Steve Rogers Angst - Blog Posts

Imagine disobeying Steve’s orders!

(You’re sitting on the bed, wiping your face with a towel)

Steve: You’re not a hero Y/n. You’re just a civilian who found their way into S.H.I.E.L.D.

Y/n: What the hell is that suppose to mean? Just cause I messed up one mission doesn’t mean the world is ending, Steve. You can’t just do that!

(You stood up in anger, as he watched you. Noticing your chest heaving up and down.)

Steve: I’m the Captain, not you. So take my orders, or get out.

(He threatened with clenched jaws)

Y/n: I’ll take my chances, Rogers. I don’t follow rules, I break them. And if you don’t like that, maybe you should retire because that’s how I'm going to be.

(You threw the towel on the bed and walked by him, slightly stomping your feet)

Steve: We’ll see about that.

to noise making ; steve rogers.

track six of WASTELAND, BABY!

pairing ; steve rogers x mutant!gn!reader

synopsis ; pure silence never sat well with steve. it reminded him of all the time he had lost frozen in ice. so when he heard your loose, disjointed hums coming from the compound’s kitchen, he came seeking your voice out more and more.

words ; 4.5k

themes ; fluff, mild angst

warnings / includes ; mild cursing, implications of depression/ptsd but not explicit, descriptions of injury/blood, a mention of a toxic ex, one mention of biological warfare, reader is a mutant with the ability to manipulate matter, reader calls steve 'old man' and he calls them 'sweetheart' once, reader and tony are best friendos, this fic is basically a huge FUCK YOU to steve's ending in endgame, a kiss !! that tony rudely interrupts, mildly an avengers tower-reminiscent fic bcs they're my found family okay </3

main masterlist. set in the same universe as: blue jeans.

Silence accompanied Steve everywhere he went. 

It followed him through his morning—when he rose so early even the birds hadn’t started their day yet. When he went out for a quick jog, his shoes nearly mute against the sidewalk’s smooth concrete.When he showered with frigidly cold water right after, he stared wordlessly at the ground as the iridescent soap suds ran down his skin into the drain. 

It followed him through his afternoon—when he filled out paperwork for the latest recon mission. When he played a quiet game of Uno with Bucky over the kitchen counter during lunch. When he went outside, where the curious stares of strangers seemed to grow exponentially with each ticking second, and phone cameras were shoved into his face not two yards out the door. 

It followed him through the night—when he went on a blind date set up by Natasha, the dinner largely consisted of uncomfortable pauses, mostly because they really had nothing in common, and she’d also mentioned she wasn’t all that into blondes. When he later took his motorcycle out for a drive, stopping by an empty bridge to stare down at the river rushing by. When he slid into bed with naught a sound, digging his fist into his eyes until he hallucinated bright colors behind his eyelids. 

Pure silence never sat well with Steve. It reminded him of all the time he had lost frozen in ice. All the time that had slipped right between his fingers like fine grains of sand.

That morning was as ordinary as ever. He brushed his teeth. Ran a comb through his flaxen hair. Changed into his jogging clothes. Tied his shoes. And he slipped out of the compound, off for his daily run. 

When he came back, he was surprised to see Tony striding out of the kitchen—he wasn’t usually up this early. 

“Dishwasher’s broken,” the brunette told him, sipping a large mug of dark coffee as he stroked his stubble with his other hand. “Remind me to get that fixed, will you?”

Steve blinked, then nodded.

Satisfied, Tony bid him adieu with no more than a limp wave as he shuffled past him, off to the compounds laboratory. 

The rest of the day slid by as quiet as ever—paperwork, filing, having lunch with Natasha at a secluded Italian cafe, mission debrief with Sam, more paperwork, listening to Bucky complain about his cat scratching up his favorite henley, and finally, deciding he was hungry enough to make dinner. 

He rose out of his chair, stretching with a soft groan as his bones popped with the movement. Then, Steve made his way out of his room, making a bee-line for the kitchen. He wasn’t at all surprised to see the compound’s living room empty—Sam had left for Louisiana to visit his sister, Natasha was off on an impromptu mission with Clint, Tony was doing god knows what in his lab, and Bucky was busy reprimanding Alpine for destroying his most prized article of clothing.

With everybody gone, it should’ve been quiet. 

But it wasn’t.

Much to Steve’s mild surprise and curiosity, he could hear somebody in the kitchen. 

Who could it be? Bruce? No—Bruce had flown off to Switzerland for some sort of fancy science convention. Thor? It was possible, but probably not—the Norse god would’ve barged into his room asking how to use the microwave for the millionth time by now. 

Steve heard the clatter of pots. The sound of boiling liquid. A displeased noise, quietly followed by a frantic mutter, “Oh, too much, too much!” He heard water trickling down the drain.

Then, the humming started. It was loose and disjointed, following the tune of a song for a couple seconds at a time before taking a lengthy pause, only to pick up an entirely new melody a minute later.

It took him a moment to realize that lingering in the dark hallway whilst listening intently to someone in the kitchen was rather creepy, so Steve reared himself out of his thoughts and stepped into the light. 

Of course it was you. You were more or less new to the compound—a long-time, trusted friend of Tony’s from all the way back when he first built his Iron Man suit. You were recently brought onto the team due to your mutant abilities, uncanny intelligence, and Tony’s undeniable fondness for you. Besides that, Steve knew very little about you: he knew you were around the same age as him (at least the same age as when he was frozen), he knew you were a genius physicist, he knew you had the power to manipulate matter around you (which made you an excellent asset to the team), and he recalled Scott once mentioning that you were allergic to styrofoam. 

Steve assumed that the last one had been a joke. 

“Oh!” Your startled voice echoed across the kitchen at the sight of him. “Oh, it’s just you.”

An eyebrow raised closer to his hairline. “Just me? Who did you think it was?”

You appeared embarrassed for a moment, waving a spatula in the air. “Well, I may or may not have stolen Tony’s top secret models for his next version of the suit—just because I was curious how much he was going to spend on it, you know? I figured he’d come storming in accusing me of theft.”

A smile graced Steve’s lips. “Well, knowing Tony, I don’t think he’ll notice anytime soon. He hasn’t left the lab in hours.”

You shook your head fondly with a part hum, part scoff, before turning back to the stove, mixing the large pot full of red sauce. The air was saturated with the scent of simmering tomatoes and aromatic herbs—basil and oregano, Steve mused, were probably two of his most favorite things since coming out of the ice. They certainly didn’t have flavors like those back in the forties. Everything was far too bland and excessively moist back then. 

“I’m making vegan spaghetti,” you said, snapping him out of his mouth-watering daze. “I’d be happy to fix a plate for you.”

A polite protest was on the tip of his tongue—Steve was planning on quickly microwaving a frozen pizza before heading off to do some more work. Just as he began to voice this, his stomach rumbled loudly in betrayal, and a grimace etched over his mouth. A wave of heat seeped through his skin, tinting his face a subtle shade of scarlet. 

Much to his relief, you merely grinned brightly, smothering a laugh by biting down on your bottom lip in amusement. “I’ll take that as a yes,” you quipped, ladleing spoonfuls of sauce into two bowls of steaming spaghetti noodles. “Take a seat.”

Complying, Steve gingerly sat at the kitchen table, resting his hand atop the smooth glass. “Can I ask you something?”

A smile danced across your mouth. “I believe you just did, Cap.” You chuckled mildly before gesturing for him to carry on.

“If you’ve got powers, why are you…”

“Cooking? I guess I just like to do things organically sometimes,” you replied easily, sprinkling herbs on top of the spaghetti before bringing the steaming bowls towards the table. “It’s cathartic.”

Steve thought to all the times he broke the sandbags in the gym—the satisfying thud of completion. He supposed he understood what you meant.

The dish in front of him was wafting with a fragrance that made his stomach twist painfully with hunger. 

“Dig in,” you said, gesturing to his serving as you started twirling the noodles around with a fork. “And to elaborate on your question, I’ve made food using my powers before—but it just tastes different. Like it isn’t the same if I didn’t measure out the ingredients, waited for the water to boil, or chopped up the veggies. It feels almost as if I’m cheating, you know?”

Steve tilted his head in thought. “That’s an interesting way to put it,” he said with a small smile, before forking some spaghetti into his mouth. “How’d you find out about your powers?”

The light-hearted atmosphere about you seemed to thin away at his question. Your bottom lip was pulled between your teeth as you considered his question for a moment before responding. “It was an accident. A bad one. My ex… he was a real dick—excuse my language—and this one time one of our fights got out of hand. He started raising his palm like he was going to hit me. He wasn’t going to, by the way, he was just reaching for his phone behind me. But I panicked—and all of a sudden a shard of glass materialized right through his hand.”

Steve’s brows rose. He shoveled more spaghetti into his mouth.

“There was blood dripping all over the floor. We were both silent at first. Then, he started screaming. Luckily, we had a first aid kit in our bathroom. I bound his palm and drove him to the hospital—he was fine. No permanent damage.”

You sipped on some water, swallowing heavily.

“Are you guys still…?” 

“Oh, definitely not.” You chuckled bitterly. “He never wanted to speak to me ever again. Called me a freak. A mutant.”

It was brief, but Steve could see the insecurity meld across your features, shattering through your otherwise bubbly persona. 

“Well, he was an idiot. It was an accident, right? Accidents happen,” Steve quietly put forth. “And for what it’s worth, I think your powers are extraordinary. I mean, you can conjure up practically anything you want! That’s just… incredible.”

Warmth stained your insides golden as you pushed away a smile. “Thanks, Steve. Your powers aren’t too bad either—fast healing, enhanced strength. You’re quite the package.”

A generous smattering of crimson spread over his cheekbones. “Well, I’d have to thank Doctor Erskine for that. He was the one that invented the super serum—and chose for me to be the test subject. Because he believed in me.” There was a distant, reminiscent sadness to his eyes. You knew of Erskine, he was plastered across practically every American history textbook. 

“I’m sorry he died so soon,” you mumbled. “He seemed like a great man.”

“He was,” Steve said, nodding. He regarded you for a moment, briefly wondering just why it was so easy to talk to you when the two of you had barely spoken before this. The blonde across from you cleared his throat. “Thinking about him always gets me strangely nostalgic. I dream about the forties sometimes… my terrible childhood, my creaky apartment, my first love, … life before the war—before all of this. Sometimes I wonder—if I was given the chance to go back, would I?”

Your fork stopped halfway to your face. “Would you?” you asked quietly.

“I don’t know,” Steve admitted, rather shamefully. “I don’t think I would. I mean, I’ve got my family here. Bucky, Sam, Natasha—they mean the world to me. I think I just feel… guilty about it all? Like when you mentioned using magic sometimes feels like your cheating at something. I feel like I cheated my own death. It feels unfair. When I look at Bucky—I feel like I betrayed him.”

“Oh, Steve.” You were shaking your head, reaching across the table to gently grasp one of his hands. Your palm was warm atop his frigid one. “I know how that feels—like you don’t deserve a place in the world because you’re different. But I promise it gets better. None of that was your fault. You’ll move on, with time. Plus, you’ve got a great support system here. I know we haven’t been the closest of friends but I’m certainly willing to lend an ear whenever you want me to.”

It mildly surprised him when he felt disappointment unfurl within his chest when you retracted your touch.

“That…” Steve released a small sigh, relaxing his muscles that he didn’t even realize were tense. “That means a lot, Y/N. Thanks. I haven’t really told anybody this because I thought it’d just… go away eventually. I don’t like the quiet. I hate it, in fact. The silence always reminds me of all the time I spent in the ice—how I cheated death. It leaves me with my own thoughts and makes me realize just how… unsatisfied I am. I’m not happy with myself when everything around me is quiet.”

He swallowed down another twirl of spaghetti, now cold and thick in his throat.

A part of him was afraid he’d scare you away with this confession. After all, it was a lot to dump on the first conversation with someone he had a lot of respect for.

Instead of finishing the rest of your spaghetti as quickly as you could and running away from him like Steve partially expected you’d do, you merely smiled at him, a newfound understanding reflected in your eyes. “Then I’ll make sure never to be quiet around you,” you said, genuine tenderness woven between each word.

Steve’s stomach lurched at that.

The rest of the dinner went by filled with stories of how you mastered your powers, stories of Steve finding out Bucky was still alive after all these years, stories of how you met Tony long, long ago.

It was safe to say, silence was nowhere near the two of you that night. 

You were humming again. Steve could hear you from down the hall. It’d been a couple of weeks since that first dinner with you—with dozens more sprinkled in between. The two of you were practically attached by the hip after that. 

A smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

He wandered into the kitchen with his hands behind his back, coming beside you at the sink, where you were washing the dishes (which reminded him that he forgot to remind Tony to fix the dishwasher). 

“Can I help?” he asked, unclasping his hands and extending one towards you.

Without breaking off your humming, you handed him a damp plate whilst gesturing to a rag for him to use to dry. Steve caught sight of your bright grin from his peripheral vision. He ducked his head bashfully, pulse kicking up a notch. Your hip bumped into his, and the two of you quietly chuckled. 

No words were exchanged between the two of you then, the only thing filling the silence between you was your disjointed hums to songs that Steve didn’t know.

“What song are you humming?” The scratching of Steve’s pencil against paper momentarily stopped in the middle of drawing a sketch of a bowl of fruits on the coffee table in front of him as he tentatively asked the question. 

You looked away from your book propped up on your legs, which were carelessly thrown over Steve’s on the compound’s couch. His free hand was splayed largely on your knee—but you pretended not to notice.

“Huh?” you asked, having not heard his question properly, preoccupied with the story you were reading.

“You’re always humming the same song,” Steve said. “Well, parts of that song.”

“Oh!” Placing the book down, you shifted around so you could reach for your phone in your pocket. “It’s this sixties song called Summer Wine by Nancy Sinatra and Lee Hazlewood. One of my all time favorites.” 

You pressed the play button on your phone screen and Steve listened along, enjoying the softness of Nancy’s voice in stark contrast to the slow rasp of Lee’s. He bobbed his head to the song off-beat, but you found it endearing all the same.

“Yeah, that’s it, old man,” you teased, elbowing him in the side and mimicking his movements. Your smile, so wide it seemed to illuminate the entire room, made Steve giddy with excitement. “It’s a good song, isn’t it?”

Steve let out a breathy chuckle. “You know, I was so set on forties music being the best of the best for the longest time—I think you might just be able to change my mind. Don’t tell Bucky I said that, though—he’d skin me alive.”

A genuine gasp fell from your lungs as you lurched forward, grabbing at his hands and leaning in so close he could see his reflections in your enlivened irises. He could smell your perfume, a soft wafting of vanilla and lavender that made his head spin. “Really? Because I have so many more songs I could recommend to you—tell you what, I’ll make you a playlist tonight. Finally introduce you to the world of modern music.” You relinquished your hold on him, moving back with a grand beam. “That might be the nicest compliment anybody’s ever given me, Stevie.”

Steve couldn’t help but feel like you were overexaggerating just to make him happy, but you seemed happy to do so, and how could he ever interfere with that? 

“I don’t know, though,” Steve started, his tone teasing. “Forties music is gonna be really hard to top.”

“It’ll be my mission to find something for you, then,” you said, determined. With that, you picked your book back up and began reading again, humming softly once more. Steve took that as his cue to continue drawing. 

He spared you a glance every once in a while, observing the way the sunlight from the window cast a dewy, honey-like luminescence over your features. The way the sloping curvatures of the shadows on your face enhanced your relaxed state. The way your teeth sank into the flesh of your bottom lip as your pupils flitted to and fro from the book’s pages. He wanted to ask if he could draw you, but the words lodged in his throat, like he had swallowed a large stone.

So he stayed quiet, listening to you hum a song that Steve now knew.

“Steve.”

Natasha crossed her arms.

“Steve.”

She sighed, eyes narrowing. 

“Damn it, Steve!”

Finally, the blonde startled, ripping his headphones off and whirling around in his chair to see Natasha standing a foot away from his desk. He’d been listening to the playlist you had meticulously curated for him, practically bouncing on the balls of your feet when you told him to listen to it.

The annoyance in the green of her eyes dissipated, replaced with mild amusement. “So much for super-hearing, huh?” she snarked, lacking any true bite to her words. Despite her stoic demeanor, she was really glad Steve found someone that made him happier than anybody else ever did. Even though he didn’t know it yet—Natasha saw the way he looked at you. 

Steve scratched the back of his neck bashfully. “Sorry, Nat. How can I help?”

“Y/N just got back from their mission. They’re in the infirmary.”

Immediately, he stood up, chair squeaking at the abrupt movement, eyebrows furrowing. “Infirmary? Are they hurt? What’re they doing back so early? The mission was supposed to be take an entire week, that’s what—”

“Relax, Rogers,” Natasha sternly asserted, effectively cutting him off. “Just doing a check-up—they were exposed to some radioactive material but it should be fine.” In a much softer tone, she added on, “Y/N was asking for you.”

Breath hitching in his throat, Steve nodded and a quiet thank you left his lips as he jogged out of his room. 

The few minutes of silence as he rushed to the infirmary did nothing good for his worrying. He passed by a pretty bruised-up Clint lounging across the waiting seats, pressing an ice cube to a gash on his forehead, and gestured to the double doors across from him. He knew of Steve’s budding relationship with you (because Natasha made it her personal mission to embarrass the poor guy) and could only assume that he’d come rushing here for you. The polished floors squeaked under his shoes as he came to a sudden halt, briefly saluting Clint thanks before knocking twice. Before he got a response, he slowly pushed the doors open, peeking his head in.

You were seated on the edge of the hospital bed, still in your mission’s attire, hair rumpled and a bit of dried blood on the side of your jaw, but you looked to be otherwise just fine. Doctor Cho was beside you, tapping her pen against a clipboard as she took note of your blood pressure. 

“Hey, old man. Long time no see,” you said with a toothy grin when you heard the door creak open. “You missed the funniest thing on the mission. There was this—”

Steve strode forward, and before you could finish your sentence, he knelt down and enveloped you into a tight embrace, nose pressing against the crown of your head. 

Your words were muffled into his shirt, which eventually died away when you noticed that he clearly was too emotional to listen to your amusing story of how Clint tripped on a big rock and cut his head. He smelled so good, like clean laundry and those tree-scented car fresheners. Steve barely registered Doctor Cho shifting awkwardly and excusing herself out of the room, entirely fixated by the way your arm loosely curled around his shoulders as you hugged him back.

“Whose blood is that?” he asked without pulling away from you.

“Not mine,” you assured him.

“Nat told me you were asking for me,” said the blonde, gingerly pulling away from you to meet your eyes. His hand went under your chin to tilt your head around, as if reaffirming that you were perfectly fine. “Exposed to radioactive material? What happened? Are you hurt?”

“Looks like someone missed me,” you laughed at his mother henning, bringing your hand up to wrap around his, holding it close to your chest. “The wrong kind of people were trying to steal stuff that could potentially be used for biological warfare—we intercepted, but one of the cases broke and I had to use my powers to forge a new one. I was only exposed for a couple seconds, but it was enough to warrant a check up. We had to back off because they were in possession of the last case and threatened to drop it into the city’s main water supply.”

Steve’s brows knitted together as you spoke. “We gotta go stop them, then—”

“They think they have the last case,” you said, a hint of a smile dancing across your lips.

“You used your powers to make a fake,” Steve whispered in realization. “You’re a genius.”

Waving away his praise, you leaned forward, gripping him tighter. “Enough about that! Did you listen to the playlist?”

His chest rumbled as he laughed. You had just gotten back from a dangerous mission and you were asking about him. 

“I was around halfway through,” he said, grinning softly.

“Guess you’ll just have to listen to the rest with me,” you quipped, craning your neck to swiftly kiss his cheek. When you pulled back just a little, you did it ever so slowly, hovering close enough so that your noses brushed against one another. 

Heat flushed across his face. His heart palpitated painfully against his ribcage. His stormy eyes flickered down to glance at your lips, then moved up again to meet your eyes. All he saw was you.

“You can kiss me, Stevie,” you mumbled against him, giving him the green light he was waiting for. “I promise I won’t bite. Unless you’re into that. I mean, you’re a super soldier, would you even feel th—mmh!”

That spurred him to shift forward, capturing your lips with his and effectively interrupting your thoughts before he could get any more flustered, foreheads bumping against one another. After recovering from your initial shock, you tugged him closer by the lapels of his shirt, tilting your head to the side so he could fold into you ever so perfectly. It felt as if a fire was crawling around his veins, consuming him entirely. Your skin was cold against his, quelling the burning sensation dancing over his skin. 

You smiled into the mouth, laughing against his lips when he drifted his fingers up your side. “That tickles,” you murmured, pressing butterfly kisses on the corners of his lips and the tip of his nose. 

Steve couldn’t help it. He began laughing as well, muffled when you slapped his tickling hands away, kissing him harder.

The two of you stayed that way for what felt like hours—breaths turned ragged and chests heaving, when really it was only about five minutes. By the stroke of the sixth minute, Tony strode into the infirmary room uttering, “Knockity knock knock,” despite not knocking.

“Woah!” he exclaimed upon seeing the two of you in such… close proximities. “Took you two long enough. Barnes owes me twenty bucks. And, Jesus, hang a sock on the door, Rogers! I know you’re old, and not at all accustomed to the sexual customs of our generation, but I do not want to see my recently-radiated best friend swap spit with you.”

You rolled your eyes, sticking your tongue out at him. “Nice to see you, too, Tony. And yeah, your recently-radiated friend is just peachy, thanks for asking!”

Tony glared at you. “Please, if you weren’t ‘just peachy’ Rogers wouldn’t be shoving his tongue down your throat.” Steve looked like he wanted to object, but he cleared his throat and diverted his gaze to the floor instead. Tony barked out a laugh, rotating on his heel to head back out. “Good to see you’re okay, kid. Remember to wrap it before you tap it!”

As soon as he was gone, Steve groaned, dropping his head against your chest, flustered beyond relief. 

“Does he always have to be so crass?” he asked, wrinkling his nose with embarrassment. 

“That’s Tony for you.” You shook your head with amusement. Then, your voice a notch softer, you asked, “Hey, Stevie?”

He hummed in response, lifting his head to look at you.

“You remember when you said you weren’t sure if you’d want to go back to the forties or not?”

Steve blinked in mild surprise. “Yeah?”

Your expression betrayed your clear hesitance as you swallowed uncomfortably. “Do you think you’d go now?”

“No, sweetheart,” he whispered, bending closer so his nose brushed yours. “I’d never leave you. Not ever. I wasn’t going to leave in the first place, because I could never leave my friends and family here. But you… you make me feel not guilty for being happy. Like I deserve a life of my own—with you. And I think the quiet becomes more bearable when you’re around me. I don’t think so much of the past with you because… well, because I’m thinking of our future.”

A heartbreakingly bright smile painted your lips golden, and you shook your head fondly. It might’ve just been a trick of the infirmary’s painfully artificial lights, but he could’ve sworn he saw the glimmering film of tears briefly gloss over your eyes. “Did you just come up with that on the spot?” The two of you laughed into each other, and you pressed a gentle kiss just under his eyes. “You’re something else, Stevie, I’ll tell you that.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” he said, unable to stop smiling, before capturing your grin with his once more.

dove

pairing: steve rogers x avenger!wife!reader!

summary: steve doesn't know how to feel after finding a letter three months after your unexpected death

warnings: mental health struggles, implied/metions of suicide... greiving steve :(

wc: 1.3k

Steve had never been as wrecked as he was these last three months. Nothing had ever stopped him or slowed him down. Nothing until now. Nothing until that day 90 days ago. 90 days ago when he lost the best thing to ever happen to him. 90 days ago he lost you.

No one saw this coming. How could they? You seemed fine. You always said you were fine. No one, not even Steve saw through the wall you built. Steve, your husband, your soulmate, the love of your entire life, couldn't even see your struggle. He couldn't even see that you were breaking down. You refused to let anyone know you were breaking down. That was your thing. You were always fine, you were the 'mom' of the group. It was you who checked up on everyone to make sure they were okay. You cooked for everyone every meal of every day. You were adored by everyone. Everyone in your avengers family loved you. You refused to let them see how you really felt. You refused to let them know you were struggling and you refused to ask for help.

Steve blamed himself. "She'd still be here if I had just noticed, Buck" He had whispered, head in hands the day of your funeral as he sat beside Bucky. He blamed himself for not noticing, for not getting and giving the help you needed, for not being there for you when you really needed it most. He constantly reminded himself of that morning and the last time he'd seen you before finding you.

Steve watched with a small smile as you put what felt like a million plates from breakfast back in the cupboards. "Perfect as always, Sunshine" Tony complimented, squeezing your shoulders with a grin as he passed. "Very well done, Mrs Rogers" Vision said, stopping in the doorway. "Vision, you can't eat my food" You reminded with a playful smile that didn't reach your eyes. Steve would've noticed had you not had your back to him. "I know but I feel somewhat bad that I'm the only one you don't receive praise from" He explained. "Well, thank you." The kitchen fell into a comfortable silence as you closed the cupboard and leaned against the counter, back still toward Steve as he got up and gently pulled you back against his chest, wrapping his arms around you lovingly. "I love you, Steve." You told him quietly, finally deciding to look up at him. Your heart broke a little seeing his loving smile. "I'll love you forever," You say as he grips his favourite shirt of yours in his hands, looking down at you with a small smile. "I love you too, dove... forever. No matter what" Dove. Dove was his name for you. You loved it. You'd miss it.

He sees now why you said what you said so out of the blue. You told him you loved him every day but never like that. Never so out of the blue. Steve hated how he didn't see that then... but how could he have seen it? He couldn't have. He hated that.

Some days of these thoughts and missing you were worse than others. Today happened to be one of the worse. He spent the whole morning on a run with Bucky to help distract himself though it never worked. Thoughts would pop into his head as he ran past the many places you would stop, out of breath and begging him to slow down. "Sometimes I think you forget that not every one is a fucking super soldier that can run what feels like a million miles per hour" You would chuckle as you tried to catch your breath. "I'm sorry, dove" Steve would say, kissing your forehead. "Race you back to the compound?" "You're on, Cap" Shaking the thoughts off, he returned to the compound and went straight to you're drawer. The drawer he hadn't dared to go into since the night he found you on the bathroom floor. He pulled out your shirt. The Nirvana t-shirt you'd had since the 90's. The one that was Steve's favourite on you. Your favourite. The one that to Steve, smelt like home. Home smelt like you.

Steve brought the material into his hands and to his surprise, a white envolope fell to the floor. My hero written across the front into your handwriting. He could've sworn his heart stopped for a second. Steve hesitated before picking it up and moving to the bed and taking a seat. He just stared at it. He stared for 10 minutes. Was this your goodbye? If it was, why was he finding it three months later?

He opened it.

To my hero,

I want to start by saying that I love you. Steve, I love you more than words can even say and i'd like to think you know that. None of this is your fault so don't for one second think that it is. Don't blame yourself. This is entirely my doing.

I didn't want to burden you with my issues. I knew one day they would all become too much. I'm sorry I never asked for help. It's not that I didn't want to, it's that I didn't know-how. I wanted to be strong. I wasn't strong enough.

Please don't think I didn't enjoy my life because I did. Oh my God, Steve, I really did. Becoming an Avenger, meeting you, marrying you and sleeping beside you every night was everything to me and I'm so thankful that it happened. I don't know what I'm gonna do without you, Cap.

Steve, I'm sitting here right now writing this to you unafraid of what's about to happen. In my eyes it was inevitable. It has been for a very very long time.

I don't know when you're going to find this. I don't know how long it will take you to want the comfort of me again. It might be a few hours or a few years. God, I am so sorry if it's a few years... or even a few months. I'm sorry for the pain and hurt i've caused you. You and everyone else. I just couldn't do it anymore.

Please tell Natasha thank you and that I love her. Tell her she was the best sister I could've ever asked for. Tell Peter that I'm sorry I missed the movie night... I know how much he really cares about them. Tell Tony thank you. Thank you for everything he's ever done for me. And tell Bucky thank you. I know he's there for you. Tell him he can be mad at me for doing this just as long as he's there for you.

I'm sorry I left but it was for the best. Though it will never feel right

All my love,

Your Dove

Steve sat. He sat and he stared. He didn't know how to feel.

"Mr Rogers, Mr Stark has requested you in the kitchen" FRIDAY's voice rang through the room. Steve sat still. He heard yet he didn't. He continued to stare down at your words.

He didn't even look up when there was a knock at his door before it was swung open. "Hey, Steve, Tony wants us--" Nat began, stopping mid-sentence when she saw the tears slowly running down Steve's cheeks. Tears he didn't even realise were there. "What's that?" She questioned, stepping into the room and peering over his shoulder. Steve lowered his head, wiping his cheeks quickly as she read. "Oh, sunshine, I love you too" She whispered not loud enough for Steve to hear as she silently held back the tears that threatened to spill anytime you were brought up. You were her little sister, her best friend, her everything. . "You okay?" Natasha finally asked

"Yeah. I'll be down in a minute" Steve sighed as she backed out of the room. He sat for a second staring. My hero "Dove, if I'm your hero, why didn't you let me save you"

hide and seek | steve rogers

summary | While collecting the Tesseract and Pym Particles in the 70s, you watched as your boyfriend sees Peggy once again.

words | 1.4k+

genres | angst

pairing | endgame!steve rogers x avenger!reader

warnings | endgame spoilers

note | So... Basically, THIS one is why I made a Tumblr account. like, I needed this out of my head. Anyway, here it is. Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated :)

masterlist

“Excuse me! Out of the way!”

Your eyes met Steve’s as you heard Hank Pym’s rushed voice outside the room you two were hiding at. He gave you a single nod, indicating for you both to go. You were the first one to step out of the office. Wearing a white blouse and dark blue office pants, you managed to fit in the settings as a faux SHIELD agent in the 70s. While your boyfriend, on the other hand, is dressed in green khakis and a low-pulled cap as one of the soldiers.

Your heart is still in the same rapid pace ever since you, Steve, and Tony arrived at this timeline in Camp Lehigh. This whole thing was not part of the plan. You four, including Scott, were only supposed to get the Mind Stone in 2012’s Battle of New York. But with things not going according to plan, you ended up looking for the said stone in another timeline. Being a then-agent of SHIELD, you memorized the organization’s history and even maps. 

Steve didn’t want you to go with them at first, expressing worries about the possible dangers ahead. You and Steve have been together for years now. You were co-workers before any of this, and you already talked about the pros and cons of being an Avenger. But after a quick talk and backup from Tony, he lets you go with them. You tried to remain optimistic as you three prepare the timeline in your gadgets. But you were internally screaming as this is not part of the plan and you always prefer things in the plan. Natasha told you she always felt the same way too in every kind of mission she does, she just doesn’t let the team know. But when your boyfriend reached for your hand before traveling through time again, you felt a tiny sense of relief in your head.

That’s how you ended up here. Spotting Hank Pym’s name on one of the doors, you and Steve quietly walked into the laboratory. 

“Thank God, he doesn’t have any assistant here,” you whispered as you both looked around the place.

You were looking around the place when you hear Steve say, “Doll, it’s here.”

When you turned your head at him, his hand was already retrieving enough Pym Particle vials. He looked back at you with a smile as he slid the vials carefully into both of his pockets, “Let’s get out of here.”

Just like earlier, you exit the laboratory first with him following behind, looking down. Tony advised you two to walk in that order. So that, any type of attention can be avoided towards the Captain. You were even surprised how the female agent in the elevator, who talked directly at you after Tony stepped out, did not recognize who was the man behind you. You were closed to the elevator when you see the same woman with two uniformed guys.

“You’ve never seen either of these people before?” one asked, making you pause as you heard him.

Your eyes moved to the agent, “No. But I have an eye for this. Something looked fishy.”

Your eyes widened and about to turn around to Steve when you felt him pulling you in one of the doors again.

“Oh, shit. That was close.” you exhaled a big puff of air before chuckling. You heard Steve chuckle too.

The room was dimmed and empty of people so you did not waste any more attention examining the whole office. When you heard the people you were hiding on passed by, you turned to Steve.

“Babe, let’s–”

You stopped when you noticed him taking a step closer to a table. He was eyeing one of the framed pictures there. Your eyebrows scrunched before moving your sight to the picture. It was him. Steve. Before he got the super-soldier serum. Immediately, you cocked your head to see what was labeled on the door.

MARGARET CARTER

DIRECTOR

You let out a quiet gasp at the same time you sensed a heavy feeling in your stomach. Then, you looked back. Steve was staring at the door too. His expression… was something though. You tried to read him but the more his emotions became evident on his face, your heart was twisted tighter and tighter. His dark blue eyes transitioned from surprise to longing and you swore you heard your heart breaking.

It was like everything around him went blank and silent. Steve held the frame in his hands and when he heard a door slam shut, he looked up. In between the glass and its blinds, he sees her. Peggy. It was like he sensed his own heart beating heavier and slower. He held the picture frame firmer in his hands. It has been twenty-five years since he died but she still kept his image on her desk.

“Oh, for the love of- I’ll find the weather projections. You call Braddock and tell him to shelter in place. Assuming he’s bright enough to come out of the rain.”

He watched her as she seemed infuriated while conversing with a guy. And when she walked closer to the glass to read through the files, Steve absentmindedly walked closer too. Just to see her closer again at this state, behind the blinds. He takes in her blue eyes, her scarlet red lips, and the same dark brown she always sported. For the first time in years since he came back from ice, he sees the same Peggy he met before anything happened.

“It’s not lightning strikes he’s looking at…”

Peggy spun and strolled outside her office, unaware of two other people watching her back from the other side of the glass. The door slammed once again and Steve looked down. He let out a small but heavy sigh, sensing a mixed emotion of slight frustration and sadness.

“S-Steve?” your shaky voice called him out.

His head snapped up as he heard you. He remembered you were there with him too. Regret immediately sinks into his skin. Behind him, you watched everything happen. The more seconds passed by when he was looking at her, the more you felt harder to breathe. Steve barely hid anything from you about Peggy. He told stories from his past and you always listen and understand who she was in his life. He never fails to explain that he already moved past her and everything that happened in his past. But seeing him almost dazed after seeing Peggy again, revived that insecurity you had in the beginnings of your relationship. His reaction dug up those thoughts you thought you buried deep in your mind years ago.  

You swallowed the imaginary lump you felt in your throat before you spoke again, “Let’s go?” 

He nods and you stepped outside. Steve continued looking down, still avoiding any eye contact from everyone. That’s when he noticed your hands both formed into clenched fists on each side of your body. Like you were keeping things to yourself. Fortunately, the elevator was empty as you two rode in. But he persisted in staring down while guilt ate him up like an early breakfast. He stole a few short glances at you and you were just staring ahead with your arms crossed. The only sound that was made was you letting out a long, chilling sigh. Up until you arrived back on the camp’s grounds, you remained quiet. You and Steve are now walking side by side but it was like you two were miles and miles apart.

Steve gulped before he broke the silence, “Let’s wait here.”

You followed him, standing in between military vehicles. You see him nodding at someone, so you tracked his gaze and see Tony pointing to his briefcase while holding a bouquet of flowers. Out of relief, your lips formed a tentative smile before you noticed a familiar man approaching him.

“It’s Howard…” you whispered.

Tony hugged his father one last time before walking to you and Steve. He wore a contented smile on his face and somehow, your heart felt a little happy. But when your eyes met Steve’s baby blue ones, that happiness quickly faded. Steve, on the other hand, just wanted to talk to you as soon as possible. But knowing you, your main priority would be finishing this mission.

There was a big silence and obvious tension. Even Tony felt it. He watched as you and your boyfriend share glances. Now wanting to waste any more time, he decided to just break the awkward surface. 

“Let’s go, guys. Better bring this blue stone before anyone notices us.”

He was successful, splitting your distracted minds. You two nodded and began clicking on your gadgets again. Before time traveling once again, you did not expect Steve to give your hand a soft squeeze again. Your emotions did not change but you simply nodded. 

“Let’s go.”

Confessions

Steve Rogers x Reader

A/N 'SUP BITCHES, I'M BACK TO POSTING... But on a serious note kinda I think at this point I've got to accept that I haven't got the mental capacity or attention span to regularly post on Tumblr. Also, there will be a part two to this. maybe even a part three. I also want to thank those who have continously supported my other posts although I haven't posted any new fics in months I love you all. And as always likes, comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

THIS IS NOT AN 18+ FIC BUT I STILL FEEL UNCOMFORTABLE WITH MINORS READING MY FICS SO PLEASE DNI IF YOU ARE A MINOR.

Summary Confessions are made and discussed, changing the dynamics between you, Steve and Bucky

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

Warnings Fluff and angst.....lots of angst.

Today, you and Steve were going on your monthly date. You were dressed in the new outfit you bought with Natasha the day before. Your makeup was minimal, and your hair was in Steve’s favourite style. He wouldn't admit it, but every time you do your hair like this, it always ends in some mind-blowing orgasms. 

“Are you ready, doll?” Steve shouted from the bedroom as you were checking your outfit in the floor-to-ceiling mirror in your ensuite.

“Yes, I just need to get my bag and phone,” you responded.

“I’ve already got them for you.” 

You walked out of the bathroom, smiling at your boyfriend since he knew how forgetful you are. He held up your bag and you checked it to ensure nothing had been forgotten, and unsurprisingly, everything you needed was in there. 

“Thanks, babe,” you told him before pressing a kiss to his lips. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You had arrived at the restaurant just in time for your reservation. Steve made sure to open the door before you could open it for yourself, and you thanked him. You approached the host stand and waited for a minute before a waitress with long, purple hair and an array of piercings approached you.

“Do you guys have a reservation for tonight?” She asked with a smile.

“Yes, for Rogers,” Steve told her.

She typed on the laptop on the desk, “Ah, yes.” She clicked on something and then asked you to follow her. 

She took you to a table in the far corner of the restaurant, which meant you and Steve could have more privacy. Both of you thanked the waitress after she handed you a couple of menus.

“I didn’t think you were going to take me somewhere so expensive, I would’ve worn nicer clothes,” you told Steve, looking around the large restaurant with dim lighting and elegant tables and chairs. “The menu doesn’t even have the prices on it.”

Steve playfully rolled his eyes and responded, “ Firstly, my love, you wouldn’t be comfy in your nicer clothes, and secondly, you’re not paying, so order what you want and I’ll pay.”

You stuck your tongue out at him and proceeded to look through the menu while talking to Steve about your week. 

After 10 minutes, the waitress returned, and you and Steve ordered your drinks and food. She returned a minute later with your drinks, telling you that your food would be out shortly.

You both put your menus to the side and looked at each other. There was a tension in the air and neither of you wanted to discuss it.

After a minute of being uncomfortable, you huffed and broke the silence, “So, Bucky.” 

“Yeah, Bucky,” Steve responded, looking down.

“Y’know you don’t have to feel guilty,” you tried to grab his hand but he just pulled away- your eyes softened at the action.

“I do,” he took a deep, shaky breath “I confessed to my girlfriend of 3 years that I have a crush on my childhood best friend.” 

“You don’t need to be ashamed Steve, you can love another man.”

“I know…it.. it's not that.”

“Then what is it, babe? I can’t begin to help you if you don’t tell me where the issue is.” 

“Do you not see the issue, I love you and Bucky….If you make me choose…I-”

You cut him off before he could say more, “Who said you had to choose?”

“Wh…what?”

“I really didn’t want to tell you this but I have a thing for you AND Bucky but when we got together I didn’t want to tell you that I also found your best friend of over 80 years hot.” 

Steve’s face scrunched up in confusion, “So why did you agree to go out with me, darlin’?”

You smiled “Because you asked me first and I assumed that since you approached me, I wasn’t Bucky’s type. But that’s ok because you’re amazing. I truly feel the same way about you and Bucky. I-I just didn’t want to admit it for a long time.”

A smile had crept its way onto Steve’s face. “So where do we go from here?”

“Well, it depends on what you want. If you want to continue our relationship then I’ll be happy but if you want to pursue a relationship with Bucky then I'm equally as happy. Your happiness is what determined my happiness so if you have to be with Bucky to be happy I'm not making you choose, I'm simply letting you love the person you want to not who you feel like you should love,” tears had started to gather in your waterline and Steve’s too. You were about to continue but Steve got there first.

“But I want both of you,” his voice cracked on the last word and your heart shattered.

“You can have both of us, I was just about to say that we could discuss adding Bucky to our relationship.

Steve looked you in the eye, “Really?” he was wiping away the tears that had started to fall, “how does that work?” 

“Have you heard of polyamory before?” Steve just shook his head in response “Well, it's a word used to describe a relationship involving more than two people.”

“You would do that?” he asked his tone hopeful.

“Of course I would I love you so so so much and Bucky is so sweet and amazing,” you replied with a smile.

Steve was about to respond but the waitress came along with your food and placed it on the table in front of you and Steve.

“We can continue this talk after dinner,” you offered to which Steve agreed. 

You ate your food in a comfortable silence. It wasn’t long before you both finished and decided against dessert in favour of getting back to the compound and talking to Bucky. 

The waitress brought the bill over and Steve paid, leaving a hefty tip as you both left, hand in hand, getting yourselves ready to talk to Bucky about your…… shared interest in him.

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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.

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Steve Rogers Masterlist

(Thanks to @buckys-wintersoldier for the picture above)

PLEASE READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE READING SINCE SOME FICS ARE 18+. MINORS FUCK OFF, ALTHOUGH NOT ALL OF MY FICS ARE 18+ I STILL FEE UNCOMFY WITH PEOPLE UNDER 18 READING MY FICS. ALSO, IF YOU DON'T LIKE SOMETHING THEN DON'T READ IT.

Fluff-💕

Smut-🔥

Angst-😢

Oneshots

Forbidden fruit-🔥💕

Cuddles-💕

Overlooked-💕😢

Clingy-💕

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