(A/N: Alright, so here's the deal kiddos. I don't write smut. I'm not anti-smut, I just don't write it. And that's for a variety of reasons including I don't have personal experience. That being said, this chapter is kinda difficult to do without smut. So there are pretty obvious mentions of smutty things, but nothing descriptive. Just giving you a heads up.)

Steve was incredibly stressed out recently.

He would come home every day looking stressed, dark black bags set under his eyes, and you knew he felt even more stressed. You had taken it upon yourself to start making dinner for him every night, giving Mark more time off. Steve said he didn't mind, he had begun to like your food a lot more. It gave him a sense of comfort.

Steve had a very early meeting today, he had warned you about that the night prior. You had woken up, no Steve next to you, feeling slightly nauseous, so you ran to the bathroom and took a moment to throw up. You didn't think much of it, you may have just eaten something weird.

That was until you got a searing cramp in your lower abdomen. It felt like a dozen knives twisting within your flesh, over and over. You groaned at the feeling, assuming no one was there. But of course, Kat came in. "Y/N?" She asked and knocked on the master bathroom door.

"Yeah?" You croaked out, leaning against the toilet, holding your stomach with your arms. Even though you knew it had no effect, you had no clue what else to do.

"Are you alright?" She asked concern laced within her voice. You groaned again, "Can I at least come in?" She asked a moment later.

"Sure," You sighed, taking deep breaths. She walked in, seeing your slumped body and red face.

"Oh sweetheart," She ran over crouching down next to you, placing her hand on your back and running it in circles. Then you got a random wave of heat, breaking out in a heavy sweat. "Do you want me to call Steve?" You shook your head, "I think I may need to-"

"No," You stated adamantly, "He's already stressed enough," You took a deep breath as another cramp seared through your body, "I'm fine. I'll just need some painkillers."

"You're in your heat, aren't you?" She asked. You nodded. "Alright, I know Steve keeps some of his super-high dose pain killers in the gym. I'll go check for them and make sure you can take them. Why don't you take an ice bath? It'll cool you down." You agreed as she helped you up.

She ran out to the gym, as you slumped over to the huge tub Steve had, overlooking the city. You turned on the cool water, stripping all of your clothes beside your undergarments, letting a wave of cool relief wash over you.

Kat came back in, confirming you could take two of his high dosage pills every 12 hours. You agreed as she placed two down on the counter along with a glass of water. You thanked her before she left.

You anxiously swallowed the small blue tablets with the water, before completely stripping and getting in the tub. You sighed at the relaxing feeling of the cool water hitting your skin. You placed your head back, letting yourself relax for quite a few minutes.

A few minutes turned into an hour, and you finally decided it was probably time to get out. You quickly rubbed yourself with a towel and went to your closet finding a sports bra and sports shorts, putting those on. You would rather be bare, but that wasn't necessarily acceptable you thought.

So you ended up laying on the bed all day, setting the temperature to 60 degrees, and sitting on the AC vent when you got too hot. The cramps slightly subsided to a manageable amount, but the heat waves and nausea didn't. You managed to grab one of Steve's shirts too and took his side of the bed. It all smelled like him, which actually made most of the cramps a little better.

So hours went on while you were in this state. You hadn't really eaten, only drank some cold water. When Steve got home at five, you didn't even hear him, you could smell him. And damn did it drive you wild.

Little did you know that Steve smelled you too the moment that he walked in. He immediately set his stuff down, jogging to your bedroom knowing that is where you most likely resided. Of course, he was right. Your smell became more and more prominent each step he took, it was intoxicating and taking him over.

He had the same effect on you. You could tell he was getting closer solely on his smell, which grew. Then you heard the door open, and there was Steve in his typical suit.

You became dizzy quite quickly, sitting up but almost falling right back down as his smell took over you. At that moment, you knew the battle between your body and its instincts, and your mind had begun. "Steve?" You groaned.

"Omega," he said and sat next to you. He was physically preventing himself from pouncing you at the moment and taking you, but you two had never had sex before, and he didn't want to do it without your consent.

Meanwhile, the war raging between your body and mind continued. Your body wanted Steve right there with you, helping you through this and taking over you. However, your mind and common sense rushed in with the fact that you were a virgin and didn't want to give up that part of you during your heat. You wanted it to be special. "What can I do?" Steve asked sympathetically. You groaned again.

"Just," You began. Your mind and body continued fighting until another large cramp hit you, and you couldn't control anything. "I need you."

"D-doll," He began, looking quite nervous, "I-I don't think that's a good idea,"

"Alpha," You let out. Steve lightly growled, trying to contain himself.

"I don't think we should." He finally sighed.

"Steve?" You began and he looked at you, "Would now be a," You had to stop and gasp as another cramp hit you, "A bad time to tell you I'm a virgin?" He looked up at you with shock, his eyes going wide.

"Y-you've never had sex?" He asked you lightly. You barely nodded, but he understood. "Okay," he sighed, worried, and frustrated. Not at you, but more with your heat.

"Please Alpha," You whined again. He too was having a mental battle, but he wouldn't dare do anything with you. Your heat made you partially delusional, he knew it wasn't you, it was your desperation.

Steve's mind was battling what he needed to do. All he knew was he didn't want to do anything too much with you. Although he thought you were the most gorgeous thing he had ever seen and smelled even better, his mind was really trying to quite down his instincts, which was much more difficult then it seemed. "Please," You whined again, as small tears began tracing down your face out of pain. Steve sighed, giving in, but not completely of course.

- Brief-time skip because I don't do smut-

Steve managed to be just as worn out like you, even though he didn't do more than use his fingers. He washed his hands and left your sleeping and tired body on the bed, lightly smiling to himself before going to his personal study to do some work.

You woke up feeling much better, to say the least. Your temperatures had lowered since your body was now satisfied. You replayed the intimacy between you and Steve since it was the first time, lightly smiling. You could still feel his light kisses over you, and how sweet and respectful he was. Then you got a sudden realization, causing your anxiety to spike. Wait, you thought, did we do anything more?

You decided to get up, placing your sports bra and shorts back on, and going to Steve's study. Your legs felt somewhat weak, making it a slight challenge to even walk down a few hallways and stairs. But you eventually made it there, opening the large oak doors to find Steve carefully looking over numerous papers. He heard you come in, more importantly, smelled you, despite your effort to be quiet and not disturb him. "Hey doll," he looked up and lightly smiled for a brief moment.

"Hey babe," You walked over to where he sat in the large leather armchair, getting behind him and wrapping your arms over his chest, giving him a kiss on the head. His smell relaxed you even more since your heat had started, and quite honestly you wanted to just be attached to him at every moment.

"Feeling better?" he asked and gently rubbed your hand, not looking up from his work.

"A lot," You lightly smiled, "Thank you." You decided to walk over to one of the couches placed on the edge of the study, under countless oak bookshelves of more hardcover books. "Also, Steve?" You asked and he hummed in response, once again focused on the papers, skimming over the sentences line for line with a ballpoint pen. "We didn't do it right?" He looked up for a moment, one eyebrow raised, obviously wanting you to clarify. "We didn't have sex, did we?"

"No," he said and sighed, "I didn't want to, um-" He wasn't sure what to say.

"No no, I get it," You lightly smiled, "Thank you for, um, respecting me." You said, looking down and running your finger lightly through your hair.

"You shouldn't be thanking me for that," he lightly chuckled, "I didn't want to push you when you weren't 100 percent there." You nodded understanding what he meant.

Steve would be lying if he said he didn't enjoy it too. He thought you were beautiful, to begin with, but in your instinct state, you were driving him crazy. He would have done anything for you then and there. "So what do you want for dinner, Sweetheart?" He asked you, still studying the papers.

"I was going to make steak but-"

"Don't worry," Steve interrupted, "You're tired and it's completely understandable. I was thinking maybe takeout?" You nodded in agreement. "What type?" He asked.

"We haven't done Chinese in a while."

"Then Chinese it is." He lightly smiled, "I'm going to finish this up. I'll order in 15 and then I'll be out in the living room." Steve didn't ask you what you wanted, he had made an effort to memorize every order from every take out place you two would go to, which he managed to do. You nodded and got up, going to his chair and giving him a quick kiss before going to grab your book, and then into the living room.

You curled up, leaning on one of the armrests of his large leather couches, the one facing the TV. You had grabbed one of the blankets from a spare closet in your bedroom, which smelled like Steve, wrapping yourself in it, and relaxing.

Just like he promised, Steve was in about 20 minutes later, greeting you and sitting down next to you. You placed your book down on the coffee table and lightly smiled at him. "So, what do you want to watch tonight?" He asked. When you and he had lazy nights, or sick nights (kind of like tonight), the two of you would watch a show or movie and eat dinner, in a very relaxed and low key manner.

"Cooking shows?" You smirked at him. Steve smiled and sighed, as you used cooking shows to begin and educate him on how to cook.

Recently, if Steve came home early, you would have him assist you with dinner, the small things of course. Like how to cook a potato or pasta, how to chop vegetables and sautee them. Steve was never one to cook before you, but now you practically forced him to. He wouldn't admit it, but he truly didn't mind it. He secretly loved helping you but most importantly watching you cook and see how good you were at it.

"Fine," He reluctantly said. Just like with the physical act, he secretly liked watching these cooking competition shows, and he couldn't help but laugh when you would start yelling about how "stupid" or "uneducated" the cooks were when they decided to make strange creations.

"Okay but seriously," You asked and took a bite of your chicken, "Why would you mix Dulce de Leche cake and blueberry? Those two things don't go together." You ranted at the TV and Steve let out a small chuckle. You looked over at him and eyed him, "It's not funny Steve."

"The actual thing isn't funny," he clarified and took a swig of his beer out of the bottle, "Your reaction is funny."

"Shut up." You said and threw your napkin at him. He rolled his eyes and smirked some more. Your gaze went back to focusing on the TV, however, Steve decided to take his time to look at you, pondering everything.

Specifically, how much you had changed over the last two months. You had truly opened up, from the first day being clumsy and flinching at him, to now, today being the first time he was intimate with you. He truly had hope for this relationship, and he mentally gave himself a pat on the back for never giving you up. He couldn't care less about the money he spent on you, he knew you were his soulmate, and he would give up everything it meant he got to be with you.

"Don't you know it's rude to stare?" You smarted him, looking to where he was staring. He lightly laughed.

"Sorry," he sighed.

"No, it's fine," You admitted, "You're a pretty nice sight to look at too." He smiled.

"I was thinking," he took a bite of his food out of the small white plastic container, "Maybe we could go visit your family in two weeks." Your gaze shot to him, eyes going wide.

"Really?" You asked, your face lighting up.

"Yeah, of course." He took another bite of food.

"I just," You began, he turned his attention to you, "I don't know their numbers or anything, and that worries me because I would at least like to talk to them first."

"About that," Steve continued, "My people did some research for me, found all their numbers and their address. I have a file for you to look over after dinner, you can call them then if you'd like."

"No way." You nearly gasped, "You did that?" He nodded, "For me?" He nodded again. He briefly put his food down and within that time frame, you practically jumped on him giving him a kiss. He was slightly shocked at first, before leaning into it and smiling slightly. "You're the best boyfriend ever." You smiled and straddled his lap.

"So we're boyfriend and girlfriend now?" He smirked, holding your hips in his large hands. You gave him another long kiss, answering his question pretty clearly, the answer being yes, of course.

You and Steve cleaned up, going to his study immediately after, a huge grin plastered on your face. He handed you the file, letting you look through it. Your parents hadn't moved, their phone numbers printed on the pages, along with the home phone. And your sister's and brother's numbers too.

You sat out on the large patio outside, in one of the comfortable armchairs with cushions overlooking the city, the cool breeze slightly messing with your hair. You punched in the numbers on your phone, taking a deep and anxious breath before pressing the small green phone button at the bottom.

You put the piece of glass and metal against your ear, resting on your cheek, as the ringing started. It rang exactly three times, before someone picked up, someone you identified as your mom through her soothing voice, which you hadn't heard in the eight years since you were in The Compound. "Hello?" She answered. You took a few seconds as tears accumulated in your eyes.

"Mom?"