#america x gn reader

[esmerxyaugusta]

nat: i swear you need some hobbies.

y/n: i do have hobbies! and they are sleeping, murder, kidnapping, murder and kidnapping!

nat: ...

y/n: and also swearing!

steve: LANGUAGE!

#source: unknown #marvel cinematic universe #marvel #mcu #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #black widow #y/n #marvel incorrect quotes #incorrect quotes #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #captain america #gn reader

[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.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #captain america x reader #captain america x you #steve rogers x poc!reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x gn!reader #steve rogers fanfiction #asks #brandycranby

[upat4amwiththemoon]

Hey can I have a platonic teen gn reader who has dyslexia( it is a reading and writing disability) x Avengers who goes to Peter’s school. They feel worthless and frustrated because they need help yet they can’t help others with English. So they try very hard yet it barely gets noticed. They are working so hard to the point they break. It is ok if you don’t do it. Thanks

Struggles

Summary: Working twice as hard just to reach their level.

Pairing: Avengers x gn!teen!reader

Warnings: I have a limited knowledge of dyslexia

Word count: 706

a/n: hopefully this is what you had in mind

Tags: @thought-of-you-and-me @rafecameronswhore

masterlists | guidelines

Y/N mumbles a paragraph from the assigned book again. It’s the third time they are reading it through, struggling to fully comprehend what’s being said. Frustration is starting to rise, as the book has to be read by the end of the week, and they have to write a short essay on it to prove they read it.

“This one had a mast thin as a sapling. Its sail hung skewed and fraying, its sides were patched. I remember the jump in my throat when the sailor lifted his face. Burnt it was, an shiny with sun. A mortal.” They read out loud slowly, taking time with each individual word. Sighing, they rub the space between the brows, starting to feel a tension headache coming.

They don’t have a lot of motivation to do this, because they work so hard on every single assignment, but the grades aren’t showing it. It seems like everyone else in her English class is getting effortless As and Bs, while they are crawling along with Cs and Ds.

Slamming the book shut, they throw it to the ground. Y/N leans their head against the table, shutting their eyes tightly. The amount of work they have to put in their school work is starting to get overwhelming.

Taking a deep breath in and letting it out, Y/N lifts their head and gets back to reading. They know they have to use more time to finish the work, even if it’s starting to feel like too much.

Y/N stares at their paper as they and Peter walk into the compound. D. All that work for a D. Their eyes are burning as the two come up to the living room, where some of the Avengers are hanging out. Although, Peter doesn’t live at the compound, he spends a lot of his time there, being good friends with Y/N.

“Hey, kids!” Tony is the first one to greet them. “Got your English assignments back today?”

Peter nods, taking out his paper. “I got a B+.” He smiles.

“Great job, kid!” He claps his hands together once.

“I know the Avengers work takes a lot out of the both of you, so we want you guys to know we’re proud of you.” Steve smiles before turning to Y/N. “What did you get?”

“A D.” They mumble, eyes and cheeks burning. Their gaze is cast downwards, away from their team’s eyes. They don’t want to see any disappointed looks. “I’m sorry, I really tried. I worked so hard on it. I did my best, but it wasn’t enough.” Their voice starts to crack and their whole body shake.

“Hey, hey,” Natasha gets out of her seat, walking to Y/N, “it’s okay. Grades aren’t everything, you don’t need to apologize.” She wraps her arms around them.

“But it’s not just this assignment, it’s every single one.” They lean against Natasha.

“Why didn’t you tell us? Or ask help from anyone?” Steve asks.

Y/N hiccups, lifting their head. “I wanted to prove I could do it by myself, that I could be just as good as everyone else. But I couldn’t.”

“We all need help with something.” Peter sets his hand on Y/N’s arm. “I always need Steve’s help with history. I just can’t remember all the names and years on my own.” Steve nods in confirmation. “I’ll help you out with English, okay? We can work on the assignments together.”

Wiping away their tears, Y/N nods lightly. They didn’t necessarily feel good about crying in front of everyone, wanting to keep a capable picture of themselves in front of the others, but they still feel relieved to get it all out in the open.

“Thank you.” They whisper.

“We’re all here to help you, kid.” Tony speaks up. “Well, they are. I’m no help in book essay thingies.”

With a small laugh, Y/N nods again. “Do you want to go over our essays together now?” Peter asks.

“Yeah.”

Peter and Y/N start walking out of the room. “You two always make us proud!” Tony shouts after them, showing a thumbs up. Peter smiles giddily as they walk towards his room, craving Mr Stark’s acceptance.

#marvel #mcu #mcu imagine #marvel imagine #mcu fanfiction #natasha romanoff #tony stark #steve rogers #peter parker #black widow #iron man #captain america #spiderman #the avengers #avengers #avengers x y/n #avengers x teen!reader #avengers x reader #avengers x gn!reader #avengers x gender neutral reader #avengers imagine #avengers fanfiction #platonic avengers

[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

#steve rogers fanfiction #ro answers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fic #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers one shot #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #captain america fanfiction #captain america x reader #captain america x you #fools rush in #it had to be you #autumn is healing #threadbare #gn!reader #steve rogers x gn!reader #gender neutral reader #gender neutral y/n #gender neutral insert

[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

#avengers x teen!reader #avengers x reader #avengers x teen reader #avengers x teen #avengers x y/n #avengers x gender neutral reader #steve rogers x teen!reader #steve rogers x teen #steve rogers x gn!reader #steve rogers x teen! yn #captain america x teen!reader #captain america x gn!reader #natasha romanoff x teen!reader #natasha romanoff x gn!reader #sam wilson x teen!reader #sam wilson x gn!reader #marvel x teen!reader #marvel x gn!reader #marvel fan fiction #marvel x reader #gn!reader #teen!reader #bucky x teen!reader #bucky x gn!reader #bucky x platonic!reader #bucky x teen yn

[ru-xia]

Bucky: Are you an idiot!? Why the fuck would you go out there!? Do you want to be killed!?

Y/n: So what if I am an idiot!? You do the same thing!

Bucky: It’s different when I get out there!

Y/n: Oh really!? How is it different!?

Bucky: Because you're not allowed to get injured!

Y/n: And you are!?

Bucky: Yes!

Y/n: That's absolutely stupid!

___________________________________________

Sam: So how long does this normally last?

Steve completely done with the bullshit: They'll be back to normal after they've fucked it out of their systems.

#marvel #mcu #captain america #steve rogers #sam wilson #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x gender neutral reader #bucky barnes x male reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky x male reader #bucky x reader #bucky x gn!reader #bucky x female reader #bucky x gender neutral reader

[beanxemily]

Y/n *taking down five guards*: I've got five, what about you Sam?

Sam *Panting*: I got six. Buck?

Bucky *Groaning*: I got four, someone check on Peter and Kate.

Kate *Shuffling with Peter behind the group*: We got McDonald's...

#sam wilson #female reader #male reader #gender neautral reader #gn reader #male. #female #incorrect mcu quotes #wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #marvel cinematic universe #marvel mcu #marvel #bucky barnes #winter soldier #captain america #peter parker #kate bishop

[sebastianstanisahotmf]

Overlooked

Steve Rogers x reader

A/N This fic is about how overlooked Steve's trauma was in the films. It's just my opinion since he definitely would have had struggles but they weren't really seen in the films. Once again this is just my opinion. Idk if I like this though so I might delete it. I'm not sure though. Also, all mistakes are my own so if you see any feel free to comment them and likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated.

18+ MINORS DNI, THERE'S NOTHING EXPLICIT IN THIS FIC BUT IT DEALS WITH HEAVY THEMES

Summary Steve is struggling and you convince him to get help

DO NOT REPOST ON ANY OTHER APPS/SITES. THE ONLY PLACE THIS FIC IS ON IS TUMBLR.

Warnings Fluff, angst (a lot), allusions to being suicidal kinda (if these things trigger you in any way then please don't read it)

Steve was your everything. He was the reason you woke up with a smile every day. You trusted him with your deepest secrets and he does the same with you. That’s how you got into the position you were in. 

Steve was lying on your chest while you ran your fingers through his soft hair as he sobbed. It broke your heart to see him in such a state but, there was nothing you could do but hold him until the crying stopped. 

This wasn’t an unusual situation for the both of you to be in. This broke your heart when you came to that realisation since it made you think of how much you saw Steve in such a state.

It was because of Steve being misunderstood by everyone. Everyone saw America’s golden boy who bravely fought in WWII and continues to fight for justice. They saw his best friend -formerly the winter soldier- fighting his inner demons and PTSD. 

What they didn't see was the man who was scared to admit he was tortured by memories as well. They didn’t see the man who had nightmares almost every night. They didn’t see the man who would cry for hours on end thinking about the people he watched die, the people he was too late to save, the people he thought he should have swapped places with. 

They might not have seen that, but you did. You saw the look of pure horror on Steve’s face after each nightmare, you saw the way his hands trembled and you saw the way Steve would try to fight back the tears. You saw everything. 

Steve was so thankful to have you in his life. You brightened his day and made life worth living. Especially in moments like these.

His arms were wrapped around you as he snuggled into your chest. The blanket was over his head; a cocoon of safety, protecting him from the outside world. 

As his sobs turned into whimpers and his breathing evened out, you slightly lifted the blanket so you could look at your boyfriend.

“Do you wanna talk about it baby?” you questioned.

“Could y-you just hold m-me for a bit l-longer?” he replied.

“Of course I can,”

You stayed like that for a while before a thought entered your mind.

“How about we tell Dr Cho or Banner about this Stevie.”

“W-why?” He stuttered, trying not to panic.

“Because babe it hurts me to see you in such a state, especially as often as it has been happening lately.”

“It’s not that bad doll. Bucky’s got it worse,” he responded.

“Maybe he has, but that doesn’t take away from your struggles.”

“B-but what will everyone think? I’m supposed to be Captain America, the man with a plan. Their symbol of hope,” he said, starting to hyperventilate.

“Look at me, Steve,” he lifted his arms so he was resting on them and facing you, “Breathe with me,” you took slow, deep breaths in through your nose and let them out through your mouth.

Steve started to copy you and in no time, he was back to breathing normally.

“You don’t have to be strong all the time baby. Nobody is,” 

“B-but-”

“It’s okay to have struggles. You have every right to ask for help. You went through a war, lost your best friend and then woke up seventy years into the future. If anyone deserves to get help it's you.”

Steve looked at you with pure admiration and love in his eyes. 

“I love you so much, doll.” He leaned in to kiss you, it was so gentle and full of love.

“I love you too Stevie, that’s why I want you to get help. Please. I’ll go with you if you want and I’ll be there for you. Every step of the way.”

“You’re perfect darling,” Steve replied, laying back down on your chest.

“So does that mean you’re going to ask Dr Cho or Banner for help then?” you asked hopefully.

“Yeah, I will do it tomorrow,” Steve looked up at you and then continued in a voice so small and innocent it almost didn't sound like him, “Will you still come with me?”

“Of course I will babe,” you responded with a smile.

_________________________________________

The next day, you woke up to Steve kissing you on the cheek and smiling at you. 

“Good morning, doll,” he whispered.

“G’morning baby,” you replied, kissing him.

“I already booked an appointment with Banner at 1:15pm.” He told you with a smile on his face.

You pulled him down to kiss you, “I’m so proud of you Stevie,” you kissed him again, “so proud.”

Steve’s cheeks had gone red from the praise. Then, he got up and went into the bathroom, leaving you alone in bed with a big smile on your face. 

Once Steve came out of the bathroom, you went inside while he went into the kitchen to make the both of you some coffee and pancakes.

Maybe Steve was struggling but he had you and that’s all that mattered. You gave him purpose and someone to love and he would forever be thankful for that.

Taglist: @buckys-wintersoldier, @nicoline1998enilocin

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#marvel #mcu #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x reader fluff #steve rogers x reader angst #fluff #angst #captain america x reader #captain america x reader fluff #captain america x reader angst #captain america #captain america fluff #captain america angst #steve rogers #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers angst #gn reader #reader insert #x reader #x gn reader #steven grant rogers #steven grant rogers x reader #steven grant rogers x reader fluff #steven grant rogers x reader angst #bucky barnes #ptsd #flashbacks

[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

#Steve Rogers #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers/reader #steve rogers drabble #marvel imagine #marvel drabble #fluff drabble #captain america imagine #captain america x reader #marvel reader insert #steve rogers x gn!reader #steve rogers x shieldagent!reader #captain america/reader

[yelenasvestenthusiast]

reunion ; natasha romanoff

"where's mama?" olivia, clutching her plushie in one tiny hand and the other wrapped around steve's forefinger.

you smile, happy to see your little girl again after half a decade, but with tears blurring your vision. you hold your arms out and she runs into your arms, allowing you to scoop her up and hold her against your chest.

"where's mama?" she repeats, insistent. your eyes meet her wide, innocent ones and you almost break down. but you can't. you have to be strong for your daughter.

"i should.. get ready. there's still the matter of returning the stones," steve says, raising a hand in salute to you, to which you respond with a slight nod. you watch his back disappear around the corner.

"mama's not coming home," you whisper, voice cracking in the middle of the sentence.

olivia tilts her head, arms wrapped around your neck. "why?"

your lower lip starts to tremble. "mama's very busy. she's.. she's on a mission, okay, baby?"

the seven-year-old in your arm squirms. "when will she be back?"

"i.." you pause, not wanting to break a child's heart. she wouldn't understand yet. neither would morgan..

these children shouldn't have to deal with the pain of loss yet.

"someday, baby." you kiss your daughter's head. "someday."

a/n i didnt say her name BUT YOU KNOW WHO IM TALKING BOUT 😭😭 IM TORTURING MYSELF

#marvel #mcu #natasha romanoff #avengers #short fic #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x female reader #natasha romanoff x male reader #female!reader #male!reader #gn!reader #natasha romanoff x genderneutral reader #steve rogers #captain america #black widow

[defectivevillain]

tentative acclimation

pairing: Steve Rogers/Reader

summary: When Steve Rogers wakes from his near 70 year coma, he’s surprised by a lot of things. Perhaps most surprising, however, is the visit that Phil Coulson pays him—and the subsequent encounter with you, his new “tutor” and guide to twenty-first century life.

reader’s pronouns: they/them

Freezing. Painfully cold. Shivering, teeth chattering against chapped lips. Trapped in walls of ice. Voices can be vaguely heard through the barriers. Shadows rise and fall in the glassy surface of the ice. Numbness spreading down, down, down. Purplish blue skin, aching fingers.

Suddenly, the voices grow louder. There’s a harsh cracking noise and light seeps through cracks in the ice. The shadow on the other side of the ice morphs and, after a sickening moment of terrible anticipation, a pickaxe breaks the ice apart in one fell swoop.

Steve Rogers wakes with a gasp, breathing hard. He moves his arms to the side, half-expecting to find the freezing icy surface that kept him entrapped for so long. Instead, his hands find the rumpled sheets on his mattress. Steve takes a shuddering breath in and heads to the bathroom to splash some room-temperature water on his face. The first time he woke from the nightmare, he tried to use cold water—and nearly caused himself to panic all over again.

Safe to say, he can’t fall asleep after that. The sun is rising on the horizon; Steve has grown accustomed to rising with the sun, thanks to his nightmares. He takes a deep breath before going through the motions and making himself breakfast. After eating, Steve makes his way to the living room—only to hear the doorbell ring.

Steve walks to the front door and looks through the peephole, only to see a familiar face. He swings the door open and greets the visitor. “Phil.” “Captain Rogers,” Phil Coulson responds with a slight nod. Indeed, Coulson has been a frequent visitor since Steve first found himself in this S.H.I.E.L.D. safehouse. “I’m here on official business, unfortunately.” He then steps aside to reveal someone standing behind him: you. Steve can’t help but wonder what Coulson’s game is here. Perhaps you’re an undercover operative that he’ll be working with in the future? Steve’s misgivings must show on his face because Phil sighs and gestures to you. “Please, introduce yourself.”

“Hello,” you remark casually, before introducing yourself. “I’ll be your… tutor, I suppose. I’ll be assisting you with reacclimating to life in the twenty-first century.” Steve stares at you in disbelief, waiting for the punchline. You simply stare back. He gives in after a few moments of tense eye contact and turns his attention to Coulson.

“Surely, this isn’t necessary-” Steve tries to object.

“I’m afraid it’s TVA protocol,” Coulson interjects, as if he’d been anticipating the argument. Steve frowns at the unfamiliar acronym. Coulson doesn’t give him any time to think about it, as he continues speaking. “Relocation to a different time period is jarring; we need to make sure you’re functioning properly and have all the necessary intel before we send you out into the field.”

“Are you joking?” Steve asks, just barely suppressing a laugh. He knows Coulson wouldn’t appreciate the gesture. Despite that knowledge, however, Steve can’t help but resist the proposal. He doesn’t need to be tutored like a schoolboy.

“Do I look like I’m joking?” Indeed, Coulson’s lips are pressed in a firm line and his arms are crossed over his chest. Steve remains silent, knowing when there’s no avenue for argument. For whatever reason, Coulson is not budging in the slightest.

“Now, then, I’ll leave you two to it.” In typical Coulson fashion, the conversation is cut short before it can really begin. The agent sends Steve a parting glance before stepping out of the room. Steve is unable to hold back an annoyed sigh. He takes a moment to survey you: his supposed tutor. You look like a typical citizen. Your outfit is a bit different than what he’s used to—you’re wearing a sweatshirt with lettering across the front and blue jeans. Steve supposes that your time—his time, now, he thinks to himself—isn’t one of war. Otherwise, he’d likely be seeing war uniforms similar to the ones that dominated the 40s.

“We don’t have to go through anything major, today,” you compromise right out of the gate, clearly sensing his frustration and apprehension. Steve feels his shoulder slightly loosen at that. “I figure it’s already pretty overwhelming to wake up in New York City nearly seventy years later… and in Times Square, no less.”

“How do you know that?” Steve frowns, thinking back to how he broke out of his containment and found himself standing on the street in Times Square. Nick Fury had confronted him in the middle of the street, where he received the devastating confirmation that almost seventy years had passed since the crash.

“I was briefed back at the TVA,” you respond. There’s a long silence. Steve doesn’t have the energy to try to fill it. Plus, what if his diction is misunderstood or incomprehensible? If clothing has changed so much in the years, everything else probably has too. There’s also the question of the TVA. He’s pretty curious about it—considering it sounds like the TVA (whatever that is) is the reason he’s going through this tutoring.

“Well, tell me about yourself, at least,” you prompt, before he can simmer in the quiet for too long. Steve squints at you in suspicion. You roll your eyes. “Just so I can get to know you better. I’m not allowed to share confidential information.”

Steve doesn’t take the provided opportunity to talk about himself. He’s hesitant to disclose anything to you—a complete stranger. Coulson brought you in with him, but that doesn’t mean you’re trustworthy in Steve’s eyes. The awkward silence continues to drag on.

“There are other people like you,” you say eventually, breaking the tension. “Gifted individuals. Superheroes. However you want to word it.” You break off for a second. “And you’re not alone, Mr. Rogers. There are… more people displaced in time than you may think.” Steve raises his eyebrows at that. There are other people like him—people that woke up to find themselves in an entirely different century?

“What I mean to say is… I’m able to make a living in this position—guiding victims of time and helping them adapt to current culture. I’ve met people who have been displaced centuries ahead, and they adjusted just fine. You’ll be alright.”

“Well, thank you,” Steve says, strangely reassured by the vote of confidence—albeit by a total stranger. “But I just don’t see how this…tutoring will be helpful to me.” He admits. Thankfully, you don’t seem to take offense to the statement.

“You may have been trapped in ice for seventy years, but the rest of the world was not,” you answer, clasping your hands. You seem to be avoiding his gaze now. “You’ll need to learn about history, technology, and even popular culture. Our society functions differently than you remember.”

“...Fine,” Steve acquiesces, albeit unhappily. He senses that you won’t be giving in any time soon. If he were to refuse, Coulson would likely visit every day until Steve gave in. Ultimately, he’s come to realize that this is unavoidable. If this is what it takes to get back to fighting for peace, he’ll do it.

“Good,” you sigh in evident relief. You tap your fingers restlessly against your leg, before pulling out a small device with a keypad and an even smaller screen. You’re looking down at it with rapt attention. “Now, I think that’s all for today. I’ll be back tomorrow, same time. Okay?”

Steve almost manages to suppress his curiosity, but he finds himself blurting out his question before you leave. “What’s that?” He asks, looking down at the device in your hand. You follow his gaze.

“Ah, this?” You motion, holding the device out. “It’s a phone.”

“That’s a telephone?” Steve asks, unable to quite keep the fascination out of his voice. The telephone he’s accustomed to comes to mind—a large, awkward, stationary object. It looks nothing like what you’re holding.

“Yeah,” you respond, sensing his interest. You hold the phone out to him so that he can take another look. It’s rather small—pocket-sized—and it has several different buttons. “The mobile phone’s great—you can call anyone right from here. It’s got a bunch of other features, too. There’s emailing, which is like sending a digital letter. There’s also texting, which is like emailing but more informal. Phones can even play music, too.”

“That’s… cool.” Steve admits begrudgingly.

“Right?” You smile amicably. “Hey, I’ll see if I can get you a phone before tomorrow.”

“That’s not-” That’s not necessary, Steve means to say. Unfortunately, you’re gone by the time he spits the words out. Steve stares at the door for a while after your departure, feeling a bit as if his world has been flipped upside down.

Steve spends the rest of the afternoon thinking over his encounter with Coulson and his conversation with you. Despite his apprehension, you seem down-to-earth and kind. Perhaps the lessons won’t be as torturous as he expects them to be. He falls asleep quickly that night and, to his surprise, he isn’t roused by nightmares. Steve wakes up the next morning feeling refreshed for the first time since his return. It’s curious, he thinks to himself as he makes breakfast. He almost has to wonder if his conversation with you aided his psyche, but he quickly dispels the thought.

The doorbell rings, not long after he finishes breakfast. He supposes it matches the time you visited yesterday. Steve walks over to the front door and, after glancing through the peephole, lets you in.

“Great news,” you say brightly, foregoing a greeting. Steve feels his posture straightening and his negative feelings receding. You’re dressed in similar attire as the day before, although it looks a little more formal. You’re holding a paper bag in your hand. When you notice him staring at it, you smile.“I got you a phone.” Steve’s eyes widen and he falls in a shocked haze as you make your way through the house with unexpected ease. Eventually, you sit down on the couch and he finds a seat next to you. You hand him the bag and he looks down at it cautiously.

“Go ahead and open it,” you encourage him. Steve pushes past his irrational nerves and reaches down into the bag, only to find a nondescript white box with a cellphone pictured on the front. After a wordless nod from you, he opens the box and finds a brand new phone. You’re looking at him in thinly-veiled anticipation and Steve finds a smile growing on his face.

“Thank you,” Steve feels the need to say, even if his wariness hasn’t entirely diminished. It certainly seems as if you went out of your way to get it for him. “I hope it wasn’t too much trouble.”

“Of course,” you respond without hesitation. “And it wasn’t any trouble at all. Coulson seemed pretty open to the idea; it probably has some S.H.I.E.L.D. programming in it, but…”

“It’s great,” Steve cuts in, before you can evidently beat yourself up about it any further. He holds the phone delicately—secretly afraid that he’s going to break it. You notice his careful grip and laugh, before showing him how to use it.

The phone is truly amazing. Steve never thought communication would’ve grown so much in his absence. The telephones from his time aren’t even comparable to the lightweight device he’s holding right now. Indeed, his new phone has the capacity to play music, write emails, make calls, and more. It feels like an unnecessary luxury for him to possess, but you’re quick to reassure him that nearly every working person has one.

He fiddles with the phone for a bit longer, exploring the different programs installed on it. To his surprise, there’s already a phone number listed under the name “Foxtrot.” That must be Nick Fury. Steve sighs. There’s one more number, listed under the alias “Agent 10.” Steve doesn’t think that can be anyone but Phil Coulson.

“Your contacts list is a little sparse, I’ll admit,” you remark, glancing over his shoulder at the phone. “Here.” You extend your hand and Steve places the phone in your hand. He watches as you quickly type in some numbers, before handing the device back to him. “I added my number, too. In case you need anything.” Steve nods and promptly pretends that the thought doesn’t provoke yearning in him—yearning for you in the quiet hours of solitude in this house that isn’t his.

Learning how to use his new phone is incredibly enjoyable and enlightening, but, unfortunately, that is only the first of the many lessons Steve has with you. And the next lessons aren’t nearly as fun. Steve learns that World War II wasn’t the last war the U.S. battled in. Steve learns about the current state of the U.S. government and the travesties that occurred in his absence. Somehow, he is reminded of what should have been obvious from the outset: the world continued to survive and thrive in his absence. It’s hard to accept that, despite all his efforts to keep the peace, the world continued to see war, strife, hunger, and suffering. Things may be better, but from what he’s seen, they’re still a long way from true order.

Steve grapples with these facts for longer than he’d like to admit. Some of your subsequent tutoring sessions don’t actually involve any tutoring. Sometimes, Steve can’t find the energy or motivation to do anything except for stare ahead silently, blankly. In these moments, you’ll tell him about all of the good things that have happened in the world. You tell him about news stories where people save each other. Sometimes, you’ll tell him about a television show you’re watching or a book you find interesting. Steve can’t help but feel grateful for your unwavering compassion. Even in the moments when he can’t push words past his lips, you are a steady presence at his side. You’re perhaps the only person that doesn’t seem to expect anything from him. It’s rather refreshing—to be regarded as a regular human being instead of a superhero or a solution to the world’s problems.

Today is one of those days—the days in which he can’t bring himself to move. Everything feels hopeless. He is lost in this world and there is no one here that cares about him. Even your presence isn’t enough to shake him out of it. You start to speak aloud to fill the silence and Steve wonders. He wonders why you’re really here, why you’re even bothering to try when so many others abandoned him.

Time drags on. You’re moving from recounting your weekend to speaking about one of your favorite books. Steve feels the words crawl from his lips of their own accord. He doesn’t intend to interrupt you—it simply slips out.

“I had a date,” he murmurs, so quietly that he can’t even tell if he’s spoken aloud. Steve turns to look at you, only to find that you’ve frozen in place. There’s a bewildered expression on your face for a moment.

“What?” You ask quietly. The clock on the opposite wall ticks forebodingly.

“I had a date,” Steve says again. “I missed it.”

“I’m sorry,” you remark. There’s a tortured expression on your face and it almost looks as if you’re going to cry, too. Steve pulls his gaze away, his eyes burning. Everything feels as if it’s crashing down on him. The clock creates a methodical rhythm that rips through his head, reverberates in his skull. It’s not just about his date with Peggy—not anymore. It’s about the near seventy years he spent entrapped in ice, unknowing of the world aging around him. It’s about all his friends getting married, growing old, and dying without him. It’s about the old wounds from his war, being hastily covered with new scars from newer wars and newer conflicts.  

“I missed it,” Steve repeats, his voice sounding foreign to his ears. “I missed all of it.”

“Steve,” you remark with an uncharacteristically worried tone. You’re staring at him now. Steve can’t bring himself to tear his gaze away from the blank wall in front of him, even as his vision blurs with unshed tears. He feels a chill roll down his spine and suddenly, he’s shivering. Steve wraps his arms around himself, unable to see past the walls of ice obscuring his vision. He’s freezing. Painfully cold. Shivering, teeth chattering-

“Steve!” Your voice cuts through the static ringing in his ears. Steve flinches as you embrace him. You move back as if to pull away and he feels himself reach out to keep you next to him. You hesitantly wrap your arms around him and Steve buries his head in your shoulder. “You’re safe, Steve.” You’re almost exuding heat and Steve leans into it, allowing your heat to thaw the frozen ice around him. His fingers clench the fabric of your sweater.

There’s a hand on his cheek and kind eyes meeting his. Steve allows himself to lean into your touch, if only for a fraction of a second. “You’re alive, Steve,” you say. “You’re not trapped anymore. You’re free.” Somehow, that is what breaks Steve out of his trance. Free. He’s free. The ice around him is melting into a puddle. The water is seeping into his clothing, but he’s not trapped anymore. He’s free of his cold confines, free of the frigidity that clung to his skin for so long. Steve slowly exhales, his breath fading into the air before he can see it rise in a puff of vapor. He isn’t cold anymore.

Some time later, you break apart. Steve momentarily mourns the loss of contact, before beginning to feel deeply and profoundly embarrassed. He hates the idea of anyone seeing him like this—especially you. He almost wants to apologize, but he knows you’d just stare at him incredulously. The rest of your scheduled time, the two of you sit next to each other in silence. This silence is different from normal, though. It’s not uncomfortable or tense; rather, it’s comfortable. Steve feels relaxed by the time you get to your feet and declare that you have to leave.

“Give me a call, if you need someone to talk to,” you murmur, before leaving Steve to his uncertain silence. He stares at the space you occupied for a little while, wondering why he deserves your compassion. He can’t help but think back to last week, when he was so guarded about you and your intentions. Steve takes a deep breath and rubs a hand over his face. His head is pounding. He gets some water before beginning to pace about the room. Just before he can summon the courage to dial your number, he realizes that he’s getting a phone call from you. Steve answers immediately and hopes that you can’t tell how relieved he is.

As time goes on, the tutoring gets easier. Steve feels less burdened by his past. He’s slowly adjusting to twenty-first century life and he’s starting to find that he actually likes it. Steve knows things aren’t perfect, but, then again, they never are. And there’s no use agonizing over what has already happened—that can’t be changed. The future, however… Tomorrow is in his grasp. He focuses on acclimating to this new technology that surrounds him, because he knows it’ll help him in the future. Steve even finds himself beginning to enjoy your meetings. He finds himself looking forward to your conversation, looking forward to the friendly smile you arrive with. He finds you in the most mundane of things—in the glimmer of sunlight that stretches through the window in the kitchen, in the simple elegance of the flowers swaying in the wind outside.

The moment he starts to enjoy your presence—long for it, even—the sessions approach their end. It’s been weeks since he first met you and, since then, he’s learned nearly everything there is to know about the twenty-first century. Steve doesn’t know everything, but he knows much more than he could have ever hoped to know. He realizes that he could never have learned everything he has on his own. It would’ve been impossible.

Just before your last meeting, you suggest that the two of you dine at a nearby restaurant to celebrate. This is how Steve finds himself sitting at a rickety iron table on the uneven sidewalk, bending his knees under the rather small table to avoid brushing against you. Stark Tower sparkles from its position in the near distance. The sunlight is warm but pleasant. There’s a gentle breeze wafting through the air. Steve is possessed with the mundane urge to sketch the tower in front of him. The urge fades when he sees the gleam in your eyes and the excited gestures you make as you speak to him.

The waitress here is friendly—almost too much so. She leans into Steve’s personal space and reads him the specials, as if he’s unable of doing so on his own. Steve glances at you for assistance, only to find that you’re steadily averting your gaze to somewhere on the street. Perhaps this is one of the few things that you’re also unfamiliar with.

Once the waitress leaves, you seem less tense. The two of you talk about any recent developments in your lives, anything that may have been neglected in your past lessons together. Steve is happy to hear anything and everything you have to say, and he finds himself captivated by your every word.

Before long, the waitress comes by again to deliver your drinks. After she places Steve’s drink in front of him, she winks at him and walks away. Steve feels dread rising in his chest when he realizes that the napkin she gives him has writing on it.

“Did she just give you her number?” You ask. Steve nods with a frown, turning his attention to the waitress who is now walking away. “You should put her number in your phone. She’s clearly into you. You could ask her out.” Your gaze falls to his phone on the table, as if waiting for him to input the number into his contacts list. He swears that he sees a slight strain to your smile at the suggestion, but he puts it down to his own imagination.

There’s a long silence as Steve remains still in his seat. After a few moments, you evidently realize that he isn’t interested. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to dredge up bad memories,” you grimace. Steve blinks at you, confused by the remark. It takes him a few seconds to realize that you’re referring to Peggy. Admittedly, he hasn’t thought about her in a while—not since he first told you about her.

“No, it’s not that,” Steve answers honestly. He’s felt restless for most of the day but, now that he’s sitting across from you at this restaurant, the finality of it all is starting to kick in. If he doesn’t say anything, the two of you will part and he will never see you again. Does he really want that? Steve contemplates the question, despite already knowing the answer.  He subconsciously reaches out and crumples the napkin with the waitress’s phone number, before getting up and throwing it in the trash can nearby. He returns to the table to find you with an apologetic look on your face.

“Sorry for pressuring you.”

“It’s okay,” Steve replies. His heart is thumping in his ears, creating an unsettling rhythm. It suddenly feels as if the city around him is sinking in on him. The skyscrapers above are curving and reaching out to him. Your expectant gaze is enough to convince him to keep speaking. “Actually, I think I may already have someone I’m interested in.”

“Really?” You ask before he can stammer on further. Steve nods stiffly. “That’s great! Do you want to ask them out?”

“Maybe,” Steve answers noncommittally. More than anything, his traitorous mind supplies. He takes a moment to look out at the street for a moment. Pedestrians walk by quickly. Cars honk and beep on the nearby street. The lights are dazzling. Admittedly, it had taken Steve several days to get used to all the blinding lights in NYC. Even now, staring for too long gives him a headache.“I’m not quite sure how to do it.” “Oh, I see,” you hum. “Well, fortunately for you, things haven’t changed much since the 40s. You can just approach them and ask if they’d like to go to dinner with you. It wouldn’t hurt to say that you like spending time with them or something like that.”

Steve takes a deep breath. His heart is racing in his chest. He can’t remember the last time he felt such intense fear. Time seems to drag on with infinite slowness. Somehow, he manages to get the words out. “I really like you, and I enjoy spending time with you. I was wondering if you’d want to get dinner with me sometime.”

“Just like that,” you smile. “You’re a natural.” Steve’s heart drops to his stomach. You think he’s practicing—rehearsing this proposal for the other person he’s in love with. What a twisted irony.

“No, I mean-” Steve breaks off. He looks you in the eyes again, hoping that you get the message this time. “Would you like to get dinner with me?”

“The first time was better,” you recall with a frown. Steve resists the urge to facepalm.

“No, that’s not what I mean,” Steve responds, struggling to keep himself from getting frustrated. “I mean, do you want to get dinner with me?” He tries to place as much emphasis on “ you” as possible, so that you will understand that he’s referring to you.

“Um,” you break off, looking slightly uncomfortable now. Perhaps he’s being too forceful. “I think you’re good, now. You don’t need any more practice…”

“No, I’m not practicing,” Steve sighs defeatedly. “I’m trying to ask you out.”

“ Oh.” You remark with wide eyes, comprehension evidently hitting you all at once. “Oh, you’re asking me. I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize.” Your lack of a definitive response is enough of an answer.

“It’s okay,” Steve says, forcing himself to push past the heartbreak clawing at his chest. “Just forget it.” He moves to get up, only for a hand to fall to his wrist. Steve barely manages to resist the natural reflex to throw off the sudden grip. Thankfully, it’s just your hand on his arm.

“Wait, Steve,” you remark, an unreadable expression on your face. “I never gave you an answer.”

Steve stares at you in disbelief, still not allowing himself to hope. He wants to think that you stopped him because you do want to go on a date with him, but he can’t dare to let himself believe it until you’ve verbalized the sentiment.

“I’d love to go to dinner with you,” you smile. Steve meets your eyes and feels a similar smile growing on his face. He clasps your hand and you squeeze his reassuringly. Relief floods through him, coupled with some long-forgotten feelings: giddiness, excitement, appreciation.

Perhaps there’s a place for him in the twenty-first century after all.

#defectivevillain #gn reader #x gn reader #gender neutral reader #Steve Rogers x reader #Steve Rogers x gn reader #mcu #marvel #mcu x gn reader #marvel x gn reader #marvel x reader #mcu x reader #captain America x reader #captain america x gn reader

[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.

#steve rogers x reader #christmas vibes #captain america #marvel imagine #steve rogers imagine #captain america imagine #steve rogers x you #steve rogers au #steve rogers x gn!reader #steve rogers angst #steve rogers

[mrs-march-ahs]

Kai Preparing You For The White House (G/N smut)

OK LISTEN hfjkdshf

this is an actual fantasy i had last night. appropriate? probably not, but sexy? oh my lord yes

Summary- Since you are going to be living in the White House with Kai one day, it's only appropriate that you know the pledge of allegiance off by heart.

Warnings- this is probably disrespectful to the pledge of allegiance. and maybe to the flag. maybe to america? i don't know. i'm polish. i don't really know what the pledge is. i just know it's something y'all have memorised. i, however, do not, so this is hot. also, spanking fdjskfhds.

Words- 1.7k.

This is a Gender Neutral reader, the few times I couldn't get away with neutral language, I put two options [in brackets/like this].

The reader isn't necessarily European, but obviously somebody who does not have the pledge memorised. Not yet ;)

enjoy <3

-

“Do you know-”

“The muffin man?”, Winter butts in. Kai gives her a glare and then stares are his laptop again, not making eye contact with anybody when he speaks.

“The pledge”

You look at Winter, not sure whether Kai's talking to you or her. Winter stops sucking on her red vine and starts waving it around as she speaks.

“Riiiiight”, she drags out. She points her red vine at you aggressively and you look at her. “If you’re gonna be the First [Lady/Gentleman]one day, you should know it”

You stare at Winter blankly for a second, before nodding once. “The pledge of allegiance? I’ve heard it before in movies”

Winter continues to look at you, and allows Kai’s tapping on the keyboard to be the only sound in the room. You play with the frills of the cushion next to you on the floor and fill the silence with uncertainty. “Uhh”

“I pledge allegiance”, Kai starts you off very seriously.

“I pledge allegiance to the flag… of the Unites States…um”, you rest your head back on the seat of the sofa and stare at the ceiling. “And the republic for which it stands… one nation under God, w- indivisible…”, you close your eyes. “With freedom… with liberty! And justice for all”

You lift your head up to look at Winter, who gives you a thumbs up and a cheesy grin. You can’t help but smile back at her and watch as she stands off the armchair she was previously laid on, to leave.

“Very well done, First [Lady/Gentleman]”, she winks at you from the stairs and walks out of the basement.

Kai, not looking away from his laptop screen that shows an article about Beverly and a word document, stops typing for a moment.

“That’s hot”, he says.

“The pledge of allegiance?”

“No”, he replies sternly. “You saying it, you knowing it”

You look over at him next to you on the floor. He takes his hands off his laptop and pushes the coffee table away from him.

“Come here”, he whispers and straightens his legs. The eerie silence of the room only adds to the romantic atmosphere. You smile and crawl over to straddle his thighs. You put your arms around Kai’s neck, trying to scootch your body as close to his as you could.

Kai puts his large hands above your knees and slides them up, softly kneading at your exposed thighs. The touch under your shorts felt possessive and full of admiration at the same time.

“Say it again”

Kai’s dark brown eyes ever so slightly look up at you. His eyebrows raise with his words and he looks at your lips and holds back a smirk.

You play with hair on the back of Kai’s neck, practically swinging your legs and batting your eyelashes as you begin for him again. “I pledge allegiance to the flag and the republic-”

A quick slap on the back of your thigh stops any more words from coming. The contact makes you jump slightly off his lap and gasp, having to bite your lip to stop you from giggling. Sexual contact from a busy Kai was an increasingly rarer occurrence making the harsher touches even more arousing than the soft ones. He must be as desperate for you as you are for him.

You look away from Kai’s face, trying to stop smiling. A short giggle escapes your lips from the unexpected contact. Kai, noticing this, puts his hands on your ass and slides them up and down.

“Of the Unites States of America”, he corrects you. You nod and try to stay serious, despite feeling like a child in timeout.

“I pledge allegiance to the flag, of Unites States of America”, you bat your eyelashes for real this time. “And the republic for which it stands, one nation, indivi-”

Another slap stings you, this time directly on your right cheek. It surprises you just as much as the first one, but hurts less.

The mixture of pain and pleasure becomes even more unbalanced, and the tingle of arousal travels your body, making your body warm and your cheeks blush. Kai rubs his rough calloused hands over the red sting, tapping it lightly a few times.

You hide your face in Kai’s neck to hide your red cheeks, taking in a deep breath of his smell.

“Under God, try again”. With your mind filled with dirty thoughts and the prospect of Kai pounding you into the sofa, the correction doesn’t register in your mind. Kai is exceptional at remaining serious when he has to. You, however, have to suck in your bottom lip to not giggle again.

Another slap on the altering cheek makes you sit straight up and let out a whimpering sound. “Hmph!”

Kai’s hands leave your ass and go on the edge of the sofa behind him, pushing up off the floor and onto the sofa, strong enough to take you with him. You hold onto his shoulders and settle in on his lap once again, trying to sit down, but your sore ass making you stick it out a little, attempting to sit down a couple of times but not being able to feel comfortable.

Since you can’t sit still, Kai puts his hand in between your thighs, separating your legs and putting them both on the right side of his body. You pout a little in protest, not sure if Kai is finished with you, but he pulls you by the shoulder to lay you over his lap.

“oh my god”, you breathily whisper. Kai pulls your shorts up as far as they go, making you squirm in his lap. He hums in satisfaction at the sight of your red exposed ass.

He puts his hand down forcefully, almost slapping your cheek, grabbing it, and looking down at you. He prefers it that way.

You lay still, so aroused at the core that you wonder if Kai can feel it on his lap. Your face smushed against the sofa doesn’t stop Kai from hearing your innocent laugh slipping out at how awkward you feel at your first time over his knee.

Kai rubs your thighs a few times, and with his other hand strokes the hair out of your face to force your head on its side. He looks at you and smirks, keeping his hand on your head gently, but you look straight ahead of you. The reflection of your position on the black TV makes you close your eyes.

“I pledge allegiance to the flag, of the Unites States of America, and the republic for which stands”, you pause and open your eyes. You bite your lip to stay serious, needing a second to retrieve the second half of the phrase. You’re a little distracted.

The reflection of you in the TV shows Kai with his hand above your cheek, straightened out flat and ready. You bury your face in your hands, feeling exposed and embarrassed at how submissive you are for this man, but he rips your hands off your face almost instantly, holding them behind your back with one hand.

“One nation…”, you exhale out of your nose and hesitantly continue. “Indivisible”

The slap echoes in the room. The filthy sound makes your cheeks redden. Both of them.

Kai tsks his tongue a few times, not being able to resist smiling at you. You take a slow breath out, squirming on his knees, not because of the embarrassment, not even because of the sting, but because the arousal prickling at your body and thighs is too much. If you don’t start moving and getting something, you might implode.

Kai pushes your legs down against the sofa, trying to keep you still. His other hand slides up your back and tickles slightly at your neck before going back up to your head. He slithers his fingers in your hair, holding down, and tugging your head up. You gasp quietly, not knowing before that his long fingers just tugging at your hair could make you shiver.

“One more time”, he demands.

“Or what?”. The words leave your lips without a second of thought.

He tugs at your hair further, forcing your neck to bend back uncomfortably. With his other hand, he legs go of your legs and lets the weight of his arm come down on your cheeks in another slap.

The feeling makes you wriggle, or attempt to, but Kai’s grip on your hair keeps you still.

“One more time”, he repeats. You take a deep breath and close your eyes.

“I pledge allegiance to the flag, of the United States of America… and the republic for which it stands, one nation”, you pause. Opening your eyes, you question whether or not to blunder on purpose. But knowing Kai’s stamina and patience, your ass will be bleeding before he will let you off. More curious on what treat he has for you learning your lesson, you continue.

“Under God, indivisible, with… um… liberty? And justice for all”

Kai’s grip on your hair releases, making you drop your head instinctively. He lifts you off his lap, sliding out from the side, leaving you laying on the sofa. You turn your head back to look up at him climb on top of you, sitting on your legs while he unbuckles his belt. The sight makes you moan, and prop yourself up on your elbows to get a better view.

Kai pulls down your shorts in one swoop, grabbing a fistful of your ass in each hand and pulling you up. You stick it out for him, letting him see you bare and [glistening wet/dripping with precum] for him.

You look to the side at the turned off TV and watch him stroke himself like you’re watching the porn channel. He spits on your hole and pushes against it, letting the tip of his cock get swallowed in by how desperately turned on you are.

“One more time”, he repeats again. You look up at him, and quickly and frantically say the pledge, not being able to wait any longer.

“I pledge allegiance to the flag, of the Unites States of America, and the republic for which it stands, one nation under God, indivisible, with freedom and justice for all”

You look at Kai with pleading eyes and stick your ass out even more. He keeps his hands spreading your cheeks and makes eye contact with you in the reflection of the TV.

“Close enough”, he mumbles defeated, and slams into you.

═════════•°• ♡ •°•═════════

@milly-louise  @kitwalker02  @tatestripedsweater  @therenlover  @maria-akira         @greenduvet  @sallyscigarettes  @mossybank  @ahsxual  @mxlti-fand0m-imaginess   @kitwalkerangel  @twinkiemaximoff  @blackbat2020  @whiiiiplaaaaash  @elaineygrace @divinerulerluvr @johndeaconshands @midnightstar-90  @tatesweaterweather @undeadcortez @slightlyvicked @americxn @kaislittleheadliner @imjimmysdarling  @quickiesgirl @violate-larmon @cooperdays-gf @unlivingdreams @theytatelangdon

:D

#american horror story #ahs #american horror story cult #ahs cult #ahs cult smut #ahs smut #kai anderson #kai anderson smut #kai anderson x #kai anderson x reader #kai anderson gn #ahs gender neutral #ahs gender neutral smut #mrs march season 2 #evan peters character #<3 #america #haha

[yandere-kokeshi]

Yandere Steve with a gn darling who has depression

Request(ed?): Yes! - Hey, idk if this sounds weird but how would steve react to y/n going through a depressed episode? — requested by 🥔 anon

Warnings: yandere themes and alcohol

Authors note: Didn't sound weird at all! This was fun to write as this was my first time writing steve. Hopefully this is okay, I had to hurry this! Stay well :)

R3blogging and likes are amazing! Feedbacks of any sorts mean a lot! Stay well!

Steve is fairly observant, so the moment you started to stay inside more, ignoring his text messages/or calls and declining his offers to hang out; he knew it was getting bad again.

He understands depression is like a scale. At times, you will feel excellent, feeling energetic, and then crash down all of the sudden; wanting to stay in bed until the world ends.

At this point, he will do everything in his power to make sure you feel heard and that you are not alone. Seeing you in such a low state makes him upset and not being able to take it away makes him even more upset. Usually, at this time, he will try to comfort you as best as he can: kissing your forehead while giving you a back rub or cuddling you.

Steve would never get mad at you, no matter how much you decline his offers to leave the bed or snap at him to leave you alone, he doesn't sigh or get annoyed. He understands that you don't need any more stress as it is, so he tries his hardest to never loose his cool.

He will occasionally check for hygienic updates. Steve will gladly help you with wiping down your face with facial cleanser wipes, help you brush your teeth, or gargle some mouthwash to feel better or to some degree, feel cleaner.

Steve will let you rest as much as you need, but will occasionally shake you awake to make you eat breakfast, or pull you out of bed to do some activities with him. If it gets you out of the bed, for even about 30 minutes, he will take you for a walk, do a fun board game or go outside, and sit on the patio to get some serotonin.

Steve will even put on your favorite shows, and make your favorite food to bring you to bed; making sure you eat something, offering some water so you stay hydrated.

After a hard day of doing activities, he will lay with you on the bed: cuddling, watching your favorite comfort shows while eating some leftovers from the night before.

—

Masterlist | Requests are open (10/3/2022)

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED ©yandere-kokeshi

Do not plagiarize, repost, modify, translate or copy my work.

#yandere blog #kokeshi!! #yandere male #male yandere #yandere x reader #yandere headcanons #yandere marvel x reader #yandere marvel characters x reader #yandere steve #yandere steve rogers #yandere steve rogers imagine #yandere captain america #yandere captain america x reader #yandere marvel headcanons #yandere marvel cinematic universe #yandere marvel #yandere marvel x gn reader #yandere x gn reader #yandere x you #yandere x darling #requested by 🥔 anon #yandere mcu x reader #yandere mcu #yandere x gender neutral reader #yandere x curvy reader #yandere x y/n #posted by kloe #yandere #yandere marvel x nbn reader #yandere tendencies

[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.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x f!reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x gn!reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers headcanon #steve rogers #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fanfiction #captain america x female reader #captain america x reader #steve rogers movie night #steve rogers fluff #saturn writes #sleepisaturn

[ru-xia]

Y/n: Your eyes really are blue, huh? Like really blue...

Bucky: Is that bad...?

Y/n: What? No! No, it's not bad! It's a good thing!

Bucky: Really?

Y/n: Really.

#marvel #avengers #captain america #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x male reader #bucky x male reader #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky x gn!reader #bucky x gender neutral reader #bucky barnes x gender neutral reader #bucky barnes x gn!reader #fluff #mcu #drabble