#avenger x reader

You desperately gripped his forearms. Your legs were shaking, barely holding you up against the wall Steve had you pinned do. Your skirt was tucked into the neckline of your dress. And you could feel yourself clamping down on his fingers too. And fluttering, and leaking around them, and… all of the above.

Leave it to the birthday boy, America’s golden boy, to want something so filthy for his present. He wanted you all to himself for the weekend. There were a few public appearances he would have to make, but that didn’t mean that you would have to attend.

His smile slid over your flushed skin as he kissed his way across the swell of your breasts. “We have to start somewhere. Let go. Or do you want us to start with the toys?”

He had teasingly threatened to tie you to the bed, leaving you spread there and filled with one of your vibrators while he made his appearances. Then he could come back and ravage you as much as he liked. You didn’t hate the idea. But you had quickly lost your ability to consider any options other than the curling motions of his fingers in your sex and the path of his lips on your skin.

You bit your bottom lip, trying to focus on your pleasure. The motions of his thumb circling your clit paused.

“Open that mouth. I want to hear you.”

Your eyes snapped open too. His brilliant blue gaze was nearly eclipsed by the desire in his eyes. Steve held your focus, grinning slightly when you couldn’t help but whimper through gasping breaths. His nose occasionally bumped yours. Panting himself, his mouth hovered over yours. But he leaned away when you tried to kiss him.

His fingers moved faster, pumping in and out of you fast enough to make your fingernails dig into his suit shirt.

The pleasure overtook you, rattling you from your core. Your eyes shivered closed, but Steve didn’t correct you. He was too focused watching how your mouth fell open around the gasp of release. When you could see him again, though a little fuzzy around the edges, he gleefully matched your gaze as he sucked his fingers into his mouth.

You had made quite a mess.

When he laid you across the bed, you thought he was going to cuddle close until you recovered. Instead, he plucked at your dress buttons one by one until the fabric fell away. The set you’d found, blue with red and silver stars and a little red bow accent, had been a little on the nose. It would have matched the bottoms, but you’d lost that scrap of fabric at the bedroom door. The way the tops of his cheeks turned pink told you he loved it.

You settled back into the sheets. Breathing deep, you waited for him to lay beside you.

With a yelp, you felt his mouth over your sex instead.

His arms wrapped around your thighs. You couldn’t crawl or wriggle away to freedom. He pinned you between the bed and his mouth. Whatever mess you were already made for a noisy meal. He suckled and licked at you like he’d never taste you again.

Your body hadn’t fully recovered from his fingers. When they made a second appearance, your walls were plenty ready to clamp down on them again. Steve glanced up from kneeling on the floor. His nose bumped into your clit when it wasn’t under the attention of his thumb or flattened tongue.

Shivering and quaking, you had nowhere to go as the orgasm rippled through you.

The gentle brush of his free hand was almost cold against your flushed skin. He felt you up, traveling his fingerprints and grasping palm across your body as it shivered for him. Steve pulled your breasts from their star-spangled cups. His lips wrapped around your nipples, humming and pleased.

His cock began to slide over your slit. Coating his length, Steve’s breath hissed out with desperation. His hips jolted. He was desperate to feel you around him, but he wanted one more thing before then.

You were sensitive beyond belief. If he kept moving like that, you might come around nothing. You did your best to reach for his hip. Or his length to take in hand, whichever came first. “Need you, Steve. Need your cock. Please—”

He batted your hand away before pinning your wrists to the sheets. “Nuh, uh. Not yet.”

“But---but… you haven’t cum yet.” Your eyes rolled up under your closed eyelids. “I thought this was-- was supposed to be for you?” Fluttering your eyelashes, you caught the sight of him, the glisten of his brow and the expanse of his chest. When had he lost his shirt? You shivered as he winked at you.

“Watching you fall apart for me? I couldn’t think of a better present.”

With a wicked grin, he kept sliding his cock through your slick. When his cockhead would bump your clit, your whole body jolted with the collision. Mentally, you settled in for what could be an hour of pleasurable torture. He’d done that to you once before and said he’d wanted to try it again. But there were things he had to do today. Surely he didn’t have time for that right now?

While you were thinking about his schedule, Steve was watching your face. When he considered you sufficiently oblivious, he filled you with a thrust and slammed home.

You shrieked with release.

Steve kept still as your body fluttered around him. He watched your chest heave and couldn’t wait to watch your breasts bounce with the rhythm that he had planned. He wanted to fill you; wanted to watch his cum spill out of your perfect pussy because he had filled you with more than you could hold. He had waited for months with this plan. And he could be patient enough for a few minutes more. Second by second, you caught your breath.

The need for patience ran out. He started slow. Slow thrusts. Easy, but solid sheathes that gently bounced you. His eyes locked onto your breasts. With each slight increase of his power, they bounced more and more. It made the silver stars shimmer. The sight made his chest tight with need. Your high-pitched keen brought him back into the moment. And he almost fell apart.

You were wrecked. Hair spread across the sheets, slipping away from the perfect way you had arranged it that morning, it spread around you like a wreath. Your hands clawed at the air. His hands still had your wrists trapped. Your eyes were solidly closed, leaving you fully enveloped in pleasure. Your mouth was a perfect “oh” around his favorite sounds: gasps and moans and murmurs of his name. Yes. This was the perfect birthday gift.

Steve slowed down his pace just long enough for you to catch your breath.

Breathless, you cracked open your vision to see him. What was he planning? Was he going to leave you on edge?

As he let go of your wrists, your suspicions grew.

But his arm wrapped around the back of your hips, pulling you up to meet him.

He leaned over you to kiss at the curve of your neck.

“Thank you for my birthday gift, baby.”

Before you could reply, he was thundering into you again. Your chest arched against his mouth.

Steve was chasing his release now. He knew you would cum soon. It was just a matter of if he fucked you through it into another before he came, or if he would cum with you. If you’d had more non-pleasure-drowned braincells to consider your options, maybe you could have thought about… what? Steve was going to get what he wanted. And there was nothing you could do to change that. Even if you had wanted to.

The inevitability of that realization snapped the last thread of resistance within you. You cried out his name as you came for a fourth time. As you guessed, Steve kept thrusting, but he faltered quickly. With a few more thrusts, he shuddered, filling you with rope after rope of his release. You caught sight of his lips through your haze. They kept forming around your name and “love you,” but you couldn’t hear a think for the rush of static in your ears and brain.

He collapsed over top of you. His cock continued to twitch within you, even as your walls continued to flutter around him. His breath, ragged and hot, puffed against your skin. He nuzzled his face into your hair where it was spread out. You wished he would stay like this. The weight of him laying over you was warm and comforting. You waited for his breathing to even out as he fell asleep so you could follow.

Instead, Steve took a deep breath and stood up. He ran a hand through his hair and smiled down at you. “It’s time to get going,” he said.

You groaned. “You smell like sex. Shared shower?”

“No,” he drawled. “Any longer and I’ll be late.”

“Do you have to?”

“Yes.”

Resting on your elbows, you arched your back, feeling his fingerprints over your body. “Does this mean you’re satisfied?”

His grin darkened. “Not by a long shot.” Placing his hands on either side of your hips, he kissed you deeply, then murmured over your lips, “Well… it is the two hundred and fiftieth birthday of the country…”

Your eyes widened with a twinge of pleasurable fear.

He laughed at you. “We won’t go for that many. Maybe twenty-five through the whole weekend?”

Sinking back into the sheets, you heaved a breath, feeling your body tremble with the threat. He wouldn’t. Would he?

When he grabbed your wrist, you remembered the preexisting threat to tie you down. But he helped you stand and rebuttoned your dress.

“Come on. We’ve got places to be.”

“We?”

“Yes.” Steve kissed quickly at your cheek. “I want to keep you close in case the crowd become too much and I need a… respite.”

The starry panties stayed on the floor by the door as you guys left for the Tower lobby.

***

Master List

Marvel Masterlist 

Other Steve Rogers Fics:

Just as Sweet (Smut, Birthday!Steve)

Dirty Lips (Smut)

Beg Me Nicely (Smut)

Ten months after escaping HYDRA, you find the warmth of the sand and the sound of the ocean therapeutic. Your worries ebb and flow with the tide, peaking at night in your dreams and subsiding as the sun rises. Skin, previously pale and dry from captivity, is now sun-kissed and glowing. You even changed your hair, allowing it to grow in a way HYDRA never would. The little shop down the street sells hair dye, and you might purchase some when it feels right. 

Even Bucky, impenetrably serious and ever-vigilant, seems to share your sentiment. 

You wake in a haze of orange light, sun creeping over the mountainous horizon. Rays of light slink into your tiny bungalow from the sliding door, and the smell of coffee rouses you from your sleep. The bed- one you shared to keep each other from waking up screaming - is empty, second pillow cool to the touch. It’s been strange, waking up without a name or past in a place so beautiful, but you’ve kept each other motivated with shreds of memories. The bond you shared was deep, hardened by the torture you’d been subjected to together and solidified by blood. 

In the kitchenette you find a mug of coffee on the tiny counter, a note placed underneath that simply says ‘beach’ in sloped cursive. You try to sip the coffee, only to find it cool and bitter. It ends up running down the drain while you rinse the mug, deciding instead to follow the note outside. You change into a light blue sundress, stepping out of the sliding door to make your way to the water with journal in hand.

It’s warm already despite the early hour, and you trail your fingers across bright green trees and fauna on your way to the sandy beach. Crystal clear water greets you, a lone figure bobbing in and out of the waves. You sit cross-legged in the sand, content to watch him get his morning exercise in. A practiced hand makes note of the date and time, recording everything from the cold coffee to the creamy smell of ripe coconuts on the wind. You lose yourself in the words, adding tens more to the journal already bent from furious scribbling. 

Bucky either decides to keep up his laps or doesn’t notice you, paddling back and forth through rolling waves. You’ve close the journal and set it to the side, purposely slapping the cover shut to catch his attention. He must have been oblivious to your arrival, as he changes his course to immediately swim towards shore. You pad across the sand to meet the Winter Soldier- Bucky- soft hands coming to rest on his mismatched shoulders. He’s shirtless, wearing a teal and gray pair of boardshorts. 

A mischievous look crosses his face for a brief moment, and you just barely choke out a protest before he tries to tug you into his sopping wet body. 

“No!” You backpedal playfully, stepping out of his reach. “My clothes are dry.”

Bucky steps closer, coy smirk turning the corners of his lips. “Clothes can be changed.”

You scowl with no heart, growling his name in warning. 

Unsurprisingly, it’s to no avail.You’ve spent countless hours sparring with Bucky - with The Winter Soldier- and predict his pounce before he leaves the ground. Leaping out of his way is easy, but you forget the speed his titanium arm possesses. It strikes like a cobra, wrapping around your ankle and pulling you down into the sand. You catch yourself with your hands and roll, using your other foot to send a jab to his abdomen. It’s not hard enough to do any damage, but enough to release his grip on you. 

“That was good.” Bucky compliments, climbing to his feet and dusting sand away from his damp torso. He stands with his back to the water, casting a shadow where you’re still sitting in the sand. A hand reaches down to you, offering help up. 

You reach up to meet him, realizing too late that he had you beat in the wits category this morning. As soon as your fingers wrap around cold metal digits his hand pulls back and lifts. You’re scooped into his arms, and he takes off at a run into the waves. 

“Bucky, don’t you-” You’re cut off when both of you plunge into the drink, your clothes soaked beyond help. 

The water is shallow enough to stand, and you find your footing while soft waves rock your body about. Bucky is laughing when you surface, hair wild and plastered to your face. Your dress is in a similar state, every curve and contour of your body highlighted. You do your best to put on a serious face even though nothing but affection is moving through your brain. 

“You are in trouble.” You poke a finger into his chest, and he uses it to draw you into the embrace he searched for just a minute earlier. 

This time, you allow it. Sunshine warms the surface of his prosthesis, glinting into your face and twinkling through drops of water. His body is a familiar comfort, slotting into your arms with the ease of a final puzzle piece. A flesh and bone hand combs through the ends of your wet hair where it brushes the surface of the water. Bucky nuzzles his way down from your crown, nose nudging sweetly against your forehead before plush lips press against yours. 

He tastes like salt and fruit, the sweet tang of pineapple nipping at your tongue when his own traces your bottom lip. A moan escapes you, lost in his mouth as he pulls you in with an iron grip. Your hands creep up his chest, one sliding up to tug not-so-gently on the hair at his nape. His teeth nip at your bottom lip in response, hard enough to draw a whine. 

“Has anyone ever told you you’re beautiful?” He murmurs to you, lips leaving yours to trail down the side of your neck. A series of love bites are engraved into your skin, the pain morphing into pleasure as he soothes each spot with his tongue. 

“I could say the same to you.” You purred, nails scraping along his good shoulder. 

A fistful of his hair is locked in your grip when his teeth tweak a pert nipple through the fabric of your dress. 

“Buck…” You turn to look for any stray people walking down the beach, unwilling to be found by any government due to getting carried away with each other in public. 

He chuffs his displeasure with your warning, hot air dancing across the already sensitive skin on your neck. Bucky’s teeth graze by each of the love bites again, and his prosthetic hand squeezes the round of your ass. 

“Let me take you back inside, then.” He kisses your lips in between words. “Show you how beautiful I think you are.” 

Strong hands glide down your curves and squeeze, brushing by the most sensitive parts of your body. 

So, yeah. 

You’ve decided you like the beach. 

-

Thank you for reading, much love ❤

[Earth 717 - Kamar Taj’]

America was lying on a bed while Strange was examining her brain under the eyes of almost everyone. On a balcony, Natasha was there, looking at the horizon, when she heard some footsteps behind her.

“Do you think she’s having trouble right now?” Pietro stood beside her, looking at the view.

The retired assassin looked at him for a brief moment before looking away. “Knowing her, I would not be surprised, but I hope she found some people that would help her and would help her.” They stayed like that a few seconds before your mom talked again. “So, what’s the problem with America?”

“Strange thinks she’s having a bad time with her power, but Wanda is not convinced about that.”

“Why?”

“Just a feeling. She thinks that it must be because of that strange machine, and honestly I think so too, but I’m sure there is something else.” That intrigued the Russian, who looked at him with pure confusion. “I don't know; it’s just that countless things that involved Khrono are more complex than they seem.”

~~~~

Next to the room where America was resting, Morgan was staring at the wall in front of her, entirely ignoring everything happening around her. She could hear faint voices but didn’t want to make the effort of actually listening until someone touched her shoulder, finally getting her attention.

She looked behind her to find Yelena and Kate talking at her about something but wasn’t focused enough to clearly distinguish what they were saying.

“...we think that maybe it could reach her even if she would not be able to respond.” The archer said with a very enthusiastic expression.

“‘Scuse me, I didn’t hear you.” The young Stark replied, a little confused.

“Kate proposed to send a message to Y/n through her widow bites. If she could send us a signal, maybe we can do it too, and even if she can’t respond, at least she would know that we’re doing anything to get her back so she doesn’t need to worry too much.” Yelena explained this time.

Morgan looked at them for a long moment before storming out of the room. She immediately barged into the next room, scaring Wanda and Strange in the process.

“We can talk to Y/n,” she announced before leaving, searching for Natasha and her dad.

------

[Earth 616 - New York Sanctum]

Strange was meditating when someone entered the Sanctum completely panicked. 

“Doctor, it’s America; you need to help her.” Peter was carrying the poor girl in the manor.

The sorcerer immediately brought her into a spare room where he summoned all sorts of circles of light to know what was wrong with the girl. He examined everything with Peter by his side, looking at him and praying that his friend would be alright.

-------

[Earth 717 - Avenger Tower]

Everyone was gathered in the training room, where Morgan disposed of an old model of one of her dad’s armors in front of them.

“I modify him to actually send a message specifically to Y/n based on the signal we received earlier. We don’t know where she is and if she’s okay. We will record something for her in the hope that she finds a way to reply. If she does, we will be able to find her.”

It was a crazy idea, but it wasn’t like they had another one, so they had to try.

-------

[Earth 616 - Avenger Tower]

“Now come on, tell me, who are you, Scarlet?”

You looked at your mom from the past, something was odd. She had a different aura, like something you saw when you had to fight against Agatha Harkness.

“Oh, you don’t want to talk, huh? Too bad I don’t have all the time with you.” She opened the door and entered the room. She walked until she was facing you.

You tried to open your mouth, but something felt uncanny. It was your mom; you were sure about that, but somehow the magic inside you was yelling at you to run. The Scarlet Witch raised her arm until her hand reached your face.

Something in you was waiting for a sort of motherly comfort at the tip of her finger, but their coldness froze you once they reached your forehead.

“Shh, let me look at you.”

She was invading your mind. Correction: she tried to invade her mind, but something blocked her.

There she was in the middle of a storm of pure chaos magic. Wanda looked around, but there was nothing to see except the red color from your inert magic.

In the middle of the storm, a silhouette was looking back at her; she could feel a real presence from this shadow, which intrigued her even more. The ginger woman struggled to put one foot in front of the other, but she didn’t give up until she reached the silhouette.

Wanda could feel the magic emanating from it. Her instinct told her to capture it. To absorb it. She tried to, but then she started to hear it. A voice.

“Back off! Get out! Leave my daughter alone!” The Sokovian didn’t have an opportunity to process it until she was projected into the wall behind her.

Hearing the noises, the Avenger came to the room, where they found both of you fainted on the ground. Natasha rushed to you while Steve was checking on Wanda.

“Hey, Scarlet, do you hear me? What happened?” The Russian asked, but you couldn’t answer. “Bruce, do something, please.” Everyone started to panic while hearing Natasha’s shaking voice.

While Bruce was checking on you, they evacuated Wanda to the nursery, where she could receive the care she needed.

In the meeting room an hour later, everyone was watching the footage of what happened, but nobody really understood what they saw.

“It seemed like Wanda tried to use her power on our little guest, but her own fought back.” Steve said, looking at anyone for any clue, but no one knew.

Dr. Cho and Maria exchanged a confused look before looking at Fury. He seemed unmoved, but it was clear that something was bothering him. The one-eyed man looked at the screen and thought about the discovery earlier; something was not right.

Bucky wanted to say something but got interrupted by Friday.

“Avengers, Ms. Maximoff just woke up.” The AI informed them.

“Tell her to join us here.” Fury commanded.

A few minutes later, Wanda was facing her ex-teammates, but none of them dared to say anything.

“Agent Maximoff, it looks like you have a lot of things to tell us about what happened in this room.”

“I don’t know what happened.” Wanda confessed, which didn’t really help them. “I tried to help you; I tried to search for some information in her mind, but something or someone was blocking me from the access. It looked like a silhouette of a woman. I don’t know who she was, but she told me that Scarlet was her daughter.”

Fury looked at Maria and Dr. Cho, who were clearly just waiting for his approval to tell everyone about their discovery, but he didn’t.

“Okay, I see. I’ll let you rest. For now we will focus on the old method of interrogation.”

~~~~

Two hours later, in your room, you were still unconscious, deep into a strange dream.

You were lost in the dark when you heard someone run really fast beside you. You looked around and just had enough time to see your favorite speedster until the background changed. Noises from a battle could be heard in the background, but you couldn't find where you were until a robot too familiar was about to shoot you before the bullets were stopped.

You looked in the direction of your assaulters to find Pietro between you and a clone of Ultron. He was totally pierced through the body by the bullets. Your uncle looked in your direction and smirked. 

"You didn't see that coming." He said before falling on the ground. You tried to reach him, but you were stopped by a loud scream. You knew this voice; it was your mom, but her voice seemed more painful than usual, and before you could be hit by a huge wave of chaos magic, someone dragged you far away. While this person ran with you, in the end of one of their hands you saw some flash of moments that seemed to be memories but not yours.

And then finally the stranger let you on a road in front of a sign where something was written. You couldn't read the totality of what was written, but from the road where you were, you could guess it was something like 'welcome to'. Despite that, one word was still perfectly clear: Westview. You wanted to enter the city, but a flash of light surprised you, and you woke up.

You looked around to find yourself in the same room for a while now. This was just a dream, but it seemed so real. You still had the feeling that you lost him just in front of you. And when you knew it shouldn't be the best thing to do, you tried something.

"Friday? Can you tell me where is Pietro Maximoff?" You asked loudly to be heard by the AI.

"Pietro Maximoff, twin brother of Wanda Maximoff, died in Sokovia during the attack of Ultron, Miss." The AI replied. You didn't thank her; you couldn't find the word. It's impossible.

He was supposed to teach you how to ride a bike for your fourth birthday, and he was supposed to be your confidant, the person you trusted the most. He should be the one who always helped to make up with your moms after your arguments. He couldn't be dead, right?

"Miss, are you alright?" Friday asked after your silence.

"Can you call Wanda?" You asked her, surprised by your own calm attitude.

"Of course," she replied, and you thanked her. In the common room, the Avengers were talking about something that Wanda didn't even pretend to be interested in until the AI spoke. "Ms. Maximoff? Miss Scarlet wants to see you." She announced, and everyone looked confused.

The witch didn't wait; she could finally escape this boring, unofficial meeting. She walked fast to where you were; she stopped in front of you and took a deep breath. It was the second time she was here today, but this time something felt different.

"What is Westview?" You asked, and she lost her composure.

"Where did you find this?" She asked, visibly confused by your question.

"That's not the point right now. Just answer, please. What is it?" You repeated.

"It's a little town."

"And what does this little town have that's so special?"

"What do you mean?"

"I had a dream about something related to…you, and this name came out of nowhere."

The Sokovian took a pause to process what you said. "What type of dream?" 

"That's not the question m-Wanda." 

"You said you dream about something related to me, so I think I have all the right to know what type of dream brings you there."

"Not what type of dream, but who brings me there. Someone brought me there, and when I tried to enter the city, something woke me up." You explained, and now she was curious. "But that's not the only thing that caught my attention. Before I woke up, I heard the voice of Vision and two little boys." You added. 

The older woman paled at your confession. "How is it possible?" She asked, visibly to herself, but unfortunately for her, you heard it.

"What do you mean? Wanda, what did you do to them?" You asked, now worried.

"It shouldn't happen like that." She said, and you were pretty sure she was about to cry. "They should be gone now. You were not supposed to hear them." 

"Wanda, who are the boys?" You tried to ask calmly.

"They are my sons." She replied before she started to cry. At these words, your world seemed to fall apart. That's not possible, right? She should be joking. You never had big brothers. If you did, your moms would tell you, right? 

"What happened to them?" You managed to spill out from your dried throat.

The witch sobbed, and she wanted to reply, but Strange came from nowhere like always. "She created them." He informed you, and you furrowed your eyebrows.

"No! They are real." Wanda argued.

"Why?" You said loudly to no one in particular.

"Maybe because I needed a family. They are my boys." She replied, but you were shocked after hearing her explanation.

"No! You had Pietro." You said more loudly than you planned, but the thought of your own mom, who seemed more attached to those imaginary boys than you, was enough to make you angry. 

"You don't know what you say!" She argued.

"Of course I know! You always said that the family is more important than anything, but you let your own brother die!" At the echoes of the screams, the Avengers decide to make their way to where you were. "You're an Avenger; your job is to protect the people who need help!"

"You think it's easy to wake up every morning to know that you're alone here because your own twin died not so far from you!?" 

At this moment anyone who could hear your argument could tell you were both angry and sad, but they didn't know why you seemed so sad to lose the young speedster.

"You should have tried." 

"Because you think I didn't."

"You should have tried harder!" Even if you looked intimidating when you raised your voice, the little trace of sadness broke the heart of Clint. "L-ai lăsat să moară. Mi-ai luat vărul de lângă mine! Vă urăsc! [You let him die. You took my cousin away from me! I hate you!]"

The Avengers finally reached where the three of you were, and from the expression of Wanda, even if they didn't speak Sokovian, they could guess you said something really hurtful. Natasha escorted the witch somewhere else and a lot of them. 

The carpet was finally cleaned up of the remnants of popcorn that you and your friends had thrown at the TV moments ago, when a noise broke through the apartment. You shot up, the dust pan and small broom in hand as you shuffled towards the beginning of your hallway. There was a thump, coming from your bedroom. Someone must've broken in from... wait how the hell would anyone get in from there?

With the broom and pan raised high, you crept your way down the hall, avoiding all the creaking spots of your floorboards. Steve told you, that if there was ever a danger in your apartment to never act on impulse. Take deep breaths, and think of a plan. So your plan? Well... Go with the flow.

You kicked your bedroom door open full force and started yelling, pouncing on the figure that was looming in between your now open window and bed.

"I WILL MAKE SURE YOU WILL NEVER SEE THE LIGHT OF DAY AGAIN!!" You smacked the broom and pan against this person as hard as you could before you all of a sudden froze. Two large hands were all of a sudden holding you up from the ground slightly from your waist. The so-called burglar... was Steve Rogers.

"Steve...?"

"Hello to you too, my dear." He didn't look in pain, just some big goofy grin stayed upon his face. "And also, never see the light of day again? Maybe you've been watching too many movies?"

You huffed.

"Nuh uh, you don't get to judge me on my epic choice of words. Why did you break in?! I have a door you know!" The great and almighty Captain America, your boyfriend of all people, just broke in. Even though there was a perfectly good door for him to knock on, for you to open and to hug him tight.

But you've just smacked the shit out of him with a dustpan and broom. Well, beggars can't be choosers, you suppose.

"Indeed." Your eyes then went to the brown paper bag that sat on top of your vanity. The smell of burgers hit your nose almost instantly. "You didn't..."

"I know... I know. But personally I wanted to get changed out of a bloodstained suit before seeing you. So I thought, hey, I've got spare clothes in your room, might as well do that. I know! It's dumb—"

"Oh, but I did. One double patty burger with a side of onion rings... Oh and a strawberry shake. None of it was spilled or dropped the entire way 'ere." You couldn't be too mad at him anymore, he got your favourite meal order and is finally in your hold. Yeah, no more complaints.

"So... what exactly is this film?" You let go of the straw before leaning into him, your head resting on his shoulder front.

You both sat on your couch, the strawberry shake at your mouth as the TV played Four Rooms quietly. Steve had just finished his own food, an arm resting behind you on the back of the couch, his eyes locked onto the screen.

"It's about Ted the Bellhop. He has to take care of four rooms, hence the name, that all have different stories. It's one of my favourite Tarantino films, though I don't like Tarantino in general." Steve could listen to you speak about movies for the longest time. He remembers the first time he came over to your apartment, the massive shelves of DvD after DvD. You could only imagine the look on his face when you said you have movies from 40's, 50s and 60s. Though he missed the later decades ones, you made sure to keep him up to date.

"Oh, uh..." He blinked quickly and looked away from the screen. He was not expecting to see shirtless women.

"Stevie? You okay?" You held back a snort, forgetting that even through a screen, he was still a gentleman.

"Yeah just uh, wasn't expectin' that." He murmurs, his face is also slightly red. That's when you giggled and teasingly cooed at his face, Steve just taking it while hiding a small smile.

"Oh crap," you were interrupted by your own yawn. "It's already 12:30... I got work in the morning." When you stood up from the couch to start cleaning up, two large hands pulled you back down. Your body now landing in a solid lap.

"If you have work in the morning, I'll clean up. You go do your, uh, lil' routine and then go t'bed." You blinked.

"What? Steve no. My apartment, I should be cleaning it up." You wanted to clean it up, to ignore the fact that he'll just be leaving once you finish anyways. He always did. Sure, some nights he stayed over, but he'd be long gone by the time you woke up for work.

Somehow, Steve has read your mind. Because he frowned slightly into your shoulder, his eyes narrowing. Not in anger, not in spite. No no. Just, thought.

Your heart ached slightly, that part of you that felt this was just another empty promise towards you to make you feel better. But there was that small part, that ever so tiny part, that hoped he was being true. That you would wake up in the morning to a full breakfast with him in your kitchen. Like how you always wanted him to be.

"What if... in the morning. I make us some bacon, and eggs. The whole nine yards. Even with a glass of juice on the side. Hm? Thoughts?"

"...Steve—"

"I've got a week off... Unless an absolute world-ending emergency happens, I still have this week off. So 'm going to stay here, with you, all week. You can show me all your favourite movies all over again. I will make you meals, even lunch for when you go to work. I'll feed Mr. Squeakers for you, clean any room you need me doin'." He was about to continue before he felt your hand gently pet through his hair. That was all the confirmation he needed that you got the point and that he should shut up now. So with that, he picked you up, waltzed you down the hall and put you back down at the bathroom door.

"No. I know I haven't been... the best boyfriend. I disappear, I don't talk for some days, I am always in harms way and I know there are still people hunting me down. But, I got you into this relationship, so I should be treating it like one. Not just like, you're only someone for me to see every now and then whenever I feel like it." He took a deep breath, stuffing his face into the crook of your neck and shoulder. He left a tiny kiss.

"You go get ready for bed. I'll clean up, then join you. Okay?"

"Okay... if you leave while I'm under the shower I'm breaking up with you. And slapping you so hard, you'll go back into 1943. Got it?" Steve put his hands up in a small surrender before then doing a small mock salute.

"Yes ma'am. Anythin' you say, ma'am." He grinned when you grinned shyly, giving him a small peck on the lips before disappearing into the bathroom.

While you were under the amazing hot spray of the shower, Steve did literally everything. He loaded the dishwasher, cleaned the living room, held and fed your pet hamster Mr. Squeakers (he loves Steve only when he has food in hand) and even set out your favourite set of pyjamas for you when you came out of the bathroom.

That was everything, right? No, wait. He's missing the most important thing, allowing you to know he is still here. That's what you deserve.

His knuckles gently knocked on the door of the bathroom, the shower turning off at least 2 seconds ago.

"Yeah?" You called out.

"Just checkin' if everythin' is okay in there dear. And also wanted you t'know I am keeping with my promise of still bein' 'ere." It was silent for a moment, before the door opened. A towel wrapped around you and your dirty clothes in hand. The smile you did made him melt inside.

"Thank you for letting me know the promise is happening. But, babe, you don't have to tell me every second." He just scratched the back of his neck awkwardly before nodding and following you into the bedroom.

That night, you both slept wrapped around each other like two koalas, neither one of you letting go of the other. However, due to Steve also being the great and almighty Captain America, every flinch or shuffle you did in your unconscious state, he'd wake up too.

The con of being a super-human he guesses. But hey, he'll continue to deal with it to make sure you're safe 24/7. 365. Plus, it was cuter to constantly peck your lips and cheeks and jawline while you were asleep. Each kiss is a promise to be a better boyfriend, to do better, make sure he is what you need. Because you are already what he needs, but it's his time to grow more. It was a push just for himself to move past Peggy, allowing her to move on with her own life after so many years.

And since that's already in the past, he needs to grow that little extra more. And he will, he will push himself to the point you might just be the only good thing left in his life that isn't dead or moved on.

"Have a great day, okay? Call me if someone is too annoying. And make sure everyone watches their language." You snorted as you slotted the lunchbox into your bag before looking back up at him. Just, staring for that small moment before pulling him down and connecting your lips together like there was no tomorrow.

Oh and just so you know, he did make you that breakfast. Eggs, waffles, bacon with a side of juice. Plus a fully packed healthy lunch for your tough day at the office.

He quietly yelped before instantly returning the affectionate action. Almost like you both hadn't done this multiple times before.

"Bye Steve. I love you."

"I love you too, baby. Now go on, go rule the office."

If you enjoyed this fic, please leave a like or reblog! It helps our writers HEAPS!! <3

Uh, first fic. Haha. Nervous.

NO AI WAS USED TO CREATE THIS FANFICTION! I WROTE THIS WITH MY OWN INFINITY STONE PAINTED NAILS CURLED UP IN BED GETTING HORRIFIC POSTURE!

Fuck AI.

I hope this one is okay! I have a lot of drafts saved in the kitchen (three of them are Eddie Brock x reader).