#nomad steve rogers x rreader

[evanstarff]

Dawn

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Word Count: 1650

Summary: Steve Rogers comes home.

Warnings: A bit of angst that eventuates into fluff.

A/N: This is written for @softhairbarnes​’ amazing 750 writing challenge! Congrats lovely!! ✨ You guys should check out her Masterlist - her blog is also full of pretty things. My prompt was “sunlight” and the reader is adopted.

Masterlist here.

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A quiet history peeled from the corners of the ceiling. It bled through the floral wallpaper and whispered echoes of conversation between past lovers from the walls.

Steve tossed the bag unceremoniously to your couch and it smacked against the cushions. Worn blue and firmly set to the papered character of your cosy apartment. Heavy and pocketed with the weariness of being on the run. Visits to the Golden City were usually full of joy. Peace.

He felt off today.

You sensed the ripple of something unsure in his demeanour. Different from the last time. The shade of concern pressed through your face as you watched him push your door shut with an agile boot.

Steve brushed a gloved hand through dark blonde locks that had grown long and harried as the days gone by. The sigh passed pink and once sweet lips, now laced in something unsettled. Unsure.

Your feet crossed the floor to stand before him and Steve felt the quiet warmth of your smile pass through his chest as you spoke.

“Hey.” He watched your eyes search his own with careful consideration. “I’m gonna go to the store.”

“It’s late,” Finally found his voice as strong, roughened fingers found your own.

“It’s only four in the morning late,” you replied.

You glanced to him when he didn’t take your usual bait. Frowned with lips that pursed and worried in the corners of your usual smirk.

“Hey.” Hands gave his own a squeeze. “You okay?”

His eyes came to rest on yours. Blue and hesitant as if trying to bury away some shadow of uncertainty.

Breaths passed between you both. A procession of unease and contemplation until Steve let go of your hands, turning to his bag and began pulling out clothes. Hooded fleece in grey, roughened jeans, a t-shirt that looked just a touch too small for his broad and hardy form, and a simple baseball cap for good measure.

Steve pulled off the heavy star-spangled shadow from his limbs. Pushed them past a back that muscled through, like currents of an ocean deep and dark. Past hips, then thighs that spoke of too many sprints and not enough direction.

Sitting down on the edge of your couch, you watched him tug on civilian clothes, leaving his boots on. Perhaps he didn't have any other shoes, you realised. Fugitives didn't tend to just walk into a cobblers for repairs, let alone one former captain.

Steve rolled his shoulders. Habitually. A way to ease the tension and memories of the days before. Rubbed his chin now furnished a dirty gold and cloaked down behind his ears to flaxen hair. Gaze drawn across the floor as he tried to simmer the restlessness from his body.

“I have an idea,” you decided at last, sitting up from the couch. “Let's go visit Bucky.”

Steve felt strings of warmth and rapport creep back to his body and touched the corners of his lips.

“Afraid of leaving me alone?” he teased, feeling the words familiar in his mouth as he came closer to you.

You scoffed, though your heart leapt. Felt your eyes narrowed to his own, bright and blue. “It’s only the 84th time you’ve been in my apartment.”

“Only.” Smart-ass.

“And you brought a lick more attitude with you this time, Rogers.” You laughed and it echoed wonderful and sweet in his ears.

“Well, I just got here and we’re already leaving?” Blue eyes beamed bright and full to your own and you felt your chest swell with a warmth that reached your face.

“I haven't seen Bucky for a couple of days,” you pressed on with a smirk. “Better make sure he hasn't been eaten alive by goats.”

Steve exploded with laughter and it softened the prickly edges of your apartment.

“Lead the way.”

You turned to the door, pulling your boots back on and wrapped the tunic around your shoulders. Threw yourself out your apartment door before you could change your mind. Twelve hurried steps down your corridor, a corner then another three down the steps outside to the night. Steve walked a little faster to catch up, boots scuffing the sanded concrete.

Fingers grazed then entwined as the remnants of the night shadowed skin on cheeks. Cool and measured through your hair and in his lungs with the promise of something new.

Steve pulled you close as you both wandered down the waking street. Tucked you into the curve of his arm shaped like you. Brought fingers to his lips and brushed his nose through your hair. The scene of cotton sheets and wildflowers curled comfort through his lungs, warm as the feeling of home.

The familiar thumps and crackles of a market rising for the day echoed through ears. You carved a path to the outskirts of the city’s improbable blend of wood and metal. He adored the structures’ glow beneath the retreating light of the stars. Traced its lines and edges to his mind for a later time handled by charcoal and paper.  

The thunder of hunger made itself known as you glanced up at Steve. Amused eyes at his embarrassed face as he felt the smile meet the curves of his lips.

“Sorry,” he laughed quietly, feeling it ease through his shoulders as his stomach twisted.

“Come,” you chuckled. “Gotta feed the super soldier before we visit the geriatric.”

You pulled away, drawing heat from his broad and steady form toward the market stalls. With hands tucked into fleeced pockets, Steve followed your easy form navigating through the quiet streets.

Hunger grumbled louder as he looked up to see you bounding back to his trailing form.

“Speed up, Rogers,” you smirked. Planted a kiss from pointed toes to his exquisite face as you pressed the offering into his hands. “Aren’t you normally up for a run at this hour?”

Steve narrowed his eyes at you. “Hilarious.” He glanced down at the package seeping warmth through his hands with soft billowed heat.

“What’s this?”

“Rolex,” you told him amidst enthused mouthfuls. Parcelled paper already torn like a toddler ripping open a gift, revealing thin fried bread and its steaming contents. Foil and paper flowered around your fingernails as he watched you chew happily, a tomato painted dash in the corner of your lip. “Consider it breakfast.”

Steve snorted at the vision before him. Messy in ways that made perfect sense and a comfort that fit in all the shadowy parts of his heart.

“What?” It was your turn to narrow your curious eyes.

He only smiled and shook his head with laughing eyes of blue. Brushed a thumb to red in the corner of your mouth and pressed his lips to yours. Soft with the breath of spiced egg melded together with bread. It was hungry and warm through his lungs and into your own.

Steve pulled away too soon. A thumb-licked smirk on his face at the hazy expression in your eyes.

“What,” he shot back, eyes teasing and amusement curling in his lips as he took a bite from his own roll. Felt the familiar warmth of a kebab shop in the secret corners of a battle-blown New York street. Memories of beloved and wearied friends chasing warmth and deprecation ached through his heart, muscle and soul.

He sighed. Eyes closed. Content and felt a quiet sense of acceptance begin to creep into his chest.

“Hey, Rogers.” You rested your hands on his forearm, breaking him from his reverie. Comforting like sunlight finding home in the splendour of the morning sky. “You okay?”

“Sorry,” he apologised for the second time since he arrived. You watched those ever-furrowed lines relax as his eyes rested on yours. Fingers tucked a stray hair behind your ears, bringing heat through your cheeks. “Had a lot on my mind.”

“Take all the time you need.” Your voice was soft and sweet against his palm and it bloomed in his heart.

Steve took a breath. Quiet. Measured. Let it out. Felt his body full and drowned with affection.

You were beautiful and he couldn’t help himself.

His lips were careful on yours. Earnest and sweet, his tongue brushing ever so lightly on yours. You felt the pleasant hum in your throat and in his grin as lips pushed more heated now. Beard brushed deliciously against your lover’s bow, prickly and sweet on your cheeks.

Strong hands threaded through your hair, warm against the skin of your neck and pressed firm behind your head. You felt your body melt into his own, almost breathless. Giggling against his mouth as lips pushed and pulled and your fingers were tangled against the fabric on his broad and steady chest.

You felt drunk and it was everything.

Steve pulled away. Again all too soon. Felt his lips graze your nose, your cheek. A quick one to your lips and then his fingers pulled yours from the fleece of his hoodie. Kissed them ever so sweetly and smiled in the way that utterly melted your heart.

“I see you took my advice,” you breathed at last, eyes laughing as Steve pressed a kiss to your mouth in response.

“Sure did.”

You fell back into step with one another, weaving your way to the edges of the city once again. Found the towering trees to the familiar pathway that led to the clearing you both adored.

The glow of the promised morning sprinkled light to the dirt and pebbled path. Well-trodden and familiar as the strong fingers that now entwined your own. The particular shade of the clearing was the kind you would find in any light. Green and gold and textured like the painted tapestry found only in the soul of your heart.

Sunlight found its path across the field. Sprinkled in golden pink across the field; hues that you could not quite describe, except in the folded parts of your soul. Bucky’s hut came into view and he watched you dart ahead, shards of grass softening in your path.

Steve was home.

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