Chris Evans/Sebastian Stan Characters One-Shots and Imagines

Missing Pearls (S.R.)

Steve and I could never afford much. We could pay our bills, eat, and still had some spare change to spend on some luxuries, but they were numbered. For Steve, this was never a problem considering, well, he grew up during the Great Depression. However, both my parents were very, very wealthy.

I grew up lucky, and I thank God for that every day I can. I lived in practically a mansion in upstate New York, and I had the finer things in life. Buying expensive clothing, and new jewelry and great experiences came at the simple price of getting good grades for me, which I always achieved. My parents took great pride in calling me theirs, and eventually, I ended up getting a higher up job as an agent for the FBI, but I was soon transferred to SHIELD because their intelligence force needed me.

That was where I met the Star-Spangled Man, aka my lover. I knew about his story, they published it in middle school and high school textbooks. But what they books don't tell you is that he is one of the most compassionate, caring people in life. Or at least Steve Rogers is. Captain America, not so much.

At first, Steve was not my biggest fan. I tried to help him fit into the modern world through what people like to call my "unconditional kindness and willingness to help", but he soon figured out about my "easy" childhood and thought I got to where I was from my parents.

It hurt to hear someone say that. It wasn't like I hadn't heard it before but someone as well respected as he was nearly insulting me like that? I took a real hit. It wasn't until one of my closest friends Nat (Natalia Romanoff as you might know her) explained that just because your wealthy, doesn't mean your life is easy.

Of course, there are expectations and ones that can't be met sometimes. My parents still weren't necessarily happy with my decision to become an agent. It didn't really fit the luxury life they wanted me to have.

"Stevie?" I asked from our closet as I shuffled through my jewelry box.

"Yes, doll?"

"Do you know where my pearls went?"

"No," He responded honestly, "Need help finding them?" I sighed. Steve had saved up quite a bit to get me a gorgeous pearl necklace for Christmas last year that I cherished with lots of love. I know how much a set of elegant pearls like the ones he got me are, and trust me, they're not cheap.

I sighed, "No love, it's fine. I'll find them later." I said plopping on the bed next to him and cuddling into his side as he took his arm and wrapped it around me. I was in a semi-tight little black dress (the tightest I could go with my big hips), and Steve in his usual plaid and khakis because yes, it was another one of Tony's parties. We walked in hand in hand into the party and there we went and talked around. Eventually, as I was talking to Nat and Pepper, Steve went to excuse himself to go talk to Sam.

After a grueling 2 hours of us saying hellos and engaging in small talk we finally departed back to our place. Once we got there I began my search for the missing pearls. Now, you may be thinking, that, of course, I'm selfish and that's all I care about. But Steve worked his ass off for those so I feel obligated to find them because of how hard he worked and saved for them. After a good 30 minutes of searching, Steve was already in sweats with a white shirt while I continued my search. "Are you still looking doll?" He asked emerging from our room and leaning his body on the door." I nodded in response while looking under the couch cushions for the fifth time. "Love, go clean up. I'll find them."

"But-" I started.

"Go take a shower. Please? At least for your sanity?" I nodded and made my way into the bathroom. After a long, much needed hot shower I changed into sweats and a t-shirt and went back out to see Steve responding to emails on his phone.

"Did you find them?" I asked hopefully. He held them up and gave a light smile. "Thank you thank you thank you!" I said running over, hugging and kissing him, and then taking the pearls. "Where were they?"

"Copper got a hold of them and hid them in his bed." He said looking over at our 3-year-old golden retriever, who had a look of guilt on his face. Well, technically he's mine, but Steve's forced to like him because he's basically my child.

"Cop didn't mean it," I said taking the defense of the dog.

"Mhm." He responded with sarcastically.