#steve rogers x gn!reader

[just-another-blog-of-fluff]

Hangry

Word count: ~2,000

Pairing: Steve x reader and Bucky (platonic), no pronouns used

Warnings: Just a lot of fluff. Mild cursing.

It's been a year and a half since my last posted works! I'm VERY out of practice 😅 I'm trying to work on some smaller prompts on my list while I get myself back into writing and continue working on the Loki blip in the universe prompt. It's not my best, but I hope you enjoy in any case!

This was based on a Prompt for Steve x reader as well as a prompt where reader and Bucky bug Steve while he's making a public appearance.

“Tell us, Captain, sir - how did the Avengers manage to track down the villain’s hideout this time?”

“Well, good sir - we have state-of-the-art technology that allows us to track electronic signals from thousands of miles away…”

“Ugh, he is such a ham!” you muttered to Bucky under your breath as you observed Steve from a distance. “We’re never going to make it to the store if he keeps stopping every time a reporter tries to chat him up!”

“Steve can’t resist bragging about us,” Bucky chided, nudging you with his elbow.

“Yeah, well… some of us are hungry!”

You huffed and folded your arms across your chest in annoyance, trying to catch the reporter’s eye with your scowling face, but she was far too enamored by the star-spangled captain to pay you any mind. How had a simple grocery run for ice cream turned into a twenty-minute interview with the press??

“I swear, I’m gonna go drag him away from that reporter by the ear if he doesn’t stop talking in the next 60 seconds,” you grumbled.

“Why do that when we can mess with him instead?”

You turned to look at Bucky, who had a mischievous gleam in his eyes.

“Go on…”

He smirked, shooting you a wink. “Watch and learn.”

You watched silently as Bucky meandered casually toward where Steve stood speaking with the reporter and her photographer. Steve was none the wiser to his friend approaching from behind.

“… but the serum isn’t the only thing that makes us heroes. It takes a whole load of grit and determina-HAY-tion-!”

Steve flinched as his best friend subtly reached up and pinched his side mid-sentence, effectively silencing him. The captain recovered quickly, though, chuckling nonchalantly as he flashed Bucky a look. He continued on with his sentence after that, refusing to acknowledge what just happened.

“Wait - Steve is ticklish??” you whispered incredulously as Bucky returned to your side.

“Very. Why does that surprise you?”

“I don’t know, I guess I just assumed the serum eliminated weaknesses like that.”

Bucky chuckled. “Nah - if anything it made it worse.”

“Oh-ho, I’ve got to try this for myself!”

You quietly paced up behind the blabbing soldier, pretending you were casually walking past to avoid drawing attention from passerby. As you stepped by him, you reached out and swiftly dug your fingertips into his ribs for less than a second. Steve choked on his words and whipped his head around instinctively. You ducked out of his field of vision and prodded his other side.

“Excuse me,” Steve requested politely, turning around as nonchalantly as possible to find you standing behind him with a guilty grin on your face. “Can I help you?”

“I just came to remind you that we have somewhere we have to be,” you stated sweetly.

“Yes, but it isn’t urgent,” he muttered.

“Oh, I think you’ll find it to be very urgent, actually,” you whispered, shooting him a cheeky wink. With a long, drawn-out sigh, Steve turned to the reporter.

“My apologies, ma’am. Duty calls.”

You saw Bucky clap a hand over his mouth and nose to cover the snort that burst from his nares. Trying hard not to openly roll your eyes in front of the reporter, you nodded in the direction of the grocery store and began marching purposefully toward your destination, with Steve following in your wake.

“You two are infuriating,” Steve grumbled once you were out of earshot from the reporter.

“Excuse me - I just want to go get my ice cream and head back home to eat it,” you countered. “You’re the one who decided to schmooze with the first person who asked you about your superpowers.”

“I’m just trying to maintain good public relations. Maybe you should try it sometime.”

“Ugh, no. I hate talking about myself.”

The three of you bickered amicably the entire way to the store. It hadn’t ended by the time you’d made it back to the tower kitchen and dropped your grocery bags on the counter.

“I’m just saying - it wouldn’t kill you to wear a hat or something to hide your face from reporters when we’re just trying to go to the store,” you griped, shrugging your sweatshirt off your shoulders and hanging it on the back of one of the kitchen stools.

“It wouldn’t kill you to try to be friendly to strangers every once in a while,” Steve retorted.

“Excuse me - I am a very friendly person! I’m just selective about it.”

“Friendly as an angry porcupine, sure.”

You gasped indignantly. “Are you saying I’m sharp with people??”

“You’re just a little… prickly.”

“Ooh, now that’s an insult,” Bucky hummed sarcastically.

“You’re just as bad, you know. Forget porcupines - you’re like a venomous sea urchin or something,” Steve shot back at his friend. You snorted.

“Steve… you’ve really got to work on your teasing skills,” you chuckled. “A ‘sea urchin?’ Really?”

“I could just take your ice cream”

You narrowed your eyes. “Don’t you dare.”

Steve held your gaze for a moment, eyes darting briefly to the bag on the counter between you with the ice cream inside. You lunged for the bag handle, but Steve predicted your move, snatching it out of your reach before you could get a hand on it.

“Damnit, Steve!! Give it back!” you whined, rounding the counter to swipe for the grocery bag. He turned his back to you, maintaining a barrier between you and the prize. “Bucky! Help me out here!”

“Nah, this is pretty funny to watch,” Bucky chuckled, snickering as you swatted at Steve’s arm.

“Yeah but your ice cream is in there too!”

Bucky sighed. “You make a fair point. Steve, buddy, give it back.”

Steve snorted. “You’ve been just as much a pain in my rear today! Why would I give it back to you either?”

You gasped dramatically, catching Bucky’s eye. “Are you gonna let him talk to you like that?”

“‘Course not!”

Without warning, Bucky lunged at his super soldier friend, tackling him to the floor. The bag of ice cream slipped from Steve’s grasp in his surprise, which you quickly snatched up before he could regain the wherewithal to take it back. With a triumphant shout, you tore the cover off your pint of ice cream and dug a spoon out of the drawer, swiping a scoop off the top layer and shoving it in your mouth with a contented sigh.

“Mm… finawwy,” you mumbled with your mouth full. Swallowing, you pointed your spoon accusatorially at Steve where he was currently trying to shove Bucky off himself. “You know, you’ve been a pain in my rear all day. You deserved this - it’s nice to see someone teaching you a lesson.”

“You two are pains in my rear every day!” Steve huffed as he grasped at Bucky’s shoulders and pushed.

“You did not just say that!” you gasped dramatically.

“Yeah, how dare you!” Bucky added, pinching at Steve’s side for emphasis.

“Bahah- Bucky, don’t start this,” Steve warned as he grasped his friend’s wrists to still his hands.

“Ooh! Wait!” You set your ice cream and spoon down on the counter beside you. “I want a go! Bucky, hold him there for a minute.”

“Whahat??” Steve laughed in surprise, a nervous edge to his voice.

“Sure!” Bucky offered, ignoring his friend’s protests as he maneuvered his wrists from Steve’s grasp and swiftly pinned his arms to the floor a few inches from his sides. “Quick, before he gets free!”

"On it!" You crouched down beside the super soldiers as Steve tugged against Bucky's grip. Without waiting to listen to Steve's protests any further, you began to scribble your fingertips into his exposed sides and ribs rapidly. You heard a thump behind you as Steve kicked his heel against the floor in protest, now pulling more frantically to escape his best friend's hold.

"HA-HEHEY! Cut it ohout!!"

"Nah. I deserve a little reward for tolerating you all day," you snickered, prodding at his belly. "Hey, Buck - where should I get him next?"

"Ohh, definitely under his arms," he suggested with a smirk. You pinched your way up his ribcage before slotting your hands into the narrow space between his biceps and his upper ribs. Bucky adjusted his grip to pry his friend's arms away from his sides as he attempted to clamp them down to limit the space under his arms.

"BUCKY!! Let me go-HO-HO this I-HI-INSTANT!" Steve demanded.

"No can do, buddy. I'm enjoying watching you get taken down a peg."

"DAHAMNIT BAHARNES!!"

"Oof, language Steve!" you teased, digging your fingers into the soft spot under his arms. "Where else is he ticklish?"

"The spot on his stomach right under his ribs - that'll really get him good." Steve nearly managed to slip his wrist from Bucky's grasp, but he quickly shifted his grip once again. "Better do it quick - I can't hold him much longer."

"Say no more." You pulled your hands free from under Steve's arms and danced your fingertips across the muscle-clad skin of his abdomen just under his ribcage as Bucky suggested. He threw his head back with a heavy stream of laughter at your touch, arching his back against the floor in desperation. It was only another moment before he finally succeeded in escaping Bucky's grasp.

Steve sat up swiftly, a playful but menacing gleam in his eye as his gaze immediately landed on you.

"Oh-ho, shit!" You scrambled to get to your feet to make your escape, groaning defeatedly when you felt a strong set of arms wrap around your waist and yank you backward.

“You really think I’d let you get away with that?” Steve asked rhetorically as he tightened his arms around your midsection to hold you in place.

“W-wait, Steve, we can- ahaha nohoho!” Your protests were cut short as Steve’s fingers kneaded into your sides. “Bucky! Hehehelp!!”

“Nuh-uh. You’re on your own, my friend.” The infuriatingly unhelpful super soldier waltzed over to the counter to retrieve his ice cream, planting himself atop the countertop and digging in while observing the two of you wrestling on the floor below.

“USELEHESS!!” you cried, attempting futilely to pry Steve’s hands off your sides.

“Nice try. You should know better than to mess with me by now,” Steve teased. He loosened his grip slightly to scratch at your belly. A rumbling laugh erupted in his chest when you screeched in protest and doubled over, suddenly much more frantic. “Oh, what’s this?”

“DAHAMNIT STE-HEE-HEVE!” Your grip on his hands was far too weak to even budge them now - not that you’d had any hope of succeeding before your muscles had weakened from his tickling. You leaned more heavily into him as you succumbed to laughter. He responded by lowering you down to lay on the floor beside him, freeing both hands to dart randomly around your sides and stomach. Weakly, you tapped your palm on the floor beside you in surrender. Steve threw in a few more exceedingly ticklish light scratches along your belly before relenting in his revenge.

“That’ll teach you,” he teased with a grin, offering you a hand to help you off the ground. You grasped your abdominal muscles that were now aching from laughter.

“I-hi… I’ll probably still mess with you,” you admitted breathlessly. Steve made a noise of protest in his throat and reached over to pinch your side, but you swatted his hand away. “Noho more! You’ll kill me!”

“So dramatic.” He rolled his eyes. “Here - here’s your ice cream. Hope it melted while you were tormenting me.”

“Harsh!” You snatched it from his hand and stuck out your tongue, then turned to look at Bucky. "And you - you were zero help, thank you."

"Hey! I held him down for you! I was very helpful, in my personal opinion."

The three of you went right back to your friendly bickering session, as though nothing had happened. Any outside might wonder how you could all be friends, but you wouldn't have it any other way.

[ttyls]

im so upset right now i cant even speak 😣😭his nervous hands :(( he's so scared and lonely :((((

gif frm @avengerscompound

noooooo devastated nervous anxious stevieeee 😥😢 when i think about the man out of time deleted scene, i could cry for a million years 😭 we have to comfort him!!!! we have to wrap him in love, tenderness, and give him something to live for!!!! 😖

Anew

pairing: Steve Rogers x reader

word count: 394

warnings: none, but also fresh-out-of-the-ice sad Steve :-(

He looks so sad, almost like you that time you actually cried on this train. Nobody paid attention to you of course, but you still inwardly cringe when the memory finds you. He's rubbing his hands together like he’s trying to soothe himself.

This man seems like he’s strong enough to hold back until he goes home, but you feel so bad for him, bad enough to hand him a metaphorical tissue.

“Umm… excuse me, are you lost?”

He turns his head towards you, and his eyes widen ever so slightly when he figures out you’re addressing him. You ask again, “Are you lost? Do you need any help?”

His lips part a little to speak, but then he stops. He looks like he doesn’t even know where to begin answering your questions. Something about him makes you want to help, so you continue talking. “If you don’t know where to go or when you need to get off the train, I could help you.”

He nods in acknowledgment of your offer. “I… uh, thank you. My stop is coming up soon,” his voice trails off. He looks down at his lap where his hands are still clasped together. “I’m-... I’m new here,” he admits. His every word is crammed with nervousness and hesitation. His eyes move back up to yours and you hope your facial expression is properly conveying the empathy you feel for him. Maybe he’s from somewhere far away with fewer people and a different pace of life.

“This city does move very fast, but you’ll find your footing soon,” you respond. Trying your best to reassure him, you add, “If you’ve made it this far, there’s definitely something here for you.”

His eyes are now the color of gratitude and his mouth lifts into a small smile. “Thank you. I appreciate your words.” Lowering his voice, he continues, “I’ve had a hard time… adjusting, and I just-... I really needed to hear that.”

Thankfulness is written all over his face, and knowing you told him the right thing makes your heart sing. Any more of this and it might be the second time you cry on this train.

He brings his hand out for a handshake and introduces himself as Steve. You shake while giving him your name, and he says, “I’m glad to meet you.” You think so, too.

[ronearoundblindly]

Steve Rogers, number 4, a kiss where it hurts (imagine him making it stop hurting) xxx

*no pairing listed but could work in Fools Rush In, It Had To Be You, Autumn Is Healing, Threadbare, or as a stand alone. While those series do specify female readers, this is written gender neutral. He calls you 'sweetheart' one time.

A Dark Day and A Bright Night, one of my Valentine's Fics of 2024

Warning only for description of a bad mental health time. (I know not everyone experiences this in the same way, but I tried to cover the gist and focus on Steve's comfort of you.) Otherwise, just sweet, caring fluff! WC 1781

There are invisible barriers everywhere, and they stop no one but you.

No one else can hear the muddled whispers of what else you could have done, what more you should have accomplished, how disappointing it is that anything took so long.

You can’t do any better. You can’t go any farther. There’s a line in the sand no one can see. Sometimes, no one can see you.

Nothing matches up. Work fast-forwards around you in chaos while you slog through, treading water with all the energy of someone who has been out at sea alone for days and days. You grow so tired.

There are moments you power through, mind racing to gain lost ground on an endless, looped track. You grow so tired, and it’s never just one thing. It’s water and sand and nothing all at once, vast forces beyond your control.

What else? What more? Why so long?

There are barriers no one else can see, and it’s not their fault because it doesn’t match up. We move through life at different paces. We experience different struggles. We are stopped by different forces.

“How was work?” Steve asks, a chipper smile on his face as he places dinner in front of you.

“Fine.” There are no other words.

“Really? Seems the project is right on schedule, thanks to you.”

You see him pause before he takes his first bite, and rush to pick up your fork, knowing it’s best to participate, knowing the barriers may be invisible but effort is not.

He eats his mouthful, and you stare.

Dinner isn’t a line in the sand, but it feels like one, another interaction you’ll be disappointing in, another fear you can’t explain.

“Not my best work, but it got done,” you manage, mechanically feeding yourself, showing the effort, making a show of the effort. “How was your day?”

It’s a flat question. The response is muddled by water and wind and doubt.

Why can’t you focus? Why can’t you do better for him? Why does he stay?

Steve can’t see any of it. He can’t get to you because there’s no one place you’re trapped in.

You do the dishes. You watch TV. You start your bedtime ritual, and you’ve participated as little—and as much—as possible because treading water is lonely. You grow so tired.

Tomorrow could be better. You can do better tomorrow. It’ll take effort.

Tomorrow you’ll work harder and you’ll be less afraid. But that’s what you thought the last time you were stuck. That’s what you think each time you find a line in the sand.

You stare at your reflection, still treading, still scared, still misaligned.

“Did you hear me?” Steve loosely holds you with his palm on your hip. Standing behind you, face sullen in the mirror, he asks where you’re hurting.

To Steve, there has to be a solution. Each mission must have a goal.

You spit, rinse, and put your toothbrush in the holder.

“Just tired.” That’s the sand he cannot see.

“Seems like more than ‘just tired,’” he huffs, unsatisfied, and turns you toward him. “Tell me.”

“It’s nothing you can help with.” That’s the water he cannot navigate.

You’re on your own.

He smirks humorlessly. “That’s never stopped me before.”

But you don’t have the words. All that comes out is “my head.”

“Headache?” He reaches for the medicine cabinet. “You need some—“

You shake your physically fine skull. “No. It’s not a headache.”

Steve’s face…changes in a way you’ve never seen before. You expected confusion, perhaps pity, but this is something all-together reminiscent. His eyes dart around the bathroom like he’s taking inventory, and for the first time today you aren’t the most distracted person in the room.

Then he returns to you.

“I think I’d like a nice bath. Will you join me?”

He sets it all up, using the best smelling bubbles, setting out the softest towels, and inviting you back into the little spa he created by handing you a lovely chocolate.

When you try to refuse because you’ve already brushed your teeth, he replies, “live dangerously,” and pops a bonbon for himself.

Hopefully, it is dark enough for Steve to miss the tears in your eyes.

He lets you settle in the water against him, playing by splashing warmth over the parts not submerged. He kisses your shoulders and neck, the back of your head. Steve keeps himself attached by the lips, breathing you in but feeling so far away. Your mind wanders to nowhere, thinking nothing.

“Feels good—I mean, bett—feels okay, yeah?”

He suds up his hands and washes a bit of you, but your muscles are tight and curled.

You’re tucked into yourself, small as can be.

“Can you try to relax for me, sweetheart? Can you let yourself float?”

The tub works for a guy Steve’s size. There’s a little space but not enough to stretch out completely.

The tension in your body is slow to release. You manage to let your arms, knees, and feet peak through the bubble clouds.

Steve nudges, “and your neck?”

You didn’t realize you were holding it up.

There is infinite space to lay flat in your endless sea. Floating offers a respite, a view of the sky, the same sky blanketing your beach.

Invisible barriers at least spare the scenery.

You and Steve watch the fragrant foam burst for a while. It takes you much longer to truly relax back into Steve. The quiet of the bath drowns you with the noise in your head.

What else? What more? Why so slow?

It’s never just one thing. It is all things, all at once, and nothing at all. All of the elements to survival and understanding are there if you just focus your attention, if you just put in the effort, but you are so tired.

Steve wraps you in his arms to press you deeper into his chest.

“Sometimes my ma would burn dinner,” he starts quietly, voice rough from holding back all his questions you can’t answer, “and we would scramble around, combing the cupboards. We’d make the oddest meals out of bits and bobs. Maybe half of it, we should’a never touched, but we did what we had to. Ya know what? Those were some of the best times. We did the best we could with what we had—sometimes less—and that’s what made her so amazing. On what she probably considered her worst days,” Steve kisses behind your ear, “I admired her the most. Formed some of the best memories.”

“Let me guess. Because she smiled the whole way through?”

“Nah,” he muses, chuckling enough to shake you in the water, “she threw a pan once. Loosened the door of the stove she slammed it shut so hard. She cried usually until we were sat down eating. Always tried to give me the most food because I was so small… 

“I made it a game. I only took a bite if she did. Win-win.” 

He stays quiet for a beat, assured you’re hearing him.

“You’re not ruining anything by crying,” he says solidly, almost loud in the confines of the bathroom. “Good things can still happen. You still did good today.”

He continues. He details little things he admires about you; how hard you work for yourself, for him, he notices all that. He wants you to see what he sees.

There’s no barrier stopping him.

The water turns tepid, and Steve gets out first to ready a towel for you. There’s a difference between him treating you like a china doll and his doll. His doll is not breakable. He isn’t gentle because you are fragile; he does it to preserve you for the next day, and the next. Steve refuses to place any more burden on you than already falls.

He’s right there, strong, noble, and determined with forces working against him.

He’s scared and he doesn’t understand. He can’t fight. He has to scramble to catch up, to change plans, to make a meal out of nothing, to turn nothing into something. He doesn’t understand why he’s in a different sea, or why he can’t get to you standing on the same damn beach. His hand is right there on the barrier, but his shouts are muddled.

It’s not fair, and it never will be.

He physically lifts you up, wrapped in a plush bath sheet, his hug strong enough to thump against that clear wall that springs from your line in the sand.

That’s when you realize the barrier isn’t impenetrable. You can still see the scenery. You can still hear muddled sounds.

Some of his voice gets through. Sunlight and warmth get through. The water still buoys you up.

If there are directions to go, there are paths to take.

If there are ways in, there are ways out. 

There are invisible barriers everywhere, but they don’t stop Steve from being there for you.

One more chocolate. One more brush of your teeth. You trade the fluffy wrap of a towel with the cozy wrap of a t-shirt, and he makes sure you’re comfortable.

A simple goodnight kiss alone might tip you over into exhausted euphoria, but Steve is not that kind of simple.

He props himself up on an elbow and rolls you onto your back.

Kissing your right temple, he whispers, “I love you.” Kissing your left temple, he confesses, “I love your voice,” the peak of your forehead, “I love your spirit,” between your eyebrows, just above one ear, and the other.

“Miss you when I’m not here. Miss you when you’re not here. I miss you even in my dreams.”

Then, and only then, do you get that simple kiss goodnight. His soft lips melding to yours for a long, soothing moment before you two drift off to sleep.

When you dream of a beach and an ocean and nothing at all, you miss him, too. You remember his presence, and the truth becomes as clear as the sky above.

There are pieces of you to love. You are a loved thing. You are light and heat and sound that can get through, even when misaligned, even when you don’t match up, even when not in the same sea.

Steve’s love is invisible, but you know it’s there. It’s not a limit to fear. It’s not a barrier to turn away from. His love is not an obstacle you want to get past.

Not every invisible force is bad.

Sometimes, barriers slow you down, let you listen, make you rest, and help you float.

There are barriers everywhere, but nothing between you and Steve.

Ransom Drysdale and a kiss out of spite ⬅️ ➡️ Ari Levinson and a kiss out of envy

A/N: oof. *walks away crying* I'm fine. It's fine.

[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

@supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @yiiiikesmish @ashesofblackroses @spectre-posts @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @brandycranby @buckysprettybaby @ellethespaceunicorn @bucky-fricking-barnes-reads @fallinallinmendes @deandreamernp @im-a-slut-for-fluff @fangirl-swagg @georgeweaslysgirl @austynparksandpizza  @claireelizabeth85 @jamneuromain @shelbygeek @rogersideup @eyebagsanonymous @trudy-shams @saranghaey @awkwardgiraffe726 @rach2602 @royalwritersoftheuniverses @rogersbarber

[lovely-lady-lumps]

Headcanons: How's their cooking?

Characters: Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, Peter Parker, Loki

A/N: My first headcanon so I apologize if it's bad or doesn't make sense. Kind feedback is welcome.

°•○●♡●○•°

Tony Stark: Not very good. Given the fact he wasn't really raised by his parents and his robots do mostly everything for him, he never really learned how to cook. He does try for you but he mostly sticks to the classics. Grilled cheese and macaroni are his go to. Basically, if he was left to his own devices, he would eat like a child.

Steve Rogers: He's actually pretty decent. He never really cooked before the ice, first because he was too sickly and then because he was fed MREs. But after coming out of said ice and having a lot of time on his hands to relearn the world, he figured trying out simple recipes would come in handy.

Bucky Barnes: Amazing, his cooking is something you look forward to. He loves to cook because it reminds him of a life before HYDRA, when he would cook for a sick Steve. He's even better now because with all the new technology and access to more exotic foods, he's always trying new things.

Peter Parker: Almost the same as Tony, just slightly more advanced. When he was living with aunt May, she always ordered take out or they ate something simple. Now, in his own apartment, he lives off of cup ramen and easy spaghetti that will last him a few days. Don't expect him to really try cooking either, it'll just end up like aunt May's meatloaf.

Loki: Absolutely terrible. This man never had to cook for himself on Asgard. If he was hungry, food was either brought to him or he conjured something on his own. Or stole. But after falling in love with you he at least tried, and even if it ended in fire, it meant a lot to you.

[verybadatwriting]

Healer Masterlist

For all of these, the reader is gender neutral. They use they/them and I avoid physical descriptions (besides for both of the 'Hair' stories). Please tell me if I mess it up anywhere.

Reader is ~16. HYDRA captured them at age two.

Background: Civil War would have happened roughly one year ago. Everyone’s living at the Tower, Bucky’s there too. Still quite a bit of animosity between the Cap and Tony sides of Civil War. Tony, Steve, & Bucky managed to work it out at the big final battle, but Rhodey still fell and damaged his spine at the airport battle.

Part 1

Summary: Steve ends up in Hydra’s most secure prison.

Warnings: Injuries, past trauma, conditioning, death, torture (punches), witnessing death of a loved one,

Steve x teen!reader, Nat x teen!reader, Avengers x teen!reader

Word Count: 4,274

Part 2

Summary: Y/n adjusts to life in the tower and the people they share it with.

Warnings: Bad sleep schedule. References to past trauma (kidnapping, murder of parents, etc.)

Bucky x teen!reader, Steve x teen!reader, Wanda x teen!reader, Sam Wilson x teen!reader, Loki x teen!reader

Word Count: 2,477

Part 3

Summary: Y/n helps heal the Rift caused by the Sokovia Accords.

Warnings: Injuries, medical stuff (no needles)

Rhodey x teen!reader, Dr. Cho x teen!reader

Word Count: 726

Part 4

Summary: Reader is captured by Hydra again. 

Warnings: Blood, torture, needles, gore, angsty stuff. Major character death (temporary)

Nat x teen!reader, Steve x teen!reader, Avengers x teen!reader

Word Count: 4,336

Hair (Buzz cut)

Summary: Reader learns how to express themself through their hair.

Warnings: Bad memories

Nat x teen!reader

Word Count: 671

Hair (Medium/Long)

Summary: Reader learns how to express themself through their hair.

Warnings: Improper treatment of prisoners, cold exposure, dehumanization, reader has long/medium hair

Sam Wilson x teen!reader, Nat x teen!reader

Word Count: 625

[make-me-imagine]

Thinking of You

Prompt/Plot: “Receiving flowers but you don't know who they are from.“

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Gn!Reader

Requested By: Anonymous (left over from Valentines Day)

Words: 552

-

To say you had been stressed was an understatement. Every day brought new problems that you had to solve.

Walking towards your office, you ran through all the things you had to do today. Other SHIELD agents walked briskly down the hall, everyone with their own jobs and own problems.

Opening your office door, you stopped mid-step as you spotted a bouquet of flowers on your desk.

You blinked a few times as you walked over to your desk, eyes not leaving the flowers. Setting your bag down, you picked the bouquet up and turned it around in your hands.

Grabbing the card you read the printed text.

'I hope this brightens your day.'

Turning the card over, you noticed no name was left, and your chest swelled with curiosity. Was it really for you? And from who?

Smelling the flowers, you found a smile spreading across your face as your heart fluttered in your chest. Looking out into the hall, you left your office and walked across to the assistant desk.

"Taylor, did you see who left these in my office?"

Looking up, the assistant eyed the flowers with a curios gaze before shaking their head "I didn't see anyone come in with them, or go into your office."

You hummed softly, curiosity rising. Going back into your office, you took a few moments to put the flowers in a vase on your desk. The stressful thoughts of your busy morning leaving, if only for a short time.

As you got on with your day, you worked thoroughly and quietly. Every once and a while your eyes rose up to the flowers perched on the desk. Each time, your heart fluttered, as you wondered who left them for you.

Hearing your phone buzz, you flipped it over, seeing a message from Steve. Your heart fluttered again as your ears burned a little hotter as you read the message.

'Did you like your flowers?'

'You left them?'

'Yes.'

'They're beautiful. Thank you Steve. But, what are they for?'

'I was thinking of you, and how stressed you've been, and I thought it might brighten your day, just a little.'

'More than a little. Thank you.'

As you pressed send, you looked back at the flowers. Steve had been thinking of you? That alone caused your heart to pound heavily in your chest.

Letting out a deep breath, you told yourself to think nothing of it. He was your friend, and he was kind, that was all.

Looking down at your phone as another message came through, your breath caught in your throat.

'I was also hoping you might be free for dinner tonight?'

'I'm free. Is something going on?'

You told yourself not to think too much of it, yet.

'No, I just wanted to see you, it's been a while since we've been able to spend some time together'

You couldn't help but focus on what was being said in between the lines. He wanted to see you, maybe there really was more to it.

'Sounds great to me.'

'Good.'

You found yourself smiling brightly as you sat at your desk, wondering just what he really wanted to say to you. The flowers, and now dinner. Maybe it wasn't so bad to hope there was something else going on.

xx

General Taglist: @criminaly-supernatural, @imaginesfire, @onuen, @rexit-mo, @witchygagirl, @alexxavicry

Marvel+Steve Taglist: @aquariuslavenderhoney, @trashywritestrash, @groovy-lady, @marvelouslyme96, @supersourlemon13, @mochamoff, @simsiddy, @gay-and-ready-to-cry, @flourishandblotts-inc, @spuffyfan394, @agent-catfish-kenobi, @locke-writes, @cs-please, @a-lumos-in-the-nox, @creativitybeware, @that-marvel-simp, @gatefleet, @skylions-den, @dominos-palast, @maellem, @readingwithatorch, @cauliflowertree, @writerfulltime, @multifandomfix

[whore-for-chris-evans]

মনের মানুষ - Soulmate

[Steve Rogers x Indian!bengali!GN!reader

Summary: your heart is aching for a home that no longer exists. Steve finds you in the middle of emotional turmoil.

Warning: homesickness, childhood trauma if you squint, mention of political disturbance, fluff, cursing, Steve being an absolute sweetheart, Steve also getting the feels]

After the third round of knocking incessantly at your bedroom door, Steve huffed. He didn't want to intrude, in case you weren't decent or something.

"Sorry y/n," he muttered before twisting the handle, fully expecting to find it closed, unyielding.

His eyes widened, first in mild surprise at the ease with which he'd made it in: no locked doors. Then in shock, since his favourite person - you - was currently curled up on the floor, facing the sunset. Knees pulled up to your chest and tears streaming down your face as you whimpered softly now and then.

The next emotion was confusion at the music playing in the room - something that sounded like a folk song sung by a gravelly male voice in a language he didn't understand. However, he'd heard you speak or sing in it to yourself enough to know it was Bengali.

He joined you on the floor, quietly tapping your arm.

You turned your head to look at him, making no effort to wipe away the salty moisture on your cheeks. "I miss home."

Three words. Just three words from you tugged violently on his heart-strings, making him scoot closer and wrap his arms around you, pulling you closer. You let him engulf you, finding comfort in him.

He didn't bother asking any questions. He knew the answers. Unfair elections and totalitarian practices had completely destroyed the political opposition in India five years ago. You'd watched democracy fall apart slowly but surely within fifteen years. Your beloved state of West Bengal, safe from the ruling party till then, had been overpowered too.

You'd run. You'd wished you could stay and do something, be a patriot, but you'd run. Forced yourself to throw yourself and your best efforts into medical school, even if your heart had ached for a different subject instead. You'd clenched your jaw and survived five years of suffocating dictatorship (nobody ever called it that but that's what it was) and communal riots. Then, the moment you'd graduated, you'd packed your things and left your homeland for a stable future.

You hadn't taken anyone with you. Your family wasn't the best and you'd made the decision to go no contact with them while still in high school. You'd lied to them about where you would be living, promised them you'd call. At the airport, just before boarding, you'd sent your mother the final text you'd silently prepared beforehand, listing everything she'd done wrong and refused to make up for and why you felt wronged. You'd apologised for being so harsh, and for abandoning them, but explained that you needed to protect yourself and you couldn't do it while staying with them. Then you'd thrown away your phone.

It was for the best, for your best, but you still missed the carefree life of your early years. Carefree, not in the sense that you weren't being hurt over and over, but carefree in the sense that you were naïve enough not to realise you were being hurt. You were alone in this new environment. Yes, you'd found friends, you'd found Steve. But a part of you still felt lonely.

Steve knew all of this. He'd held you close the day you poured all of it out. And he held you close now as the homesickness returned.

"I'm a fucking coward," you sniffle. "I should've stayed and tried to fight. Spoken up. Done something. Said something. Anything. I didn't even try. Like a selfish bitch."

He pressed a kiss to your head, stroking your hair and shushing you. He'd save that conversation for later. Right now you didn't need a response from him, you needed to let your feelings out. He'd always be here to wipe your tears away and get you back on your feet.

You hugged him tighter, and he pulled you into his lap, leaning against the bed as he closed his eyes, focusing on the song playing on loop.

Weirdly, it felt like home. Nevermind that he understood nothing. There was something earthen and rustic about the song and its ambience, something that called to him. He thought of his mother. A little voice in him said she'd love this music too. He felt his own eyes water as well, and blinked to prevent them from spilling.

You turned in his arms a little so now your back was to his chest, and you both watched the sun go down in silence.

When you'd calmed down, he brought one of your hands up to his lips. "Do you feel like going out and getting some ice cream? Or brownies?"

You giggled - despite the surge of emotions earlier. "I'd love that. Thank you," you met his calm and loving eyes, genuine gratitude in your own.

"Of course, honey."

Minutes later, as you held on to him from behind while his motorcycle wove in and out of traffic, you felt some of the weight lifting off your chest. Life had been rough, but it was better now. You were better now. Safe and loved. You'd be okay, right?

You rubbed his arm softly. He found your hand and squeezed it three times at a red light.

Yeah, you'd be okay.

[AN: This is the direct product of me being homesick, while sitting in my hometown, and being terrified for the future. Steve is my comfort character so I wrote this solely to calm myself; this is the most self-indulgent piece I've ever written. I know most of you won't relate to this much, but I hope that for once, you can put yourself in my place and at least try to understand the emotions in this fic rather than agonise over the details which don't apply to you.

AN 2: India is quasi-federal in structural, meaning while there is a Prime Minister to govern the entire country, every state also has their individual Chief Minister and Cabinet of Ministers for the affairs of said state. The party in power at the Centre isn't always the ruling party in every state. West Bengal is one of such states where the part in power is different from the one at the Centre...so far.

Current affairs in the country are really bad. Abuse of legislation, silencing the national press, completely altering the Constitution, bribing the judiciary, rigging the polls - it's all happening. It's bad enough that the UN and even other countries have criticised the central administration here. This fic is me being super scared that what I mentioned here will actually happen. Elections are this month, and like many other civilians, I'm desperately praying it doesn't take a turn for the worse.

AN 3: The song linked above is the inspiration for the title. মনের মানুষ (moner manush) translates to "soulmate". It is one of the most popular Baul songs. Baul are a category of Bengali folk songs which have double meanings. Most songs, at first listen, appear to be aimed at a lover, however, they can also be meant for God. It depends on how you wish to interpret them. They're a highly respected part of Bengali heritage and can be easily identified by the sound of the ektara in the instrumental, a one stringed musical instrument.]

Tagging my desi friends:

@mainly-marvel @slut-for-henry-cavill @averageambivert

[jedi-valkyrie]

how marvel characters would react to an extensive skin care routine

including: steve rogers, clint barton, natasha romanoff, thor odinson, sam wilson, loki laufeyson

gender neutral!reader and the headcanons can be read as romantic or platonic

warnings: swearing (just from me, nothing bad)

requested by: @weigheddownbyfandoms

a/n: as someone with a long ass skin care routine i feel seen and heard. but this one’s shorter! sorry i’ve been gone so long!!!

steve

i don’t think he’d have any strong opinion

he’d just sorta sit back and observe

he’d probably sit with you while you did it just hover around

his morning routine isnt short either so if you do it then it’s a very big staple of his day

main motivation for getting up is the fact that he can see your face get so focused as you use some weird roller wand

he likes the domesticity of watching your routines; it’s soothing

clint

okay so he’d pretend not to care, he doesn’t see the use in it

very much cold water splash kinda guy i think

but then he sees the fun stuff

the jelly masks and the weird circulation massages

and it becomes a shared activity

yknow those ipsy bags that have those samples of cute makeup things

he’d start buying them for skincare

not for you, obviously

but because he wants the weird bubble mask

bruce

he gets it. he doesn’t mind

he gets very wary of the chemicals though

if he sees a paraben or a sulfate, you can bet your ass it’ll be replaced by tomorrow

“i don’t care that it’s more expensive, it’s worth the extra 10 dollars”

he’s kinda the opposite of clint

he only does the stuff that seems relaxing

you’re telling me that he wouldn’t go to a spa with you? lies, he’d get the cucumbers on the eyes and everything

also he’d do a green face mask and laugh at himself way too hard

natasha

once again, doesn’t really care

she’s used to having to do shit fast so she’ll just kinda bask in the leisure of it all

she’s most like steve but she’d probably get impatient on occasion

she doesn’t see the value in it necessarily but it makes you happy so she doesn’t care

she makes fun of you with all of the little tools that you’d use

“it looks like a fucking dentists office in here”

thor

oh my god he gets so excited

he’s so interested

he’s always glued to your side anyways and the new colorful goop just heightened it

he is with you every step of the way

he’ll watch tutorials, he’ll google different products

he will incorporate every piece of you into his life, even if it means he has to scrub clay out of his eyebrows

he will do it voluntarily and without complaint

sam

sam likes to take his time

he already probably has some sort of routine anyways

but when you suggest that you start sharing the bathroom so getting ready isn’t a full two hour production

he practically leaps at the opportunity; free shared time and free fun products

he likes the relaxing stuff

the soothing washes and the moisturizer

he loves a good self care day

loki

my first thought was: snake, slimy

but no i think he thinks it’s too much.

watching all of the little trinkets probably makes him scoff or something

he’s one of those people (gods) with fucking perfect skin so he doesn’t understand the hydrochloric acid (or whatever you choose to use)

he just doesn’t see the point

but i think on some level he’d rather suffer through your routine then have to sit alone for that long

so he sits and he reads while you do your thing (was he silent? or was he silenced?)

[ru-xia]

*Steve sneezes*

Y/n: God bless America!

Steve: Did you just-

Y/n: Yes. Yes I did.

[stranger-nightmare]

Since your requests are open, can I request a Steve Rogers fic where he’s touch starved and more clingy to the reader because she just came back from the snap and Steve misses her deeply? Reader finds it really cute and they spend the day cuddling and attacking each other with fluffy kisses.

𝐍𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐆𝐨

pairing: Steve Rogers x (female) Reader

summary: you’re back with Steve after being snapped away for five years. Steve is now somehow clingy and distant at the same time and you finally confront him on it

warnings: angst, fluff

It had only been a few days since you’d returned from the snap. Trying to adjust was hard, what had only been a few seconds for you had apparently been five years for the rest of the world. You were grateful that you had Steve to lean on at least.

But you couldn’t help the slight unease that in your stomach when you were with him as well. For you there had been no gap in your relationship. For him there had been years.

It was strange, Steve was somehow extremely clingy and needy with you since you returned but somehow simultaneously distant and closed off. His physical affection was astounding, he quite literally seemed to always have a hand on you somehow, to always be touching you in one way or another. He’d even follow you when you got up to get a drink from the kitchen; it was like he couldn’t stand to be apart from you anymore than he needed to. He wouldn’t let you out of his sight for even a second longer than needed.

And yet he never talked to you anymore. He never opened up, never let you in to what was troubling him. His body might be right next to you but his mind, his heart, were always a million miles away.

One day you were faffing about the kitchen when Steve returned from a mission. He stomped straight into the room, striding over to you, before enveloping you in a bear hug, squeezing you so tight you were convinced your eyes were gonna pop out of your head. He sighed deeply and you could feel the slight tremble in his body, despite how well he tried to hide it.

“Steve?” You mumble into his chest. “What happened?” You rub his back lightly, signalling for him to loosen his grip slightly.

He looks down at you and shrugs; “nothing, I just missed you."

But you can see the pain and sadness that lingers behind his eyes.

“Steve please” you whisper, looking at him imploringly. “Don’t lie to me. I can see something’s upset you” you press gently.

He shakes his head and shrugs again.

“Steve” you speak a bit more firmly now. “Please I can’t keep doing this."

“Doing what?” He looks confused behind his anger and sadness.

You sigh deeply before answering; “Ever since I came back you’ve managed to somehow be both extremely clingy and extremely distant. You won’t let go of me but you also won’t talk to me. I’m your partner, Steve, you’re supposed to be able to lean on me when you need to. Just talk to me, please, tell me what happened.”

He looks at you blankly, unsure of how to respond.

“You think I’m being too clingy?” He shifts to pull back, letting you slip from his grasp.

“No, no that’s not what I meant” you reach forwards and pull him back against you. “I just mean I want you to be as like emotionally affectionate as you are with the physical affection, if that even makes sense. I just want you to talk to me.”

“So you’re okay with how clingy I've been? Because I know I have been, but I just can’t help it” he looks at you sincerely.

You just nod and give him a warm smile.

“Good,” he pulls you back into his chest, kissing all over your face and head, causing you to giggle and squirm against him.

“Because I’m never letting go of you again” he whispers against the top of your head after you’d finally stopped wriggling.

“I can live with that” you sigh, smiling into his chest. “As long as you promise to actually talk to me as well, okay?”

“Okay, I promise.”

Masterlist

A/N: oops this was a lil longer than I meant it to be and I also kinda took the request in a different direction, sorry! but I hope you still like it, thank you for the request!! <33

p.s. I didn’t proofread this one bc I’m lazy lmao so sorry if there’s any mistakes in there🙈

Taglist // Join My Nightmare Realm // Ko-fi

[steveshaped]

i knew you'd come back to me

a/n: i was searching for a christmas fic with steve, a little bit of fluff and a whole lot of angst. this is just me scratching that itch. btw this is a sideblog which i'm using to write and i don't know if i will continue using it or not.

anyway, this is entirely inspired by my obsession with cardigan by taylor swift so... here we are.

pairing: steve rogers x reader

content warnings: angst, fem! implied reader but can be read as gn! too. the snap didn't happen but time travel did, go along with it, would you? kinda sad ending maybe.

you stare at the pumpkin cookie dough as thoughts of last december creep in. snow, spaghetti, sparkling champagne, shortcakes, silver on the table and these cookies.

those were the kind of dinners you had with steve.

gooseflesh erupted on the back of your neck as you felt the cold air seep in through the door as someone walked in, snapping you out of the memory.

"good evening, would you like to order a coffee?" you ask customarily as you get ready to take his order.

"uh, yeah, can i get a pumpkin spiced latte with vanilla?"

you look up at the guy, almost hoping to see someone else. steve always ordered that since the first time you suggested it to him.

white snow and black coffee, that's who he was before he met you. until you started adding more spice to his life.

it was the middle of december and for some reason you've had steve on your mind all day long. the last time that you had thought of him was when a memory popped up on your phone with a picture of the two of you. you've since deleted all the pictures from your phone (of course, after taking a backup) but that was when you'd finally taken a step to put it past you. that was when you'd decided to stop making yourself suffer in the tiniest of ways. 

today was not helping.

today had been full of coincidences. if that's what it still was, a coincidence. you had gone to pick up your dress from the dry cleaners after your daily run in the morning and you'd seen the exact pair of levi's that steve owned. perhaps not the exact one because this pair had a huge stain on it. so you wound up thinking about the night when he'd been wearing those when he took you out on a date and you both ended up drinking a lot of wine with dinner. he was barely intoxicated, obviously– but being around your silly goofy drunk self made him less sober. and when you both stumbled into your home, unable to locate the light switches– steve opened your curtains whilst you played some music from your phone and took out the good wine for the both of you to have. then your favourite song came on and steve asked you to dance– the streetlight streaming in– illuminating his face– he almost looked younger, carefree, more than you'd ever seen him. you leaned your head on his shoulder as he placed his hands on your waist, both swaying with the beat.

you remember that later when you'd changed into your sweats and crept into the bed with him, you were grateful that it was a sunday the next day and you'd be lucky enough to wake up next to him rather than be greeted with an empty bed as usual. steve adjusted as you climbed under the covers with him and his hand crept up your back, under your sweatshirt, trailing your spine– always at the same spot. as you tried to fall asleep, you spent some time tracing the stretch marks on his arms. the ones he said he had gotten when he was treated with the supersoldier serum and his body grew too quickly, too soon. he wore a thrifted vintage tee, the one he'd found when you took him to your favourite thrift shop down the street. not quite as old as him, but then again, only a few things were. somehow he gravitated towards them, feeling a kinship towards the lost things of the world. it was the same tshirt you'd seen a dad wearing in the park you'd gone to for your morning run.

normally you didn't have time to notice your body when you got ready for work. but today you noticed the constellation of stars tattooed on your knee. the ones he'd drawn after you slipped and fell in the shower and ended up with a large bruise and swollen knee. steve took care of you the whole day, he gave your knee kisses 'to make it heal faster', the way his ma used to. when he was finally leaving the next morning to go on a mission with nat, he drew those stars– a kiss that would stay with you. you waited for your knee to get better, wrapping it up and making the ink last longer on your skin till you could finally make it permanent.

but it was inevitable, you always knew you'd loose him. every time he went on a mission, every moment he wasn't with you, you were preparing yourself for it.

only when you had started to feel more secure– only when you'd catch yourself daydreaming of a future with him– that was when you'd lost him. you remember the car ride to the train station when he was leaving again for new york that week. you'd been feeling odd that day, for no apparent reason. you assured yourself that steve will come back soon. he'd been living with you for the past couple of months until he got a call from tony (only that it was bruce) telling him about some infinity stones.

the steve you knew, listened to you. when he left, he'd grown out his hair and beard on your suggestion– that was your steve. not the version that everyone else knew. the steve you knew was a human being who sometimes made mistakes, occassionally had mood swings, on some days he loved you more and other days not so much (on days you'd had another one of your fights about his retirement) but at the end of the day, he was yours. that's what you thought.

everyone else thought that if anything, steve was loyal. but when the war was over and steve left with the infinity stones, you sat in your home waiting. for days and days you had waited. but there was no news of him. had something happened to him? did he need saving? if so, why didn't anyone go back for him? and no one would say anything. not even bucky. you weren't sure if you had to grieve or not. the only thing you knew was that steve was alive. he didn't come back to you though.

until tonight, when you came back home to find someone sitting on your porch, waiting for you. it took you some time to register. it was steve, it really was him but, he was older. much much older than the steve you knew. 

"y/n"

"steve" you said, surprisingly with a steady voice. you didn't know if that made you look brave or detached. would it make him think that what you had was not real? but if he really went back to live his life then did he ever think of your relationship as something real?

"can we talk?" he asked. his voice was heavier, older too. you let the man in. made him a fresh cup of coffee. 

"the cold really hits you at this age" he says and you laugh out loud. steve was never cold, even when you'd be shivering with teeth chattering cold, you could still find him to be perfectly warm. on occasions you have used him as a human heat regulator. you hand him a hot cup of coffee as you sit down on the couch.

he explains what happened. he explains how he chose peggy. he was a loyal man after all, he had to show up for the promised dance. and he stayed, he wanted to. but he didn't want to hurt you. you'd only been together for how long? you let him finish because you didn't want to fight him. you don't even know how to anymore because this man wasn't the steve you knew. this man had lived his life.

so you let him finish his story. about how he'd passed on his shield to sam. how he needed to come back a last time to explain everything to you because you didn't deserve what he did to you. it took him months because he was sorting out legal stuff. and then some more time to decide what to say to you. and here he was.

last christmas you had steve, tackling you with kisses. a dust of sugar on your nose that he licked up for you. and the sweet aftertaste in his mouth when he kissed you right after. of steve, of sweet vanilla and pumpkin spice from his coffee that he'd had earlier.

you had met him on the train from new york. you'd get to talking around when he way eyeing your cookies (which smelled delicious, who wouldn't?) and so you ended up offering him some. you had some pretty good laughs on that ride, and you didn't mind that he finished up your snack. you'd only known him as steve. so when he asked you out on a date while geting off on the station, you weren't surprised– he was a charming man. and you weren't afraid of admitting that he had your heart right then.

and it's hard to believe that it was only last year that steve was here, putting up the ornaments on the tree for you, massaging your feet after you came home from a very busy day at the cafe, him kissing you at midnight on new years. why is everything so different now? you couldn't help but wonder, what if it wasn't? what if that steve was still here?

but he wasn't. and for that you forgive him, you had to. for your own good. he chose peggy and you forgive him because what you had with him was enough for you. 

you never did hope for a lifetime with him. 

what you had was a lifetime. 

"it's okay steve" you said. and he knew that you were okay then, that you will be okay without him.

that night was the last you saw of him, you sat beside him with your head on his shoulder, breathing him in for the last time as you held his warm hand between your cold palms. and before he left, you kissed his cheek for the last time. you had him at last. he came back to you. and your's was the last kiss he would hold.

[sleepisaturn]

headcanons of movie nights with Steve

steve rogers x gn!reader

headcanons of how movie nights go with Steve as your boyfriend

this is like both a headcanon and a drabble lol

Steve would always let you choose the movie you two would watch because he'd want to know the movies that would make you happy.

You'd wear one of his oversized shirts which miraculously he does have along his extra small shirts that he insists on wearing plus his boxers that you'd use as shorts.

He'd hover over your form as you prepare the snacks, he'd back hug you with his head resting on your neck as the two of you waited for the popcorn to be microwaved.

He loves listening to the little facts you have before and after watching the movie, the actor did his own stunts? wow they actually used melted plastic for the special effects? that's cool the whole background was cgi? impossible!

It was absolutely the same for you, you loved watching the expression Steve made as you explained that some of the stuff in the movie wasn't real, especially when you tell him it wasn't actually raining in that scene in The Notebook.

In return he'd be the one to tell the inaccuracies of the movie in case it was based on the forties or the war, he'd tell more of his own war stories midway though.

The large couch would be filled with pillows and and two fluffy blankets that would end up on the floor while the two of you cuddled for more warmth ignoring the blankets that were thrown away.

You'd love it whenever he gets scared and cuddles closer to your side. His warm body would squeeze you tighter as his hands were already wrapped around you.

Steve would try to cover his eyes with his hands as you would always make him watch horror movies but not being able to resist watching the scary movie anyways.

You did have to convince him that not every vhs tape is haunted, he'd probably be able to beat the girl from The Ring anyways. You also might have just made him more phone phobic than he already is, after that.

" the phone is not gonna get you Rogers "

" you don't know that! "

" babe we watched the movie not the tape! "

He also wouldn't be afraid to cry with you when the movies are that depressing. You and Steve would cry so much while watching Me Before You.

Steve couldn't ask for a better view of you resting on his shoulder as your eyes were stuck on the wide television, some popcorn stuck on your hair that made him silently snort. A wide grin etched on his face as thinks that this, this was it, this would be all he needs in his life.

" we should do this every Friday "

" movies? we can even do it everyday babe "

" no, I mean like officially, Fridays are for movie nights, just us and a big bowl of popcorn "

" Bucky and Sam are gonna be heartbroken we don't invite them " you joked as you ate another piece of popcorn

" they can have their own movie night doll "

" okay, we'll do movie marathons every Friday, except when the world's about to end "

" I'd love to watch a movie with you as the world ends, doll "

" shut up, you sap " you reply laughing as you throw a popcorn on his face

The two of you would also have a game of catching popcorn with your mouths, one would throw a piece as the other would catch it with their mouth while they're in a far away distance.

Steve's the type to genuinely love any type of Christmas movie and would insist on wearing ugly Christmas sweaters even when it's summer.

He would love Home Alone, but would also voice out his concerns on how irresponsible Kevin's parents are. He'd be so happy knowing there was a sequel.

After every movie night there would be popcorn everywhere, from the couch to the floor and even as far as the bedroom.

The two of you would always just end up falling asleep on the couch anyways, an empty bowl of popcorn still on your lap as the two of you cuddle on the large sofa till the sun rises.

[sconnie-doesnt-know]

Yield

Steve Rogers x Reader

This is some soft fluff my friends

WC: 970

Note: This has been sitting in my drafts for a long time so I figured I should finish and share it. The prompt was sent in several months ago: This poor man has been through so much and I just want someone to let him lie with his head in their lap and play with his hair post mission or something and comfort him!   I am sorry it took so long!  All mistakes are my own.

It’s too early, way too early, like the sun’s not up yet kind of early. You roll over and stare at the shadows on the ceiling, trying to figure out what ripped you from sleep, but there’s no alarm going off, no hurried footsteps, and no warm body next to you.

Rolling to face his side of the bed, wondering how much longer he’ll be gone, that’s when you hear it; the whisper-like sound of a turning page, the light scratching of pen on paper.

Slipping from beneath the covers and tiptoeing through the hall, you find Steve sitting on the floor of the dimly lit living room, back against the couch and legs out straight in front of him. Files and stacks of paper spread out over the floor around him while he jots notes on the report in his hands.

“Sorry sweetheart,” he looks up, a worn out expression on his face. “I didn’t want to wake you.”

“Steve.” You sigh out his name, almost sounding like a light reprimand, and head toward him. Stepping around the neat stacks, you kneel on the floor next to him, cradling his jaw and pulling him in for a kiss. “You know I wouldn’t mind. When did you get home?”

Avoiding answering, he reciprocates the kiss, pen still in hand as he cups your cheek and presses a long, slow kiss to your lips before he allows you to pull back and sit on your heels.

Looking him over, it’s clear it’s been a little while. His hair is still soft and slightly damp from a shower, and he’s dressed down in flannel pants and a t-shirt.

“I wanted to let you sleep, but it was just about an hour,” he glances at the clock on the wall and lets out a heavy breath when he sees the time, “Or three ago.”

“Anything you need to talk about?” It’s the safest question you can come up with, way better than the ‘who died?’ that immediately popped into your head.

“No, not yet,” he gestures at the various file folders all around him, “I mean, something stuck out, but I need to review these old files before I bring it to Fury.” He glares at the report in front of him, most of the page blacked out with redactions.

“And it needs to happen now?” You tilt your face back into his line of sight.

“While it’s fresh in my mind.” He gives you a slight nod. “Go back to sleep if you can, I’ll join you soon.”

“I’ll just stay here with you, but can we move the the couch?”

His face goes soft with affection, his tired eyes blinking slowly and a lopsided smile curls his lips, “O’course darlin’,” he whispers, voice heavy with his accent.

You push yourself up onto the cushions, nestled in the corner of the couch and beckon him to you, shaking your head when he first moves to sit next to you before ordering him to lie outstretched with his feet hanging over the far end.

“You don’t wanna lie down, go back to sleep?” he asks, looking at you from where his head rests on your thigh.

“Nope.” Delicately, you run a fingertip along the curve of his brow, “Just wanna be with you.”

He gives you a lovesick smile in return, “Alright.”

You sit there for a few moments, watching as his eyes dart all over the pages he holds against his chest, his eyes sometimes squinting, teeth nibbling on the inside of his lip as he thinks. After getting through the last page, he drops the folder to the floor before scooping a new one from the pile next to it. The movement tousles his hair, making a few locks fall out of place.

You soothe them back with your fingers, sliding easily through his soft, sleek hair. Pulling away, a few more bits look out of place, so you start to comb those back too before settling into a rhythm of combing through his hair, running yout nails gently over his scalp.

You shift your arm so that you can reach the other side of his head, dragging your nails through the soft, short strands above his ear and following the hairline down to that ticklish spot above the back of his neck. His shoulders shake as he chuckles from the sensation.

“Tickles,” he mumbles.

“I know,” you whisper back, running a fingertip over the spot one more time before going back to the crown of his hair, alternating between petting the hair back and dragging your nails through it.

You’re too busy watching the way the golden strands part, the way the soft light makes them glimmer to notice how heavy his breathing has become. It’s only when the folder sways in his hold that you realize he’s starting to doze.

Slowly and carefully, you reach for the file, trying to gingerly slide it from his fist before it can flop down and hit him on the face while keeping the steady motion of combing his hair with the other, but the coordination is a bit off and you end up jostling him more than you wanted when you drop the file folder onto the floor, making his eyes blink open.

“Just resting my eyes,” he tries to excuse while letting his eyelids droop down again. He shifts a bit, rolling onto his side so that your thigh becomes a pillow and he manages to tuck your arm with his. “Feels good, babe.”

You can’t help the sigh of satisfaction or the small, fond smile that makes its way across your lips. “I know, Stevie. I got you,” you whisper as you continue to slowly caress your fingers through his hair, only stopping when sleep overtakes you, too.

[astyrial]

an old life steve rogers x gn!reader (fluff) synopsis: someone finds you on the roof word count: 832 warnings: none masterlist | requests are open

    new york's nightlife tends to block a lot of the stars in the night sky. due to the constant light pollution that plagues the cities, it's hard to find any kind of light besides the moonlight. leaving it to be so undeniably pretty that you can't help but sit on the roof of the new avenger's 'tower' just to see.

  especially with the work that you do with the avengers, it's hard to find time for yourself. so you'll grab a book, a little chair (preferably comfortable), and a nice drink to top off the evening. and then watch as the moon rises in the sky.

  none of the avengers ever mentioned seeing you seclude yourself to the roof. so you always figured that they went off to do their own things. leaving you to have a night of peace that would normally be filled to the brim of interruptions and beady little eyes staring down yours...

  so why does it feel like someone's staring into the back of your head? you turn around to see steve standing there with his hands tucked into his front pockets. when he sees you looking back, he looks away for a moment, bringing a hand up and scratching the back of his neck.

  "steve? what's up?" you give him a small smile, grabbing a small piece of paper and setting it in the book before closing it. 

  he starts walking towards where you are, a smile on his face. "just saw that you came up here and was wondering if you wanted to chat.. if not, i will leave immediately," steve holds up his hands, as if he got caught in the act of something nefarious.

  you shake your head, sighing a little before waving him over. it wasn't the first time the two of you got together to just talk. as much as neither of you want to admit it, you're rather similar. you're a delinquent compared to steve, but always for the right reasons. which is why he does what he does as well.

  "well, come on over than cap'ain," your hand pats the ground beside you, no other chair in sight for him to sit in, "sorry the seating is a little sparse, i wasn't expecting anyone to be joining me up here. figured you were out at some diner or something."

  steve lets out a short laugh, sitting beside you on the concrete roof. a diner? that's the first thing you could think of? your mind rattles off in embarrassment as he shakes his head. "a diner? no, haven't been in one since the forties.. i'm joking about that, i was at one yesterday."

  you raise your eyebrows in amusement, maybe you weren't so wrong about the super soldier. couldn't help but revert to his old ways. "so, steven, what'd you want to chat about then? hopefully not any missions because this is my night off..." 

  "I don't know, just anything? it's hard to have a normal conversation with anyone else in this facility. like what's your favorite weather? do you have a favorite food? it's hard to find the time," steve looks away from you and up at the moon above. 

  he's right about it all, not having the time. not building relationships with anyone on the team because you just can't... no one has the emotional vulnerability to be able to step away and have a moment. besides steve, apparently. it could stem from his life before being a super soldier. 

  unlike the other members of the team, steve was down to earth, understanding. "favorite weather? thunderstorms, for sure. and my favorite food? why that's like asking which of my children i adore the most!"

  steve looks back at you, shaking his head at your answer. "what about you captain?" he purses his lips as though he's thinking before shrugging.

  "probably when it's completely free of clouds. that way i can see the moon and stars at night. it's soothing, reminds me of.. the past? i don't quite know what to call it," he looks down at the roof, not quite sure how to describe what he's thinking.

  you look over at you, a small smile on your face, "maybe just an old life? one that's no longer there, but still forever in your heart? or at least, that's how i would describe it cap'ain. do you ever wish you could go back?"

  steve looks back at you, seeing someone who doesn't just brush off his time in the past. he sighs, "go back? maybe? i had someone i loved in the past.." 

  then he looks up at you. the smile on your face, the way the moon shines just a little to give you a simple glow. steve never thought he could catch feelings for someone after peggy. as he looks at you, though, he can feel his heartbeat quickening and his palms becoming clammy.

  "but then i realize maybe there's someone for me in this lifetime too."

[itsprashimusic]

'I got it! I got it!!!!'

Pairings - Avengers x platonic!gn!Reader, Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary - It is team bonding time! This time the avengers are playing cricket on a Sunday afternoon. Just some fun and chaotic times. And somehow you ended up on a date with Steve.

Warnings - swear words, reader is 25/26 years old, the reader ogling steve (and bucky, like once), steve kinda ogling reader😉, reader takes their top off (girls don't worry, you can imagine them with a tank top on underneath), reader's got some rizz, descriptions of a broken nose?, no they do not end up kissing. NOT FULLY PROOFREAD.

Word Count - 3.6k

A/N - this is an au where everyone lives and a few of the newer characters are introduced, also for the sake of this fic let's pretend that cricket was popular in the US in the 40s. This ended up being more of a Steve x reader towards the end. though i tried to include the avengers as much as i could.

sidenote - if you're reading this as a guy and are not into guys, i apologize cause the reader and steve act flirty w/ each other in this. you may very well skip this fic if you wish.

It was a warm afternoon. The kind that either made you want to cozy up in bed for hours or go for a walk outside, each option depending on person to person. Although you wanted to do the former, Steve and Tony decided it was perfect weather to spend some team bonding time.

Even though the sun was out, and you wanted to stay in, you soon forgot about all your earlier protests of it being too hot and you wanting to finish a book you were reading, when the playing actually started, and your slight competitive nature came out.

So here you were, 45 minutes into the game, covered completely in sweat but still having the time of your life. It was probably no surprise when the two teams formed were namely Team Cap and Team Ironman. When you heard the names the teams you face-palmed yourself, but then again it was Tony who suggested the names.

Under team Cap came of course the Captain himself, Steve 'America's Ass' Rogers, the most likely vice-captain, Sam Wilson, the one who was forced to play to get 'social time', Mr. Bucky Barnes, the one who was excited to play because she played it with her brother and their friends when they were younger, Wanda Maximoff, the one who was excited just to be included in team bonding, Kate 'Clumsy' Bishop, the one who was over-the-top joyful to be there, Thor Odinson, and the little one who wanted to join his mom, Billy 'Mama's boy' Maximoff.

Under team Ironman was the self-proclaimed captain, Tony 'Showoff' Stark, the levelheaded one who is actually the captain, Natasha Romanoff, the one who doesn't know what to do but will gladly join for the fun, Vision, the one who is excited for no apparent reason, Peter 'I will not fail you Mr. Stark' Parker, the one who will be kicked off the team if he uses his powers, Pietro Maximoff, the other little one who wanted to play with his dad and (real) uncle, Tommy 'I'm the faster twin' Maximoff, and the one who would've preferred to stay inside but was dragged to play, one Y/N Y/L/N.

Playing the role of the umpire to this game was Rhodey, and bless this man's soul of being able to have patience with the Earth's Rowdiest Mightiest Heros, cause the game was just chaos entirely.

Team Ironman was batting first. The first ones up were Peter and Vision. "Remember keep a firm grip on the bat! We don't want it flying like last time!" Tony was yelling from the sidelines as Peter was readjusting the bat in his grip. At the same time Tommy was cheering on his dad with a "You got this dad! We can beat mom's team!" which was honestly really cute.

Where normal matches would've had 20 overs, the Avengers decided on having just 10. After confirming Peter was ready, Sam took a bit of a running start before throwing the ball. Keeping his eye trained on the ball Peter swung his bat hard, only to have it be flung over 25 yards (roughly 22 meters) from his hands. Just as Peter's hands immediately go to cover his face in embarrassment, Tony's hand ran down his face in frustration. "This is just what I told you not to do kid," Tony said while shaking his head, then turning to look at you he said, "Can you believe this kid?" "Nope, but you still love him" you responded.

"That I do"

Once Wanda returned the bat to Peter, the game resumed, and this time Peter actually held on to the bat and hit the ball scoring a 4. Nice. After another hit done by Peter, it was Vision's turn. He turned out to be surprisingly good at this game despite it being his very first time. Two balls later and Peter was out. Next came in Tommy and to make it a little easier for him to hit the ball it was Billy who would be throwing them for his twin. It was adorable watching the kids play along with their father like that. A sight like this was rare at the Avengers Compound lately. But sadly, Tommy too got out and had to leave. Next up was you along with Vision, who was surprisingly holding his own pretty well.

After promising Tony for the 100th time that the bat would not fling out of your grasp, you finally got to play. Your start was not that strong, but after a couple of balls you were getting better. Because you and Vis were both good players, Rhodey agreed to give you a tougher bowler. So instead of having Kate bowl, it was now Steve. And good god was this man frustratingly good at cricket. He was really making it hard for the two of you.

"Hey Rogers, mind making it easier for us here? It's kinda hard to hit a ball with you throwing it so fast," you said after completing a run.

"Kinda the entire point of me throwing them, sweetheart. Kate was making it easy for you." damn Steve and his constant use of nicknames. OK WE'RE GOING OFF TRACK. Steve took his stance again and began jogging. Your eyes followed his thighs as he stood and started jogging towards you...putting it plainly you were distracted. He threw the ball, which came hurling at you at lightning speed. You somehow managed to hit it, only for Kate, out of all of them, to catch it mid-air. Sighing in defeat, you made your way back to the bleachers handing the bat over to Pietro.

"You did good kid. Out of all of them, I think you've played the best." Tony said pulling you into a side-hug.

"Really?". Tony nods his head.

"You're on my team, and let's be honest, a Stark's choices tend to be the best."

"Next thing you know, Morgan will be using that when she brings a boy over," you say with a chuckle. To which Tony replies, "There's still time for that, she's not growing up that quick." he said more to himself that anyone. You nodded your head, stifling a laugh while Tony brought you in for a side hug. "Looks like Maximoff's out. Red, you're up."

It was now down to their last two players. Nat went up to the pitch that had been created by pulling out the grass. You see, when it's the Avengers playing, they don't care about safety equipment. Only the two kids were wearing knee pads and a helmet. But other than that, nobody was wearing something that would protect themselves. And that would make a clear path for some accidents to make themselves home.

Thor was bowling when Nat joined. "Alright, let's do this!" he exclaimed with a lot of enthusiasm. First missed red flag. Thor insisted on not doing what he called the 'pathetic little run'. He said he'd be fine without it. He took his place while Nat took her stance holding a bat that was a bit too heavy for her. It was meant to be used only by Peter, as he was physically stronger than the others on his team

Second missed red flag.

Thor threw the ball. Nat swung her bat hitting the ball, but not without hurting her wrist with the weight of the bat. But being the trained ex-assassin that she is, her face remained neutral. Hence why no one could tell she was in pain and continued the game.

After completing 2 runs Nat took her stance again. Thor was holding the ball in his hand, tossing it and catching it. When the average person plays cricket, they would normally use either a rubber ball or a much softer yellow tennis ball. But the Avengers are not normal. When Tony ordered the kit online, he didn't realize that he ordered the Season Kit. THIRD MISSED RED FLAG!

The ball that Thor was playing around with was a season ball, a ball much heavier than a rubber ball and much harder than a tennis ball. And in all his excitement, he one: got too into the game and two: forgot to check whether Nat was ready.

She wasn't.

He threw the ball at her without warning. She was not expecting it and it hit her in the face, hard. So now not only was Nat's wrist injured, but she almost definitely had a broken nose. When her wrist got injured, she acted as if nothing happened. But when the ball made contact with her face a loud squeal was heard from her.

Because of how rare it is to hear such a sound come from the world-famous widow, almost everyone ran to her the second her hands flew to her face. Tony's 'we are gonna win' smirk dropped from his face and his legs started moving forward.

"Ow. Tony what the hell is that ball made of?" Nat yelled when she saw him, sending him a terrifying glare. Rushing towards Nat, you knelt down in front of her. Her hands and face were coated in blood. Everyone crowded around her while Peter took the bat from her. You had already taken your t-shirt off and started wiping the blood from her hands and face. Steve had come back with an ice pack.

Now, the team has seen you without a top on countless occasions. So did Steve. But that didn't stop him from staring at you, his jaw slightly dropped. Maybe because your muscles became more defined since the last time he saw you shirtless. You, of course, didn't notice it since your focus was on Nat.

"Thanks y/n/n" she said, sounding very nasally. Her nose really was broken. "Can someone get me to the bleachers?" Before you could react Sam effortlessly picked her up and carried her to the bleachers. Nat kept your shirt with her to absorb any more blood which dripped out of her nose. Steve had not moved from his place as his eyes followed you. Bucky came up behind him, smacked him in the back of his head, took the ice pack and walked away with an all-knowing smirk on his face.

Steve shook it off and walked up to where everyone was coddling Nat. You were next to the group of people already on the phone with Dr. Cho and in the other slightly bloodied hand you held a hand towel, wiping the sweat from the back of your neck. Quite a sight it was for the Captain who could not keep his eyes off of you, eyes following where the towel went to wipe up sweat. That earned him a quiet whistle from Bucky in his ear and a smirk from you who knew he was staring.

Once everyone finally left Natasha alone and in the care of Dr. Cho, team Ironman finished all of their overs (which meant that Tony was forced to play against his will) and it was team Cap's turn to bat. Peter had already offered you an extra t-shirt of his which he carried with him, and that made Steve a little jealous.

Most of the game went by soon. Turns out majority of team Cap were pretty weak batters. But then Sam came onto the scene, and everything changed. The only score he seemed to be getting were 4s and 6s. Thor got out pretty quickly. And in came Bucky Barnes. He and Sam were among the last players but were the strongest at the same time. The score team Cap had to beat was 104. It proved a bit hard in the beginning, but eventually got easier.

You were currently stuck playing wicket keeper. Originally Tony wanted Peter to do it, but Rhodey didn't allow it when he saw Peter had his webshooters with him. No one else wanted to be put in a crouched down position, and you were pretty good at catching things, so it ended up being your responsibility.

Because of the earlier batters being so sadly poor at the game, you were able to score 7 wickets by the time Sam came along. 3 more and you would win. Pietro was bowling, while Sam was batting. It was starting to get really hot, so much so that Bucky even lost his inseparable leather jacket, entire metal arm on display. A sight that got you staring for a few minutes until Tony cleared his throat catching your attention.

Pietro took a short jogging start and threw the ball. Sam hit it sending in far enough to be considered a six and took off running. You couldn't hear your own yelling over Steve's. His authoritative voice overtook yours as he yelled at Sam and Bucky to run faster. Not gonna lie, you found that hot. Peter yelled your name and threw the ball to you. You caught the ball and hit the wicket just as Bucky's bat made its ground. Everyone looked at Rhodey, "Safe". Rhodey had called that out when Steve started wolf-whistling. With wide eyes you turned around to look at him, just like everyone else.

"You might wanna save those sounds for later Cap" you say with a smirk, knowing exactly what Steve will say next.

"Oh, and what might 'later' entail?" he asks as you toss the ball over to Pietro. "Later entails me and you in a pool at sunset" you call over your shoulder with a wink. Steve's red face from running around earlier had cleared leaving him back to his normal shade, but a bright shade of scarlet started creeping up along his cheeks. Yep, you just got Captain America flustered. You heard Nat chuckling from the bleachers. Her nose was bandaged up and she came back to watch the match.

The plan was to play a sport during the afternoon and then spend time in a pool during sunset. Not just you and Steve but the entire team. Though, you knew them well, they all would probably make some sort of excuse to leave you and Steve alone.

There were a few more overs left now it was just Sam and Steve who were batting. The ball was thrown and just as Steve was about to hit it with his bat, you whistled loudly right in his ear. This caused him to lose focus and hit the ball wrongly. It also was the reason you got a disappointed look from Rhodey but a proud and approving one from Tony along with a thumbs-up.

The game continued and soon they were down to their final ball. the score was 100, 9 wickets. You called out to Steve, "Aye Cap, wanna bet? Loser has to buy the winner anything they want." Steve turned around to face you. With a smile on his face he said, "Sure. We beat the score, I win. You hit the wicket, or I miss somehow, you win." You nod your head and you both shake on the deal, "Though there will be a price limit of $200." you say.

The bowler got ready and started running. He threw the ball. Steve hit the ball. It bounced on the field. Peter caught it. He threw it to you. Steve saw it and had to make a sharp turn to dash back. You caught the ball. You hit the wicket. You yelled, excitement in your tone. Steve was looking down but there was a smile on his face. It didn't matter to him that his team lost the match or that he lost a bet, all that mattered to him was that there was a smile present on your face.

Peter came running over to you and you both collided in a hug with chirpy squeals. Everyone started shaking hands. You walked up to Tony, "I guess a Stark does make good choices after all." He pulled you into a side hug and said, "We do, but you are a hell of a player kid. Good job, you did well. Now go claim your prize, the captain is waiting." and he shooed you away with a wave of his hands.

Steve came up to you with a grin on his face and held out his hand for you to shake, which you took. "So, Rogers. Where are we going for dinner?" "Why would we be going for dinner?" "Because you have to buy me whatever I want and what I want is a date with you, tonight." Should you start a counter for how many times you got Captain America to blush? Because once again Steve's cheeks started to turn pink. "So, Cap, am I gonna get what I want?" "We did make bet, didn't we?"

Just as you had predicted earlier, everyone slowly started leaving so that it was just you and Steve alone in the pool, at sunset. The atmosphere was serene. Being tired from playing all afternoon you just sat in the jacuzzi next to Steve, head resting on his chest while his arm was holding you. When you first came out to pool where almost everyone was, he stopped to take a good look at you. He would rarely get to see you in your swimsuit. You had tied your hair up, not wanting to get it wet since you'd have to wash it and were frankly too tired to do so. But now the sun had set, and it was time for your and Steve's date. It felt like it had already started while at the pool, but you both agreed to have a casual date.

You dressed comfortable and wore slip-on shoes. Steve was waiting for you by his bike. Offering you a helmet he said, "Is there any food you are craving right now?" you answered no and put the helmet on. "Where are we going?" Steve didn't reply. All you saw was a smirk before he pushed his helmet visor down hiding his beautiful face. He was in a pair of shorts and a t-shirt which was probably too tight for him, not that you minded.

You moved to sit behind him on his bike, one hand around his waist while the other rested on his thigh. And the two of you were off. After a 20-minute-long windy journey Steve stopped the bike in front of a local burger joint. They were a bit on the pricey side, but their food was delicious. You both got off and got some food.

Back on the bike he drove to a secluded location and stopped. You got off once again but this time in a grassy area. Walking slowly, you looked up to admire the stars that were now visible in the sky, like freckles dusted on a person's face which enhances their beauty even more. Your eyes moved back down to Steve when he called out your name.

"A picnic at night?" you questioned with a smile, "Now that's not your average date." Walking closer to him he holds his hand out to you and gently pulls you to the ground next to him. You and Steve unwrap your food and eat in silence, the tiredness from the day catching up to you. Until you out of nowhere you perk up with a random question, "Have you ever drawn the night sky?"

He looks at you a bit confused. So, you try to clarify. "Like have you ever drawn the moon, the stars, a comet flying in the background, maybe the shadows of some Christmas trees and mountains?" He seems to be understanding what you mean and chews quickly to reply.

"Yes, I have. I was sitting at my window when I got hit with sudden inspiration and pulled out my sketchbook. That night I not only drew the sky, but I also drew a picture of a very beautiful star which I also saw from my window." "How do you draw a star? Especially one which you saw outside." you asked, your mouth full. That made Steve chuckle, even more so when you covered your mouth to chew, hiding your grin.

"It was easy," he said, leaning in a bit closer. "I drew you." This time it was not the captain who blushed, it was you. You could feel your cheeks slightly hot and faintly hurting. Since your hands were filled with food, you leaned forward rested your head on his chest with a soft thump.

You softly squealed into his chest which elicited a deep laugh from him, whose vibrations you could feel. You looked up at him and he pulled you closer with his free hand. "I draw you quite often. Every time I look at you, I feel inspired to draw your portrait and have the urge to frame it on my bedroom walls. My favourite picture of you that I have drawn it one where you are laughing. I added a flower to it, an amaryllis tucked behind your ear."

At this point you were just looking at him with utmost adoration. He was looking straight while talking but your eyes were glued to him and how he looked while talking about drawing you. When he finished and set his gaze back on you, the two ended up just looking at each other. The electricity could be felt and the urge to move up a little was there, it didn't feel like the right time, so you settled for tilting your forehead against his, noses touching.

The moment felt like it was going forever but eventually you both finished eating, packed up and drove back to the compound. He walked you to your room and just before leaving you he gave you a soft kiss on your cheek before bidding you goodnight. Just before he disappeared behind his own door you said, "I enjoyed spending time with you Steve. I wanna do it again."

"How about we make a bet?"

Rest assured you were squealing into your pillow for the rest of the night.

A/N- So after working on this forever (September 20, 2022) I have finally been able to post. I am in the middle of writing 4 different posts rn and have started exams (i have a paper in a few hours). Just wanted to gift my 60-something followers a fic so that they know I have not died.

Apologies if i accidentally mentioned any specific pronouns for the reader, please let me know if i do, i will make the changes.

[shininglikeyoursmile]

I got you....💞💞💞

Pairing: Steve rogers x female reader

Summary: Steve is there when you are feeling down.

Word count : around 500.

Warning: fluff!!! Mention of "Daddy " like one time . Established relationship. Lemme know if I need to add more. Use of pet names.

A/n : Steve is my comfort character . He is 🥺🥺🥺🥺 my daddy . I love him a lotttt 🥰🥰🥰.

lemme know how you feel about it❤❤❤.

Comments, reblogs and feedback is most appreciated 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰❤❤❤❤☺☺😚😚😚😚. Enjoy!

Steve knows . Like the back of his hand he knows.  Always does. The slight tremor in your voice , how your eyes are slightly red as you try to hold back the tears , how you are not answering and just shrugging his questions.  He knows .

 "Angel " his  soft voice  cuts the haze you are in . Through your blurry vision,  you see him as he wraps his arms around you . "Shhh.. baby I got you . Daddy got you angel " he whispers, rubbing your back gently.  Trailing his hand under your shirt , he caresses the skin softly.  " breath baby " he urges, guiding you to bed . He lays you down before making himself comfortable.  

He guides you to lay on his chest . " My pretty girl " he says cupping your face and then leans down to kiss your forehead.  Once , twice , thrice until all you feel is his soft lips grazing your forehead and his hand making soothing circles on your back . How happy he is to have you , he can't say it in words. 

Your soft breathing gets him out of his thoughts.  Asleep.  He smiles to himself as he gazes down at your sleeping form . His pretty angel . Thinks too much . You wrap your arms around him and hum softly as he roams his hand in your hair.  The motion earns him a soft hum from your sleeping form and you grasp him a little tighter . He smiles to himself at the gesture you made . 

How happy he is to have you , he can't say it in words.  Adjusting you softly he positions himself so you are comfortable . He let his gaze linger on your closed eyes , parted lips and the slight furrow in your eyebrows.  Adorable angel . He smooths down your forehead,  making your face to relax and fall deeper in sleep , in his arms , in his warmth and maybe a little more in his love ; if that's even possible.  

"I love you. " he says more to himself as he kisses your forehead one more time before pulling you closer.  His pretty , adorable and cute angel.