#steverogersforsure
Steve Rogers x Reader
Summary:You patch things up with Steve, but will Laurie take you back?
Word Count: 1300
Warnings:Language, fluff, angst.
A/N:Well, this is not my best, but I still like this one. Hope you guys do too! Also, not my gif. Credit to the owner. You know the drill.
He answered after one ring. “Hello?” God, you missed his voice.
“Steve,” you breathed, tears still streaming down your face. It was like a dam had broken and now your eyes were flooded. Your voice was shaking, and you had to speak quietly so you wouldn’t cry anymore. “It’s me.”
It was quiet on his end for a moment or two, and then you heard him sigh. Was he relieved? “Thank God.” He said breathlessly, and you could almost picture him running his hands through his hair.
“And you’re sure?” Steve asked for about the thousandth time.
“Yes,” You insisted, grabbing his hands. You stood in your living room, by the front door. As soon as Steve had walked in you had rushed over to him. “Yes, I’m sure. It’ll be hard, but I’d rather see you a little bit at a time then not at all.” You laced your fingers together with his.
He grinned slowly, his eyes nearly sparkling as he looked down at you. You could almost hear the ocean when you looked in his eyes. “Okay?” you said after he didn’t say anything, squeezing his hands gently to make sure he was still alive.
“Okay,” he chuckled, bending down slightly to kiss you. You helped him fill the space by standing just slightly on your toes, your lips meeting in the middle. God, I missed this, you thought, moving your lips against his. Soon his hands let go of yours and traveled to your waist, pulling you closer. You reached up and wrapped your arms around his neck, not opening your eyes or breaking the connection between him for one second. He lifted you up off the ground and spun you around for a second, causing you to giggle into his mouth.
Finally he set you down, and you parted, grinning at him with slightly flushed cheeks. “I missed you so much,” you said, pulling him more into your apartment.
“I missed you too, doll,” he replied, chuckling. “I thought about coming into the store a few times, and buying a phone case again. But I figured you would need your space.”
You smiled as you remembered the first time you had met him. You just knew him as Captain America then, this man who fought to protect the world and had been frozen for like, a hundred years (not a hundred, but you didn’t know the exact number). But now, you knew him as Steve, this kind, wonderful, amazing man who swept you off your feet and made you feel so happy, and safe, and invincible.
You spent the night holed up in your apartment with Steve, catching up on the last month you’d missed with him. He told you what he could about all the missions he’d been on, and shared a few stories of being recognized in public. You told him about your fight with Laurie, and how you felt so guilty about leaving things the way they were with her.
“Well, then, you have to talk to her,” Steve said. You were sitting on the couch with him now, talking. He reached over and brushed your hair behind your ears. “You guys have been friends too long just to let it fizzle out like that.”
You thought it was sweet how much he cared, and moved so that you weren’t facing him anymore; instead, your back was pressed against his chest, legs extending across the couch. He pressed a kiss against the top of your head and you could feel his chest rising and falling- steady and sure.
“You’re probably right,” you sighed, closing your eyes. He ran his fingers through your hair. “Tomorrow,” you promised, letting out a yawn. “I’ll talk to her tomorrow.”
You stood in front of Laurie’s apartment, an olive branch in hand. Not an actual olive branch, but a peace offering of sorts. It was a plastic bag full of Laurie’s favorite candy and makeup from work. You glanced down at your phone. A text from Steve helped you work up the courage to knock.
You can do this, doll. Just talk to her.
-Steve
You took in a deep breath, and, with your free hand, knocked on the door.
After a few moments, Laurie answered. She frowned when she saw it was you, and just stood there. She didn’t say anything, just stared at you with her arms crossed over her chest. You swallowed the lump in your throat.
“I, uh, I brought you this,” you said, handing her the bag. She glanced down in to it and, after moments of consideration, allowed you to come inside.
“I’m sorry I was such an asshole,” you spoke again, biting your lip. “I shouldn’t have taken all my frustrations with Steve out on you, and I shouldn’t have said what I did. I was being a bad friend, and you were being a good friend by calling me out on my bullshit.”
You sighed. You’d said your piece, and now all you had to do was wait for Laurie to forgive you… or decide she never wanted to see you again.
After minutes- literally, minutes- of agonizing silence, Laurie rolled her eyes. “You swear you’re done acting like a lunatic?” she asked, looking at you.
“Yes,” you said, smiling softly. “Yes. Lunacy over. They’ve released me from the asylum.”
“Well, then, get over here, you dumb-ass,” Laurie said, opening her arms. You stepped forward and hugged your best friend, feeling all the pieces finally fall into place.
After the hug, you and Laurie spent the evening watching your favorite movies, quoting the lines you knew so well. She ordered Thai food and pizza and you pigged out with her on food you didn’t need, but damn did it taste good. You split a bottle of wine with her and sang stupid songs at the top of your lungs, and you were so happy to have your best friend back.
The next day, you met with Steve at the grocery store. He only had an hour to spare today to see you, and you had to go shopping for the week before you went to work. You spotted the faded blue baseball cap and knew it was him.
Holding the basket in one hand and Steve’s hand in the other, the two of you walked down the aisles and you occasionally would toss something in the basket. You held a conversation with your boyfriend, talking to him about stuff that didn’t really matter. Then finally, as you approached the produce section, he brought up something that did matter.
“So, Stark- Tony, I mean - is hosting this big, stupid party to celebrate the Avengers being together for three years,” he said, and you chuckled to yourself. “What?” He asked, nudging you with his shoulder.
“That’s so sweet,” you said, grabbing an apple and putting it in the basket. “It’s like an anniversary party. An Aveng-iversary.” You laughed, because you thought you were hilarious.
Steve didn’t. He just shook his head and rolled his eyes. “You are insane,” he said, scoffing at you lightly. “But as I was saying, he’s having this big party, and he told us we could invite whoever we want. And I want you.” He stopped, then scrunched his face slightly. “To be there. I want you to come with me. It’s next Saturday. Can you make it?”
You thought of the work schedule and after a moment or two, nodded. “Yeah, I can make it,” You said, grinning.
“Good,” He said, kissing the side of your head. “Cause my coworkers can’t wait to meet you.”
“Coworkers?” You scoffed. “You mean, the rest of the Avengers?”
Steve nodded, and it dawned on you. A night meeting the rest of the Avengers? Holy shit. You were in trouble.
Tags:
@whiskeyandwashitape@thelostswan@theonethingforyouu@alilianamendez@superwholockian5ever
Steve Rogers x Reader
**I can’t do a summary on this one without spoiling everything. If you’ve read the first three parts then you know what’s going on.
Word Count: 1503
Warnings:Language, angst.
A/N:Ok, I’ve had so much fun writing this! Thanks to all who have read it! Give me some feedback, too. I like hearing from you. Not my gif, credit to the owner.
“You guys only dated for two months - it’s not like you were engaged or anything.”Laurie sat with you on your couch, sharing a pint of mint chocolate chip ice cream with you.
You nodded. “I know. It’s just that I was really falling for him, and I… I don’t know. I just miss him, that’s all.”
It had been a week since you and Steve went ‘on a break’.
“So, why don’t you just call him, then?” Laurie said, digging her spoon into the ice cream. “If you’re ‘on a break’ you can just end the break, right?”
“It’s not that simple,” you sighed, wishing it was. “He doesn’t want to be with me if I can’t handle him leaving all the time to save the world. And I don’t know if I can handle that. I mean, I love that we aren’t a super clingy couple, and I don’t want him up my butt all the time, but…” you sighed again. “I just want to see him. And I want to know that I’m a priority in his life.”
Laurie shook her head. “If you sigh again, I’m going to scoop your eyeballs out,” she joked, waving her spoon around before scooping some more ice cream in her mouth.
“Can we talk about something else?” you asked, and Laurie nodded.
After a moment of silence, your friend spoke up again. “So how was the sex?”
You nearly choked on your ice cream. “Excuse me?”
“The sex- with Captain America. How was it?” Laurie pressed, raising a brow. “He’s a super soldier, sex with him must have been super.”
“I wouldn’t know,” you said, and it was Laurie’s turn to be surprised.
“You never fucked him?”
“No,” you said, leaning back against the couch cushions. “We were taking things slow, and… and we never really had an opportunity to. Even if we did, he’d probably have to leave halfway through,” you laughed at the thought.
“Ew,” Laurie laughed, scrunching her nose up in disgust. She shook her head for a moment. “Do you think you’ll ever see him again?” She asked, setting her spoon on the coffee table.
“I don’t know, maybe,” you said, shrugging. “I miss him like crazy, but if the world is always going to come first, I just don’t think I can be with him.”
Laurie, for once, didn’t have a comment. But she looked like she did, like she was holding something back. “What?” you asked, noticing this.
She shook her head, giving you a tight-lipped smile. “Nothing,” she said.
You gave her an incredulous look. “It’s not nothing- what is it?” you asked.
Laurie let out a huff of breath, and looked at you like you were an idiot. “I just think you’re being stupid. You’re crazy about this guy, and duh, his job is going to come before you. It’d be different if he were a lawyer or a teacher, but he’s a superhero, Y/N. It’s not like he can just let aliens invade Earth or whatever he protects us from.”
“You don’t think I know that?” you said, all of sudden feeling very defensive about this whole thing. Who was she to judge you? Tell you that you were being stupid? “You don’t think I’ve thought about that, and felt guilty about thinking I was more important than his job?” You stood up, slamming the lid back on the ice cream.
“If you were really guilty about it, you’d be okay with him leaving all the time,” Laurie pointed out, her voice calm and cool compared to yours.
“Shut up!” your voice raised as you tossed the ice cream onto the coffee table. “You don’t know how it is- you don’t know what it’s like to be completely into this guy who always has to leave. Always.”
“Look, I get it,” Laurie said, standing up and grabbing her purse. “But you’re being selfish. Steve has a job to do, and you should appreciate the time you get with him and stop dwelling on the fact that he’s not around twenty-four seven. And, do you know what I would give to have what you and Steve have? I’ve seen the way you look at each other. No one has ever looked at me like that.” She scoffed. “I get why you’re mad. But don’t take it out on me.” She dug her keys out of her bag.
“Laurie, wait-”
“Call me when you’re done acting crazy,” she said, rolling her eyes before walking out the door.
This wasn’t like you - blowing up on Laurie and acting all self-centered with Steve. You weren’t like that, right? You kept your anger under control and you didn’t let doubt run your life, but… But something happened over the last few months and now, things were different. You were different.
You got a text two weeks after your fight with Laurie. It was from Steve.
I left my copy of the catcher in the rye at your place. Can I come get it, and I will give you back your key also?
-Steve
You couldn’t help but smile. He always ended his texts with his name, even though you always told him he didn’t need to. That people receiving messages from him would know it was him. He was such a dork sometimes.
You were at work when you received it, so you quickly typed back a reply.
Yes. I get off at 8. Anytime after then will be fine.
The past few weeks had been rough. You hadn’t talked to Laurie or Steve, and your heart hurt without both of them. You spent a lot of time watching reruns of your favorite TV show, and the amount of ice cream eaten had been a lot more than usual. You missed Laurie. You missed laughing with her about the stupid things you did in high school and going through each other’s clothes and talking about everything with her. You didn’t have anyone to vent to.
And, more than anything, you missed Steve. You missed the electricity between the two of you when you touched, and the way his lips seemed to fit into yours like puzzle pieces. You missed how you didn’t even have to go out with him- the two of you could just relax on your couch and be totally content. You missed those baby blue eyes, with so much history in them. You missed him so much.
Maybe Laurie was right. Maybe the little bit of time you got with Steve was enough. Maybe you could deal with him always running off, as long as he came back to you.
Fuck, you thought, shoving your phone back into your pocket as you made your way through the housewares department. Was I wrong all along?
The rest of your shift seemed to drag on. Like the universe knew that you wanted to leave, so it slowed time down just for kicks.
You nearly got a ticket driving back to your apartment.
Your bag slung over your shoulder, your hair disheveled from a long day at work, your half-eaten sandwich in a plastic bag. You were a sore sight, and all you wanted was to see Steve. You knew what you had to do - apologize, and kiss and make up.
Everything would be alright.
You opened the door, expecting to see Steve on the other side. Instead, you were met with the darkness of your apartment, empty of anyone that could bring you happiness again. After setting your bag down, you noticed something on the table by the door. A note, with the key you’d given Steve sitting on top.
Y/N,
This past month has been hell without you. But you haven’t made any move to contact me, no signs that you want to make this work. So I have to give up, right? If there’s really no way I could change your mind, it’s fine. I’ll be fine. I lived this long without you. I can do it again.
I can’t guarantee that you’ll be number one on my list. The world needs me, Y/N, and I can’t just back down from anything threatening the safety of this planet. SHIELD is my job, and I can’t quit on them. But once all that is said and done, I promise, you will be my number one girl.
If you are willing to try again with me, give me a call. If not, well, I’ll be sad, but there’s nothing I can do about it.
- Cap (Steve)
All the emotions that you’d had built up over the past month or so just sort of collapsed, and soon your eyes flooded with tears. You couldn’t help it. Things were horrible with Laurie, and you missed Steve like crazy. But he wanted you. And you wanted him, more than anything. Things were different with him than with any other guy you’d dated. He was different. He was special.
You didn’t even bother pulling yourself together before dialing his number.
Tags:
Steve Rogers x Reader
Summary:Things with Steve have been going great, but what happens when you start to feel like you’re not a priority?
Word Count: 1921
Warnings:Just some angst, little bit of language.
A/N:Okay, I’m really proud of this. I thought I wasn’t going to be able to crank out something that wasn’t one hundred percent fluffy, but I did it. Let me know if you liked it!! Also, letting @whiskeyandwashitape&@thelostswan this exists!!
Not my gif, credit to the owner.
This was getting ridiculous.
So far, in your opinion, at least, you’d been a very supportive, easy-going girlfriend. It had been a little over two months with Steve, and you really were falling for him. You loved the way the corners of his mouth flickered upward when you said something stupid, and his dumb, old-fashioned jokes. You loved how the longer you looked into those deep, oceanic eyes, the more lost you got. You loved how he did things just for the sake of being good. And you knew that dating a super soldier was going to be complicated- and it wasn’t his fault. He couldn’t help it that terrorists and aliens and bad men existed and that it fell on his shoulders to take care of it.
That one night - that date at your house that had ended with the two of you sleeping on your couch - had been wonderful. But since then, no date between you and Steve had ever really ended.He would get a phone call or a text or something, and just give you that look, like, I don’t want to go but I have to. And you would insist that everything was fine, that you understood that he had a job to do.
You finally cracked one night when he took you to a carnival. It had been lots of fun - he wore sunglasses and a hat so he wouldn’t get recognized, and won you this cute little red, white, and blue teddy bear. You split a churro with him, and he kissed you at the top of the Ferris wheel. It was very sweet, very When-Harry-Met-Sally-Sleepless-In-Seattle-Rom-Com cute.
You were walking hand-in-hand with him, towards the cotton candy booth, when it happened. His phone beeped, and he glanced down at it. You’d grown accustomed to silently praying every time he looked at his phone - praying that it wasn’t SHIELD or Nick Fury or someone in danger. And he gave you that look, lips slightly pursed and eyebrows knitted in a frustrated kind of way. “I’m sorry, Doll. Duty calls,” he said, shoving his phone back into his pocket and releasing your hand from his.
“Yeah, whatever,” you muttered, running a hand through your hair.
Steve looked slightly taken aback. Usually you were understanding, and you said you weren’t upset and he had to do what he had to do. But this was the second time this week this had happened, and what felt like the millionth time since you’d started dating him. You couldn’t help but be irritated.
“Y/N,” he sighed, looking at you. “I can’t not go. I have to go.”
“I know,” you snapped, rolling your eyes. “Believe me, I know.”
“Don’t be mad,” He said, eyes fluttering towards the exit. “Please, don’t be mad. I’ll… I’ll call you when we’re done, okay?”
“Whatever, fine,” you said, turning your back to him. And when you turned around again, he was gone.
Three days passed until you heard from Steve again.
It was four in the morning, and you woke up to the sound of your phone ringing. Disoriented, and partly blindly since you didn’t have your contacts in, you pulled the charger out and looked at the screen. It was Steve, calling you. What the hell?
You answered it with a hoarse and slightly incoherent, “Hello?”
“Hey, Y/N,” Steve’s voice relieved you. You often went a few days without hearing from him when he went on missions, but you couldn’t help but worry about him. “I just wanted to let you know that we’re all alright. I’m on a plane right now, heading back.”
You slowly sat up, and reached over to turn on your bedside lamp. Even though you were kind of angry at him, you were happy he was alright. “Well, that’s good,” you said with a yawn, leaning against the headboard.
“Oh, god. Did I wake you up?” Steve asked.
“Well, yeah, it’s…” you lifted the phone from your ear to check the time, “It’s 4:17 here, but, I mean…” You rubbed at your eyes. “It’s fine. I’m glad you’re alright.”
“Yeah, me too. So, look, about the other night-”
“You know what, Steve? Just forget about it, okay?” You said, crossing your legs Indian style and pulling a blanket closer to you.
“No, I can’t forget about it, Y/N. You’re unhappy, and I want to fix it.”
“You can’t fix it,” You said, shaking your head. “And honestly, I’m too tired to even talk about it, alright?” This was the first time you’d ever been mad at him, and you didn’t want to deal with it.
“Okay,” he said, sounding defeated and submissive. You hated that he sounded like that. You hated that you were the reason why. “Well, do you want to go back to sleep? I’ll let you go if you want.”
“Actually, yeah,” you said, sighing. “I have a big day at work tomorrow- buy one, get one half-off on heels. Gonna be packed.” You yawned again.
“When do you get off?” He asked, a hint of sadness in his voice. He hated you being mad at him almost as much as you did.
“Six. Come over anytime after that, if you can, alright?”
“Okay. Get some sleep, Doll.”
“I’ll try. Bye, Steve.”
You didn’t sleep.
Work that day was awful, and not just because of the sale and all the people. You couldn’t stop thinking about Steve, and about all the times he’d ditched you to go be a superhero. Your head was in the wrong place, and you couldn’t focus on anything. You even knocked over a display of shoes that one of your subordinates had spent a whole hour putting together.
You were drained, and over it all by the end of your shift. You just wanted to go home and shower and sleep for three days.
When you opened the door to your apartment, you saw Steve sitting on the couch, reading a book. You had given him a key in case of emergencies. You let a lazy, exhausted smile rise to your face. “Hey,” you said quietly, shutting the door and locking it behind you. It was hard to remember that you were mad at him when you missed him so much.
He shut his book and looked at you, that goofy grin on his face. “Hey, Doll,” he said, standing up and walking over to you. He looked cautious, like you were a ticking time bomb. You shook your head and took a step towards him, giving a long, well-needed hug.
“I missed you,” you sighed, dropping your bag at your feet and burying your head in his chest. “I was worried about you.”
He stroked your hair for a moment, and you just stood there, breathing each other in. He smelled like Old Spice.
“I missed you, too, Y/N.”
Finally, you pulled away, and took in a deep breath. Your heart hurt without him, but it didn’t change the fact that you didn’t feel like a priority in his life.
You crossed the room and sat on the couch, feeling relieved to finally be off your feet for the day. Steve sat on the opposite end of the couch from you, leaning against the armrest.
“Can we talk now, Y/N?” He asked, turning to look at you. You crossed your legs, leaning back against the couch.
You sighed. “Yeah,” you said, already wishing this conversation was over.
Steve took in a deep breath, and ran a hand through his hair. “Do you… do you want to break up with me?” he asked, quietly, scared. Like a kid. Fuck, you thought.
“No!” you exclaimed, eyes widening. You grabbed his hand across the couch. “God, no, I don’t want to break up with you. I-I… I’m just…” You groaned, and ran your free hand over your face. “I’m just irritated, because I feel like I’m not a priority, and I know there’s nothing you can do about it. You have a job to do and you have to do, and I feel soguilty about being mad at you for it, but I am, y’know? And maybe I’m not even mad at you. Maybe you’re just the only person I can take it out on.”
“You can be mad at me,” said Steve, pulling his hand away from yours and tangling them in his hair. “I don’t want you to feel like you can’t be mad at me. It’s healthy for couples to argue - I read that somewhere, I think.”
“Yeah, but I don’t want to be mad at you, Steve,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest. “I don’t get very much time with you when you’re around, and I don’t want to spend it fighting with you, y’know?”
He nodded. “I’m sorry I’m never around, Y/N,” he said, sighing and looking over at you. “But you know I have to-”
“I know,” you cut him off, standing up and walking into the kitchen to grab a bottle of water from the fridge. “I know. I’ve heard the speech a million times, Steve. You have to protect the people. You have to do what’s right. And I know you can’t, but I wish you could just blow it off sometimes, and no one had to die or anything for you to be able to spend some time with me.”
He followed you into the kitchen and leaned against the doorway as you scoured leftovers for something that seemed appetizing. “Are you ever going to be okay with this?” he asked as you settled on the rest of the sesame chicken you’d had yesterday.
You opened the lid of the Tupperware container and put it in the microwave for forty-five seconds. “I don’t know, Steve. I guess I saw this coming in, and I figured I would just get used to it. But it’s hard, you know? Like, I drop everything for you when you’re in town, and I just feel like I’m the only one trying sometimes.”
“There’s nothing I can do about that, Y/N-”
“I know!” you exclaimed, groaning out of frustration. “God, I know, Steve! You’ve been telling me the same things for the past two months- it’s like you have a script memorized for when you have to leave. And I feel so bad for being angry at you for it, but I am. I’m angry, okay?” The microwave dinged, but you made no move to open it.
“So, what, then?” He asked, irritated, crossing his arms over his chest. You took a sip of your water. “Do you want to call it quits or something?”
“I don’t know,” you sighed, sinking to the floor and leaning against a cabinet, rattling the door with your weight. “I…God. It’s impossible for me not to be happy with you. And we have such a good time together. But I can’t decide if…” you trailed off, deciding not to say it.
“You can’t decide if it’s worth it.” He finished for you, and you looked up at him, nodding slowly in response.
He shook his head. “How about we take a break then?” He said, and your eyes widened. “It makes me sad thinking about not talking to you, but I think you just need some time to think. We both do.” You said nothing. “Call me when you can decide, okay, Y/N?” You just stared at him.
And then he was gone. This time he wasn’t coming back.
Part 1 |Part 3 |Part 4 |Part 5
Steve Rogers x Reader
Summary:Your second date with Steve doesn’t go exactly according to plan.
Word Count: 1302
Warnings:A bit of Steve-disapproved language, and lots o’ fluff.
A/N:I was so happy to see how many likes and reblogs part 1 got! Thanks to everyone who is reading this! Let me know if you actually want a part 3 to this or something different. Make requests, give me prompts. Gif is not mine– credit to the owner.
“Motherfucker!”
You looked at your hand, which was bright red from where you’d just burned it on the frying pan. Immediately, you dashed over to the sink and ran it under cool water, letting out a heavy sigh of relief. It was a small burn- nothing a little Neosporin and a bandage couldn’t fix.
It was probably a good thing Steve hadn’t arrived yet. Get all your ‘Motherfuckers’ out now, you reminded yourself.
This was your second date- you, cooking dinner for him, at your apartment. The first date had been dinner and a movie- well, dinner and half of a movie. Steve had gotten a call to go to work in the middle of it, and had to leave you all by yourself in that theater. And you were slightly irritated, yeah, but at the same time, you understood that ‘work’ for him was saving the planet from an alien invasion or rescuing hostages from a pirate-raided aircraft carrier. So you just reminded yourself that he wouldn’t leave unless it was important.
You were making him homemade pizza, an easy recipe you had learned from your mom while growing up. After patching up your burn, you turned your attention back to the pizza. You had the crust just slightly baked already, and now it was time to top it. Shit, you thought, scratching your head inquisitively. What does he like on pizza?
You glanced at the clock- there was about fifteen minutes before he was supposed to arrive. You thought of all the possible toppings you had in your fridge, and just decided he could pick what he wanted. So you grabbed the spinach and the peppers and olives, pepperoni, ham, cheese, and pizza sauce all out of the refrigerator, and assembled them on the table next to the partially-baked crust. Realizing you still looked like garbage, you rushed into your room, ripping off your sweats and changing into a pair of jeans, and a not-covered-in-flour t-shirt. You double checked your hair, and applied light makeup just to cover a few blemishes.
Then you buzzed around the living room, straightening out the throw pillows on the couch and the magazines on the coffee table. You wanted things to look nice, and who could blame you? A superhero was coming over.
After making sure everything was all straightened out- and almost exactly on time- there was a knock at the door. You took in a deep breath, walked over to the door, and opened it. “Hey!” You said, maybe sounding a little too excited.
On the other side of the door, there was Steve. He was so cute. He had on a plaid shirt tucked in to his slacks. Everything was so clean-cut and adorable.
“Hello,” he chuckled, and you stepped aside to let him in. “Wow, it smells really good in here.” You shut the door and smiled. “What are you making again?”
“Pizza,” you replied, making your way into the kitchen. He followed you. “And I realized I never asked what you liked on pizza, so I just thought we could top it together,” you leaned against the table in the kitchen, presenting your topping station.
Steve smiled slowly, and your heart fluttered. You’d definitely gotten more comfortable around him since your first, and second, meetings. However, he still made you feel nervous, but in a really good way. Like you were constantly on a hot-air balloon ten-thousand feet in the air.
“I’ve never actually made pizza before,” he admitted.
“First time for everything, then, I guess?”
You’d let him pick the music, and of course he’d decided on some old-school, smooth jazz. The pizza was in the oven- topped with literally everything you’d put on the table- and now the two of you were sitting on the couch, just talking and waiting for the timer to go off.
“I feel like I’m in an elevator,” you laughed as a saxophone solo ended.
Steve laughed, shaking his head. “You can change it,” he said, glancing over at the speaker.
“No, I like it. It’s nice.”
You listened to the music- it was kind of relaxing and you could definitely see this lulling you to sleep.
“Did you have to work today?” Steve asked, and you shook your head.
“No, I get Saturdays off. Did…” You trailed off.
“What?” he asked, poking you in the leg.
“Nothing,” you said, shaking your head lightly.
“No, you were going to say something. What?” he asked again.
You shook your head again. “Well, I was just going to ask if you worked today. But I figured you probably couldn’t tell me.”
Steve knitted his brows together, and sighed. “I mean, yeah, you’re right. But I can tell you some things, I think. As long as you swear not to tell anyone.”
“I swear,” You said, and held up your pinky for good measure. He linked pinkies with you, smiling goofily, and you swore.
“We had an intense training today- the Avengers,” Steve said. You nodded. “Just a lot of working out and throwing things- nothing crazy.”
“Right, right, nothing crazy,” You deadpanned, rolling your eyes playfully. “Probably just, you know, tossing train cars in the air and catching them, and shooting off high-tech bazooka guns.”
Steve laughed. “I think you would be pleasantly surprised with what we actuallydo to train.”
“Then I’ll just keep my version of it,” you said.
“I thought I set the timer for twenty minutes!” You exclaimed, frustrated, as you held a burned pizza in your oven-mitt-covered hands. Sighing, you set the pan down on the stove and crossed your arms over your chest.
“It’s alright, Y/N,” Steve said, leaning against the counter.
“No,” you huffed, looking at the settings on the oven. “It’s not- I’ve made this pizza dough a billion times. I need to know what went wrong.”
“And they say I’m dramatic,” Steve muttered, and you glared at him. “Woah, sorry,” he said, his eyes widening slightly. “Scary Y/N.”
You stuck out your tongue playfully before looking at the oven again. After some ‘intense’ investigating, you realized that the temperature of the oven was wrong. Instead of 350 degrees, you had somehow set it to 450.
“Dammit,” you murmured, sighing heavily. You looked over at Steve, realizing that pizza-induced anger was probably not super attractive to him. “Sorry,” you said, a disappointed tone present in your voice. “I just wanted tonight to be special, and I wanted to impress you, and cook for you, and have a nice dinner.”
He shook his head, taking a step forward. “Tonight already was special,” he said, reaching down and grabbing your hand. A million fireworks lit off- this was the first time he’d held your hand before. “You don’t need to try to impress me, Y/N,” he said, smiling down at you. “I really, really like spending time with you, homemade pizza or not.”
His hand was like twice as big as yours as he interlocked your fingers, and pressed a kiss to your forehead. Your bodies were so close- you’d not been this into someone in a long time. The jazz was playing in the other room, and it didn’t matter that your whole apartment smelled like burned pizza. Everything was alright, and you felt safe here, one hand locked onto Steve’s, the other wrapped around his torso. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to let him take care of you, so long as you could take care of him from time to time.
You ended up ordering Dominoes’ and cuddling on the couch, your head against his chest and his arm around your shoulders. He didn’t have to leave halfway through, which was nice, and you fell asleep on his chest, the sounds of jazz and his big, strong heartbeat lulling you to sleep.
Part 2 |Part 3 |Part 4 |Part 5
Steve Rogers x Reader
Summary:Meet-cute and awkward firsts with Steve.
Word Count: 1672
Warnings:None really. Just fluffy cuteness.
A/N:Hope you like it! Tell me if I’m doing this right, would ya? I’m kind of new to Tumblr. Also, this is kinda AU, as if Civil War never happened. I’m taking requests if you have any! Not my gif, also. Credit to the owner.
Working at a department store had its downsides- actually, when you added it all up, it was mostly downsides. People were rude and pushy, and shoved expired coupons in your face, and demanded to know if you had their size in the back. There was no back. Literally everything in the store was all the stock you had, but for some reason, every customer had this ridiculous fantasy that below every department store was a secret department store that had all the sizes and colors of every item. If only.
Today had been especially annoying. You had been yelled at multiple times by multiple people, one of which was your boss. You had put the purses in the wrong spot, but when you moved them, they were still in the wrong spot. All this stupid, ridiculous crap you didn’t want to put up with, but you did.
You were working at a register now, taking deep breath after deep breath to try and get yourself together. Usually you were pretty good at just brushing off everyone being incredibly rude to you, but today it was hitting pretty hard. It was just one little thing after another, and it was building up.
A man came up to the register with a phone case in hand, and you scanned it and placed it into a bag. “Will that be all for you today?” you asked, with your scripted, fake-friendly voice in tow.
“Yes, ma’am, that’s all.” Said a deep, confident voice that you faintly recognized. You looked up to see a slightly familiar face. Blue eyes, blond hair. It was weird seeing him without that red, white, and blue get-up on, but yeah. It was Captain America.
Your eyes widened as you took the twenty-dollar bill from him, your mouth slightly agape. You didn’t take your eyes off him as the register opened and you blindly grabbed random bills and change. You handed him whatever it was you grabbed, and finally, his receipt. “Here you… go,” you said quietly, grabbing the bag and handing that over as well.
Captain America looked down into his hands, and then back up at you. “Miss, are you alright?” He asked, examining you like you were a crazy person.
You cleared your throat, tucking some hair behind your ear. “Yeah… yeah, I’m fine. I’m totally… I’m great. I’m fine.” you stammered. “Why?”
“Well, because you gave me fifty-six dollars back for a seventeen-dollar phone case.” he pointed out, glancing from you to the money in his hand, then back to you. He gathered all the money he didn’t need and gave it back to you. “You’re not having a stroke, are you?” he asked, concern present in his voice.
You shook your head, and shoved the bills back in the drawer. “Alright then,” he said, smiling at you awkwardly. “I will, uh… I’ll be on my way then.”
You thought that would be the first, and last, time you would ever see him. That weird, awkward, starstruck exchange would be it. You’d never see Captain America again. You were so, so wrong about that.
It was about six months later. You were still working at that department store, but, luckily, you were promoted to manager. It wasn’t as bad as it used to be- you got to tell people where to go, and got paid a little more. You didn’t completely despise your job anymore, which was great.
But your next encounter with Captain America was not at the department store.
You were at a marathon for charity with your best friend, Laurie. You had been friends with Laurie since grade school, and your relationship with her had always been the same- she dragged you to clubs and parties and social events and you protested and said you didn’t want to, but eventually ended up having a good time. The marathon was one of those instances. You really didn’t want to go, mostly because huge crowds freaked you out and made you feel all panicky. But Laurie had convinced you to join a water stand with her at the eighteen-mile mark.
It was a beautiful summer day, all warm accompanied by a light breeze. There were over three thousand people participating in this marathon, and you couldn’t even imagine running a mile,let alone twenty-six. But the money from all the entry fees and donors was going to two or three different charities- a children’s hospital, an animal rescue foundation, and some sort of organization that helped veterans and soldiers and stuff like that. It was a big marathon, and you thought it was a great cause. But there was a ton of people.
You stood off the side of the path with Laurie, behind a table that had a big ten-gallon water jug on it and a whole bunch of little cups. Laurie kept cheering on everyone who ran by, and even flirted with a couple of guys who stopped to chat for a moment.
“This isn’t a singles bar, Laur,” you pointed out after a redheaded man jogged off to rejoin the stream of runners.
Laurie looked at you and placed a hand on her hip. “Anywhere’s fair game, Y/N,” she said, tossing her curly blonde hair behind her shoulder. “You never know when you’re going to run into the man of your dreams.” She paused, and then smiled happily. “Pun totally intended.”
You shook your head, looking at an older gentlemen who approached the table. You handed him a cup of water and he smiled at you gratuitously. “Well,” you continued after the man left, running a hand over your ponytail. “Do you have to be in flirt mode allthe time?” you asked, knowing exactly what her answer was going to be.
“Oh, shut up,” Laurie teased, bumping shoulders with you before filling some more cups up.
You looked out at all the runners, watching them slow down as they grew tired. Mostly everyone at this point was simply jogging, covered in sweat. But as you looked down the path at the oncoming flow of runners, you noticed one man taking long, confident, energetic strides as he came towards you.
The man stopped at the booth, small beads of sweat glistening off his forehead. He was tall and muscular and- holy shit. It was Captain America. Your eyebrows furrowed slightly as you watched him pick a cup of water off of the table and down it in one sip. This was unreal! You couldn’t believe you were seeing him again.
“Thanks for the water, ladies,” he said, looking at Laurie, and then at you. He turned to jog off, but then looked back at you again. You could feel his eyes on you as you stared at your feet. He took a step towards the table once again. “Do I know you?” he asked, his eyebrows knitting together.
You shook your head, your cheeks blushing as you refused to make eye contact. “No, I… I do know you,” he insisted, crossing his arms over his chest and examining you. “I’ve definitely seen you before- I…”
Laurie looked between you and the Captain. “Oh, my god, I can’t take it,” she mumbled, then looked at the Captain. “She works at Macy’s, Cap! Remember when she gave you all the money in her drawer as change?” she prompted, and you glared at your friend. “What?” she asked, putting her hands up in surrender. “I was just trying to help.”
“Yes!” Captain America exclaimed. “Yes, that’s what I remember you from. I would never forget such a wonderful interaction.” He teased, and you looked up to see a playful glimmer in his baby blue eyes. You blushed. “What’s your name?” he asked.
“Y/N,” you said, locking your hands together awkwardly. “And I apologize for that. It was not one of my best moments.”
“Well, you shouldn’t be sorry,” he said, running a hand through his slightly sweaty hair. “I thought it was kind of cute how you couldn’t even get one word out.” He chuckled.
If it was possible for your cheeks to turn even redder, that’s what happened. You tucked some hair behind your ear and bit your lip. Why did you feel so intimidated by him? From all the news footage and interviews you’d seen, Captain America seemed like the nicest out of all the Avengers.
Maybe it was how jacked he was. Like, he really had a lot of muscles. You usually didn’t hang around super hunky guys like that.
You realized then that you hadn’t said anything in response to him, and you opened your mouth to say something, but no words came out. So you just stood there, staring at him with your mouth wide open like an idiot. Laurie came to your rescue and jumped in again.
“She’s free on Friday!” she exclaimed, reaching over and patting your chin to remind you to close your mouth. You looked over at her, shocked at what she just said.
“What? No, I’m not!” You said, panicking slightly. Captain America gave you a funny look. “I mean, I…. I am free. But I don’t, I mean…” You stopped talking, because there was nothing you could say. This was the worst interaction you’d ever had with a man. Just ride it out and let him run away screaming, you thought.
But Captain America- god, you wished you could remember his real name- just smiled, and pulled out his phone- the case he had bought all that time ago was on it. He opened his contacts and handed it over to you. “”Can I have your phone number, Miss Y/N?” he asked, and you silently obliged, typing your number in. “Would it be alright if I called you, ma’am?” he asked, looking into your eyes.
“Yeah,” you said, making direct eye contact and finally feeling like you could speak to him. “Yeah. You can.”
His baby blues twinkled, and he grinned at you before running off to join the others.
That was the beginning.
Steve Rogers x Reader
Summary:You have been in a relationship with Steve for a while, and are reminiscing one of your favorite memories with him.
Word Count: 1558
Warnings: None. This is fluffy fluff fluff.
A/N:I hope you guys like my first imagine! Be sure to let me know what you thought of it. I know it’s kind of cheesy and corny and fluffy-poo, but I haven’t written in a while and I needed a warm-up piece, y’know? Well, anyway, I’m open to requests if you have any! Not my gif btw
You stood in the kitchen, your hair haphazardly pulled up in the sloppiest of messy buns. You were at the sink, rinsing some green beans for dinner. Music filled the room, from the tiny little Bluetooth speaker in the corner. It was Frank Sinatra, Steve’s favorite. You weren’t much into jazz until you met Steve, and he started playing it for you. Now it was almost all you listened to. You hummed along quietly, smiling as you remembered the first time Steve played this song for you.
———-
“Now, I know you said you don’t like jazz, but I really think you’re going to like this song.” he said, this excited grin present on his face. The two of you sat in his car, an old red convertible, in the parking lot of the restaurant you at which you just ate. The top was down, the sky was dark and clear, and your stomach was happily full of Italian food.
“If you say so,” you teased lightly, brushing some loose hair behind your ear. “But if I don’t like it, don’t be too disappointed.”
Steve just looked at you and shook his head. “You’re going to like it,” he said, determined, and pressed the play button. Soon the sounds of horns and strings filled the car, and Steve pulled out onto the street. The song, ‘April in Paris’, was beautiful, and you smiled as you listened to it. It was surprising, really, how much you liked it. You stared straight ahead, focusing on the music, but you could tell Steve was glancing over at you every few seconds to gauge whether or not you liked it.
Halfway through the song, you looked over at him and grinned. “I like it,” you said, and his face lit up like a dog getting a treat.
You started to say something else, but Steve reached over and covered your mouth with his hand. “Wait!” he cut you off as the sound of the horns slowly died. “This is the best part.” Within a moment, the horns and strings swelled back up, and Frank Sinatra’s voice rang out like church bells.
You glanced down at Steve’s hand, which was still over your mouth, and pushed it away. You stayed silent for the rest of the song, listening and thinking about this night- it was your fourth date with Steve, and you really, really liked him. He was sweet, and chivalrous, and old-fashioned, which was just adorable. And he was hot as hell, which was a nice bonus. You knew that dating a superhero would be complicated, but when it was all said and done, wasn’t every relationship at least a little complicated? You wanted to try and make it work with Steve, and it really seemed like he liked you as much as you liked him.
The song ended shortly after that, and you reached over and turned the volume down a little on the radio. “Where are we going now?” you asked, looking over at the broad-shouldered blond in the driver’s seat.
“To my favorite spot in the whole city,” Steve said, glancing over at you with this gleam in his eyes you had never seen before. Maybe it was the streetlights reflecting off of their baby blue tint, or maybe it was the stars, but you had never noticed just how beautiful his eyes were.
He drove you to the World War II Memorial, and you smiled softly as he parked the car. Of course this would be his favorite spot in the city. He opened your door for you and you walked together to the memorial. The moonlight reflecting off the water and the sounds of the fountains were calming.The World War II Memorial was right in between the Lincoln Memorial and the Washington Monument, so you felt a sense of patriotism as you and Steve walked together. You didn’t say much to him as you walked around the memorial together, but instead listened as he explained the symbolism of all the arches and the pillars, the water and the lights, and told you all the facts about this memorial he could spew off the top of his head. He didn’t seem terribly overrun with grief as he talked about World War II, but there was definitely a glimmer of sadness in his tone. You couldn’t imagine how hard it all must have been for him. You slowly reached over and grabbed his hand as you passed Indiana’s pillar, not saying anything as you pressed your two palms together and interlaced your fingers. He looked down at you and smiled.
“God, there’s just… there’s something about you, (Y/N),” he said to you, stopped and turning to face you.
Your lips quirked up into a small smile, and he took a step closer to you. “I don’t know what it is,” Steve continued, releasing your hand so he could wrap his arms around your waist. “But I’m gonna find out.” You looked into his big, blue, Star-Spangled eyes, and you knew what was about to happen next.
Your heart was racing as he leaned in, and your eyes fluttered shut as you stood on your toes, pursing your lips. That song, ‘April in Paris’, started playing in your head, that part that Steve had loved so much. Your lips were just about to touch, barely centimeters away, and-
“Daddy, look, it’s Captain America!”
A small voice interrupted your thoughts, and Steve’s actions, and you turned to see a young boy and his father jogging towards you and Steve. ‘Shit,’ you thought to yourself. ‘Moment’s over. Kiss it goodbye.’
Steve stepped away from you and wiped his hands against his pants, smiling at the little boy, who couldn’t be more than six or seven. “Gee, I’m sorry, Mr. Rogers. But my son here is a big fan of yours- could we trouble you for an picture?” The father asked, eyes darting between Steve and you.
“Of course he can,” Steve grinned, squatting down so that the little boy was just barely taller than him. “What’s your name, little guy?”
“Bryce!” Said the young boy, grinning at his hero.
“Do you want to climb on my shoulders, Bryce?”
“Yeah!”
You laughed slightly, stepping off to the side so that Bryce’s father could snap a picture with his phone. After a few minutes of taking some pictures and small talk, Bryce and his father were soon on their way, and Steve looked at you. His expression was apologetic, and you could tell he was about to say he was sorry. “Hey, look, (Y/N), I’m real-”
“Don’t be,” you shrugged it off, reaching over and grabbing his hand. “I thought it was sweet how you let them ruin our moment,” you teased, placing his hand back on your waist. Steve’s cheeks turned pink and you stood on your toes once again, assuming the position. “Now, where were we?”
Steve chuckled and pulled you closer, lifting you up off the ground just slightly. His lips soon touched yours, and it was like a thousand fireworks lit off. It was a sweet, slow, lazy kiss, and you loved it. That was night you realized you could definitely see yourself falling in love with this goofy, old-fashioned, all-American hero.
———
“Those green beans aren’t going to rinse themselves, Doll.”
“Shit!” You jumped, turning around to see Steve in the doorway of the kitchen. Your eyes grew wide, and your cheeks turned pink when he started laughing at you. “That’s not funny,” you pouted, tossing a green bean at him. “You scared me.”
Steve was still chuckling. He crossed the kitchen and wrapped one arm around your waist, holding you so that your hip was touching his. “What were you thinking about?” he asked, tucking some hair behind your ear and pressing a loving kiss to your forehead.
“Nothing,” you said spitefully, sticking your tongue out before walking over to the stove and turning it on.
“Aw, come on, bug,” he cooed, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind. “It must have been pretty important to take your attention away from the beans like that.” You turned your head so that you could look at him and blew a raspberry in his face. “Now, there’s no need to be feisty,” Steve teased, burying his head in the crook of your neck.
You stirred the soup on the stovetop, trying your best to ignore him and his incessant, loving touches and kisses. “Oh, come on. I’m sorry I scared you, (Y/N). Now talk to me! I haven’t seen you in a week. What’s been on that pretty mind of yours?”
You turned so that you were facing him, and his hands were now on your lower back. “I was just thinking about you, and your stupid haircut.” You teased, smirking as you reached up and ruffled his blond locks.
He rolled his eyes, and leaned down to kiss you. “You’re a whack job sometimes, you know that?”
“I know,” you said proudly, reaching up and wrapping your arms around his neck. “But I’m your whack job.”
Another Sinatra song came on through the speaker, and Steve pulled you away from the stove so that your body was touching his. He swayed with you to the song, singing softly in your ear. “Fly me to the moon…”
