did mention lying earlier. But she almost kissed him. She said she missed him. Is this some twisted form of revenge? Did she turn into some toxic version of herself looking for drama? Will she take him to the back just to smack him around out of sight of the neighbors and then kick him out on the street? It’s not like he didn’t deserve it. Ugh, he was fucked.

They exit to the side of the house and turn left. He sees a cute little house, almost like a shed but bigger. “Is that a guest house?”

“Half of it is. This door,” she gestures to the only door in front of them, “is where Mami runs her business. This other door,” she leads him to the side of the little building, “is the guest house.” She opens the door to a decently sized room with a small kitchenette to the left, a little table with two chairs, a full bed in front of him and a small closet on the wall next to him. It was filled with her belongings, and some of his, he noted. One of his hoodies was hanging off the back of one of the chairs.

“Surprise,” she cheers. “You’ll be staying with me! Don’t worry, we’ve got air conditioning.” It was a good thing, because she liked to joke that her tropical blood made her run hot and that’s why she was so warm at night. “We also don’t have a toilet here so we have to go in the house to shower and stuff.”

He sets his bag down and tells her he thinks it's nice. She thanks him and tells him he can put his stuff away. While he does, she asks him how his trip went and how their friends back home are doing. As they talk, they fall into a familiar rhythm and he beats himself up more for letting a little bit of distance make him believe they were growing apart.

Unattended. Although he didn’t like how it made him sound like a bratty kid or something, it was the only word that seemed to fit how he’d been feeling. He knew that Y/N had a legitimate reason for not talking to him every single day. A dying mother? Yeah, that’ll do it.

It’s just that for the past two and a half years they spent most of their time together. They lunched together when they could, they lived with each other, would text each other like all day long. Now, they’d skype every couple days, some of the calls kinda short, and the texts didn’t flow like they used to. Sometimes it’d be hours between responses. And he knows he sounds bratty. Like a spoiled kid. Like someone who doesn’t understand that adults have lives and responsibilities and can’t constantly be on the phone, and it makes him feel ba-

No. You know what? A part of him stomps his foot deep in his mind. He misses his girlfriend, dammit. He has a right to miss his girlfriend, and just because he misses her doesn’t mean that he can’t rationally understand why she’s away. They can go hand in hand, it doesn’t have to be an either or situation.

He sighs.

It still doesn’t excuse the cheating.

A part of him wants her to come back to him regardless of how her mother is doing and what he’s done. She’d been dealing with it for years and is just fine, she doesn’t really need Y/N around, right?

Oh my god, no! Don’t think that you asshole. Of course she needs her. Y/N would never forgive herself if she didn’t do all she could for her mother and he would never forgive himself for taking her from her mother when she needs her the most.

He’d never forgive himself for cheating on her either.

“My mom should be back from the store by now, we should go say hi.” As soon as they walk out, they hear a car door slam. “Ooh, perfect timing,” she smiles.

The walk back to the house takes way too long, everything moving at half speed. He can feel the itch of oncoming sweat in his pits and he can’t figure out if the reason he’s sweating is the stupid Florida heat or the stress of meeting her mother. The times that they met over skype she was always very observant, sometimes being quicker than Y/N to notice something was wrong. Meeting the parents on a good day is a big enough deal, but meeting them after cheating on their kid? Of cheating on the child of someone who had a history of throwing hands at everyone and their mother? Well, that’s a whole other beast. A beast he was not ready to meet and admittedly too scared to try to slay.

His girlfriend opens the gate on the fence to meet her mother out in front of the house. By the time they get there though, there’s an empty car with a trunk full of groceries open. Y/N mentions she must already be inside and offers to go get her. He stops her and insists that he’ll take in all the groceries, its a little thing, the very least he could do when she was letting him stay at her house.

After she leaves, he tries to take a moment to collect himself. Take a few deep breaths, roll the tension out of his body. It doesn’t really work.

Luckily, Y/N’s mom didn’t have a whole lot of groceries and he was able to bring them all in at once.

He’s walking into the house and is greeted by her mother, a small, loud woman with Y/N’s smile and gestures. They sit and talk while she gets him some coffee and he can see her mother look at him some type of way, knows she can see that he’s not quite himself, that something’s wrong. She knows his usual flow of conversation, how big his smile really gets, how his real laugh sounds. She’s looking at him with a mother’s eyes, intrusive and all knowing and scary as hell, and he’s worried she’s gonna say something to Y/N.

He tried to act as naturally as possible, but it was the uber all over again. He was too chalant. Steve couldn’t help but feel like her mom could notice how stiff he was. He was so tense his shoulders and upper middle back were starting to ache, like when it's really cold outside and he’s stopped shivering and everything just locks in place to try to stop himself from getting colder.

All throughout dinner, he tried to act natural, but he couldn’t taste the food. His cheeks felt pinched, smiles fake, head hurting because of how long he tried to hold his eyebrows high in a happy, casual manner and not bunched and frowning.

Luckily for him, Y/N didn’t seem to notice how weird he was being, and he probably would be a little more relaxed if her mother wasn’t looking at him like that. It almost seemed like she could read his mind, like she knew what he did and a little more.

She always told them the Holy Spirit told her things. Supposedly that was how she was able to call out Y/N for sleeping with him before getting married because the Holy Spirit told her, helped her notice the change in Y/N’s face, which was a bit ridiculous because he wasn’t her first. Could it be happening right now? Could she see some kind of invisible, spiritual change in his face? Did it tell her he’d not only thought of cheating but did? That he was ashamed of himself? That he was too much of a coward to break it off with her daughter that he sent her into the arms of his childhood best friend, but too selfish to actually want to let her go?

He didn’t know he was holding his breath until her mom kissed them goodnight and wished them well.

They stayed up watching tv for a bit with her niece between them. When she goes to sleep they’re somehow not cuddling, not touching, although they were sitting kinda close, close enough to touch but both too scared to make the move, like they could both feel something was a little off, like there was a change coming, their time limited. Maybe he was overthinking it. They hadn’t seen each other in months, it should’ve been for them to cuddle to the point of melding together.

If anyone from the outside were to see them, they’d think he’s some first time visitor, a teenage boy wracked with nerves over being left alone with his crush.

He’s wracked with nerves all right, but not with the type he should have. He missed her, he really did, but right now all he feels is guilt. Guilt over wishing she’d leave her mom to stay with him, over looking at Peggy the way he knows he shouldn’t, over doubting the strength of their relationship, over doubting their relationship in general, over trying to play matchmaker with her and his old friend, sending her to him so she’d eventually break up with him, trying to sabotage her into cheating before she finds out he did.

He can feel her watching him, but he pretends to be paying attention to whatever the fuck is on the screen. They’re both really quiet for a while and the longer he tries to ignore her and act like nothing's wrong while pretending to pay attention to the tv the harder he can feel her watching him. Heat is creeping up his neck and the itchy feeling in his pits is coming back.

The feeling of her foot poking him startles him enough to make him jump.

“Are you sure you’re alright? You’ve been acting weird all night.” She looks at him with eyebrows furrowed and biting the inside of her cheek.

He tries to smile, tries to give her some kind of answer, but the words are stuck in his throat in the same way when you eat something too dry and don’t drink anything to wash it down.

She stops biting her cheek and stares, waiting for him to say something. He can feel the tension building, knows the flush climbing his neck is making his ears red red. He’s scared shitless. He knows he’s gotta tell her the truth, knows that he should break up with her for her own good. But he’s scared.

What if she starts crying? What if she gets mad and gets physical? Starts yelling and throwing shit around, making him feel worse than what he already does. Calls him out on all the wrong things he did in their relationship. How sometimes he worried too much about what other people would think of him and not do what he needed to do because of it. Like telling Peggy to back the fuck off because he was in a committed relationship because he didn’t want her to not like him anymore. Or like the time some classmates of his made some lewd comments about Y/N and he didn’t say anything because he didn’t want the rest of the project time to be awkward.

What if she called him out for the coward that he was? Asking why he even bothered to come here when he’d known what he did and could’ve just broken up with her over the phone or something. Said she never wanted to see him again and to rot in hell. Told him all the things she didn’t like about him.

It wasn’t until he felt her hand on his cheek that he realized he’d been hyperventilating. “Your mind is running wild. Can I help you slow it down?”

He can’t find the words so he nods instead. She gently moves him until he’s laying on the couch with his head in her lap. Once he gets comfortable she starts to run her fingers through his hair while she continues watching whatever it was she was watching.

As much as he wants it to help, her fingers running through his hair is actually making things worse. Steve can’t help but think back on all the times they did just this, decompressing after midterms or just relaxing after not seeing each other the whole day. Or when she’d be on her period and just needed some company while she was feeling down. He’d play with her hair, massage her scalp, run his finger down her nose till she fell asleep.

Why did he mess up such a good thing?

Was it because he was nervous about moving into their own place when she got back from taking care of her mother? Or was it because they wanted different things out of life? Only one of them wanted kids and marriage and it wasn’t her. He dreamed of having those thing, he wanted that apple pie life. The American dream. Did he really want to stay with someone when he knew that eventually it had to end? Did he really want to stay in a relationship that was going nowhere?

No. You know what, he’s tired of thinking about this, obsessing over things that can’t be changed.

His hand makes its way to her cheek and he silently urges her to look at him. “Kiss me,” he mumbles.

One thing leads to another and they find themselves in their shared room.

No matter how many tingles her touch sends down his spine he can’t take his mind completely off of the fact that he betrayed her.

A sick part of him can’t help but to compare her to Peggy. They’re totally different and she’s known him longer, knows what gets him going, how to make him lose his train of thought. But they’re both holding back and as good as it feels they both know something’s off. Their climaxes are as good as they can be with both parties distracted and after they’ve not seen each other for months.

The post sex cuddles are exactly what he needs though, and he feels more connected to her than he has the entire evening. Her head is on his chest, arm slung over his waist, leg draped over his own. Steve’s hand is slowly tracing circles over her arm as she falls asleep mumbling how much she loves him. He smiles. He missed her so much, he missed this so much. He missed holding her, having her with him. He missed her attention.

Not long after his girlfriend has fallen asleep, Steve can hear his phone vibrate. He gently slips out from beneath her and goes for his phone in his discarded pants.

It’s Peggy.

He answers as quietly as he can, scolding her for calling while she knows he’s with his girlfriend. They have a little back and forth and she manages to soften him up enough to admit that he misses her too.

He lays back down while talking to her and somehow ends up getting off to the sounds of her masturbating on the other end of the phone.

Yeah. He’s not a good guy.

_

A/N: I've read over this so many times and am still not completely satisfied, but please let me know what you think and if you'd be interested in any follow ups to this particular pairing. If anything sounds kinda familiar, it's because it was intended to be a Definitely, Maybe AU but it changed and isn't really that anymore

i'm not really one to do taglists but feel free to check out my blog for the fics and just the fics @valthevalkyrielibrary