tom holland/peter parker and steve rogers oneshots

mistletoe- steve rogers (part 2)

Taking another sip of your hot cocoa, you sighed. You hated yourself for loving him too much, yet part of your brain was telling you otherwise and that you shouldn't give up now because there was so much that could happen.

Your stomach had all of a sudden felt as if it was in knots, and breathing had suddenly became difficult as you struggled to take in a single breath without looking like you were genuinely not okay.

You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat growing and making it harder for you to breathe.

"Excuse me," you muttered before trudging upstairs to your room.

"Is she okay?" you heard Steve ask from downstairs.

"I'll go check on her," Tony responded, and within seconds you heard a knock on your door.

"Come in," you called, and curled up into a little ball on your bed just like you used to do when you were young. You didn't care if you looked or acted childish at the moment, really, you could care less about that.

He sat down at the edge, watching you intently as your body shook with sobs. "Y/N, honey, are you sick? Is something wrong?"

"Nothing, Dad, I'm fine," you lied.

"Something's wrong. Tell me," he ordered, his voice stern. "You can't be sad on Christmas Eve!"

"My head hurts, I can't breathe, and just..." You choked on a sob. "I don't know, I don't..."

"I know, I know," he murmured as he pulled you close to him, gently rubbing your back. "Now please tell me what's really going on."

"I'm so stupid for letting my feelings take over myself," you admitted, crying even harder. "He doesn't...he doesn't know how much he's killing me, and I can't...I don't know why it---"

He didn't look at you weirdly or crack a cheeky joke like he usually did, just sat there in silence before speaking up again. "Sweetheart, love is tough. You can't just sit back and relax, and just expect everything to run along smoothly because that isn't how things work. I should know that by now."

He paused for a second. "I know it hurts, but things will get worse before they get better. You'll be okay. You know how I know?"

"How?"

"I know that Steve really cares about you, I knew from the moment you first joined the team. You know I don't really trust that many people, but I'd be willing to make an exception for Cap and I could see it in his eyes that he really cares, so you shouldn't have any reason to cry over him."

"He wouldn't look at me that way, why would he? He doesn't feel the same way!" you exclaimed. "Ugh, boy problems."

"Don't be stupid, sweetheart, he looks at you as if you're his entire world."

You sat there for a few more minutes, silently considering his words.

"Come on now, I think everyone's waiting. They're playing the 100 downstairs, and I know you'd never miss an opportunity to watch that. And you don't want to miss dinner after all, because Wanda and Nat are cooking tonight, so we won't have to eat Pietro's disgusting fried salad. Who came up with that idea? Bleugh."

You smiled weakly, and he patted your shoulder and led you back downstairs. Everyone's eyes turned to you, carefully watching you with your red and watery eyes and nobody dared to say a thing.

You sat down in the empty seat on the couch, which coincidentally, was next to Steve. He didn't ask you what was wrong, just took one look at your trembling figure and gently placed a blanket over you, wrapping an arm around you again.