50 Shades Of Steve Rogers

Chapter 9

"'I like rough sex Steve,'" (y/n) had said. Well what does that even mean?
He shook his head and tried to remember all the discussions and wisecracks the guys would make about their own sex lives. While he tried not to listen, his curiosity usually won out, but the things he heard from Thor, Tony, most of all Bucky and Sam would sometimes have his mouth hanging open in shock. It's not that he wasn't curious, it's just he had no idea what to even do, and loved worshipping her, not treating her like some animal, or child.

A horn honked behind him, making him jump and shift uncomfortably in his seat as his body tingled against his clothes. He needed to get home, he had to talk to his wife, before their situation got worse.

I turned off my phone as I grabbed a bag and began packing it with clothes and toiletries. I couldn't believe I was stupid enough to do...
Looking back at our conversation, I wanted to kick myself. I just told one of the most moral men in America to..., and uttered the word vanilla, as some derogatory term, like some stupid ass. I'd probably ruined ice cream and milkshakes for both of us.
I needed to get out of here, and really think about what I was asking of him. It didn't take a rocket scientist to see how uncomfortable our conversation made him, but if we really believed we could talk about anything, then, this should be one of them, regardless how uncomfortable it was.
A dark thought drifted through my mind, as my stomach heaved.
Maybe we weren't as invested in each other as we thought we were?
Maybe what we thought was a happy marriage was just..something else?
I shook my head at the thought, and focused on packing.

"Captain Rogers has now called three times, and you have four texts, shall I read the texts for you, and your hair brush is in the drawer on the left side?" Friday said quickly, "are you alright?"
"Not really, and thank you Friday, but no, no texts or phone calls, that'll be all today," I declared, wiping the last few tears away and slipping on my pack and grabbing my helmet, "wait?"
"Yes ma'am?" She replied.
I looked around our home, beginning to question leaving for a few days. I wasn't one to leave during an argument, gotta have the last word kind of chick, but I just sighed and shook my shoulders. No, a few days away is exactly what I needed, just to center myself and relax, and maybe Steve needed it too, especially now.

"Can you let Steve know I'll be gone for a few days, but I'll be back. I just need.. need a few days alone to cool off, and reiterate the fact that I want to be alone, please, Friday," I ordered shakily, "and don't tell him where I'm going, I'm turning my GPS off, I'll just text him later." 
I didn't want to face Steve right now, regardless of what he had to say. The stress and fear of feeling like I did, on top of telling him what I wanted, had finally just taken its toll, and I needed some time to calm down before my anger got the best of me.
I made myself promise to text Steve later when I get to the cabin, it was only an hour or so away in upstate New York.

"Of course (y/n)," Friday said.

I slipped out the door and jumped up on the bike we shared, heading away from here.

"(Y/n)?!" Steve shouted, as he opened the front door of their home, but he walked into an empty living room and kitchen, "honey?" He meandered, upstairs towards their bedroom and took in the mess she had made. Clothes layed scattered everywhere, drawers left open, and most of her toiletries were gone from their bathroom. Her large duffel bag was gone from the large walk-in closet, along with the small gun she kept in the nightstand.
The realization hit Steve like a ton of bricks, she was gone.