Marvel Oneshots

Steve Rogers x Reader - Bathroom

REQUESTED

Y/N's P.O.V.

My brother and I always knew that we wanted to serve our country, just like our father and his father before him. We just went different ways in doing it.
Riley became a pararescueman, working with the 58th rescue squadron in the US Air Force.
I became an agent of SHIELD, working out in the field.
It was in the Air Force that he met his best friend, Sam Wilson. After my brother was killed during a mission, Sam took me under his wing, he was there for me, acting on my big brother's behalf

"Y/N, you here?" The familiar voice of my close friend called out.

"Kitchen!" I called, turning to look towards the doorway, before wincing in pain. I dropped the knife, stepping back from the chopping board and grimacing down at the cut. It was small, but deep and there was already a lot of blood. I moved to run the cut under some water, hearing two sets of shuffling footsteps approaching.
"Ow... Sam can you grab me the small first aid kit from the bathroom?"

"I think we're going to need the big kit." He replied and I turned to look at him, my eyes widening in shock. Sam Wilson and Steve Rogers were stood in my kitchen, both of them looking ready to collapse.
I had met Steve on several occasions, he was a great guy and I'm pretty sure our mutual friend, Natasha, tried to set us up at one point.

"Sit. Both of you." I ordered firmly, before storming out of the room and getting the first aid kit. My own injury forgotten as I went back to the kitchen and pulled medical gloves on.
"Neither of you got shot or stabbed, did you? I have the stuff, but I'd prefer it if you owned up to it, before you collapsed from blood loss." I began to clean the cut on Sam's head and he pulled a face.

"Steve's got-"

"I'm fine." Steve cut him off and I looked at the super soldier with a raised eyebrow.
"Check Sam our first. He's the one that took most of the hits." I sighed, nodding my head.
Sam's injuries were a matter of cuts and bruises, maybe a concussion too, but they were all cleaned up within a matter of minutes.

"Go upstairs and go to bed." I looked at Sam.
"The spare room is yours. You didn't need stitches, but next time you show up to my house, injured, you will."

"Yes, ma'am." Sam saluted, getting up and walking away. I heard him going up the stairs, before there was a muffled;
"Love you, Y/N!"

"Jesus Christ..." I muttered, looking at Steve. He had a cut on his cheek, but there was nothing fatal. I took a antiseptic wipe, before reaching out and cleaning the cut, which must have stung, because Steve reached up, putting his hands on my waist.
"Are you going to tell me what Sam was going to say before you cut him off?" I muttered as I wiped the cut again. His hold on my waist tightened slightly and I dropped the wipe with the rest of the used medical items.
Steve let go of my waist, taking off his jacket, before lifting up the edge of his tee and revealing a bloody gash, just above his hip.

"It's just a scratch. One of the guys caught me with their knives." He muttered and I rolled my eyes.

"Bathroom." I ordered and he looked confused.
"That's going to need stitches. The bathroom has better lighting and it will make this a lot easier for the both of us." He nodded his head and he got up with a small wince and I led the way. He jumped up onto the counter and I opened up the first aid kit again.
"Any other injuries I need to know about?" He shook his head and I sighed.
"Alright, Rogers, can you-" He took his shirt off and I blinked a few times.
"I was going to ask you to lift it up, but that works too." I muttered, my eyes roaming all over his bare chest and torso.

"You're staring, L/N." He chuckled and I grabbed another antiseptic wipe.

"Keep smirking and I'm going to smack it off of your face." I warned jokingly, making him laugh more. Although the smile quickly faded when I began to clean the cut. A low groan escaped his lips and it was my turn to smirk.
"What?" I asked innocently, earning a glare.

"You're enjoying this a little too much, don't you think, L/N?" He asked and I nodded my head proudly, wiping the cut again. Now that it was clean and there was no blood, I could see clearly that stitches weren't necessary.

"Maybe I just like watching you squirm." I teased.
"Well, Rogers, it looks like I misjudged your injuries. You're good to go." He didn't move and I looked at him in confusion.
"Unless there's something else-" He cut me off, pressing his lips to mine as he slid off of the counter. I hesitated for a moment, before kissing back. He broke the kiss after a few moments, his cheeks pink with a blush.

"Sorry." He cleared his throat and I smirked a little.

"I'm not." His eyes widened and I closed the first aid kit.
"You want the couch or the bed?"

"I- uh- couch." He cleared his throat as I cleared up the mess.

"Alright." I nodded, leaving the bathroom.
"Get some rest. You need it. Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

~

I woke up with a groan, rolling out of bed and getting dressed. The house was suspiciously quiet as I left my room and going downstairs, I found a note next to a plastic bag. Picking the note up, I looked at it carefully, not believing my eyes.

Y/N,
Thanks for patching us both up, I owe you one
We had to go, we left halfway through the mission and had to get back.
Steve wanted to wake you up, but I knew you'd never let us leave.
I ran to the store before we left and got you some breakfast
A peace offering if you will
I'll give you a call when we're in the clear later, but until then
Wish us luck
- Sam.

"You bastard." I muttered in disbelief, dropping the note and going upstairs to grab my phone. I immediately called Sam, but it went straight to his voicemail. Calling Steve had the same result. 
I let out a scream of frustration, before going back downstairs and dropping onto the couch, calling them both again.

~

The sound of my front door opening caught my attention and I jumped up off of the couch.

"Hi-"

"Samuel Thomas Wilson!" I glared at him as he stepped through the door.
"And Steven Grant Rogers!" The blond trailed in behind him, both of them looking more beat up than they were when they came to me 24 hours ago.
"How dare you! Do you know how worried I was?!"

"Y/N..." Sam sighed, stepping towards me, but before I could stop myself, I slapped him. The room fell into silence as tears stung my eyes.

"You left without saying goodbye, just like he did." I muttered and realisation covered Sam's face.
"You left just like Riley did and I didn't think you were coming back."

"Y/N..." Sam sighed heavily and I didn't have the willpower to fight back as he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into a tight hug.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that to you. It won't happen again, I promise."

"It better not." I mumbled and Sam broke the hug, stepping back.

"How about I make you dinner as an apology?" Sam suggested, a hopeful look in his eyes.
"I'll make your favourite and the three of us can have a movie night?"

"I've actually got to go soon." Steve pointed out.
"But I'm sure you two will survive without me."

"You bet." Sam nudged him and Steve winced slightly.
"Y/N?"

"Fine." I agreed and Sam moved towards the kitchen.
"You alright?"

"Sore." Steve nodded with a sheepish smile.
"About what happened in the bathroom..." He cleared his throat.
"Would you like to go out to dinner with me? I know this great place, it's okay if you want to say no-"

"I'd love to." I smiled, finding his nervousness adorable.
"Friday?"

"Yeah, sounds good." His cheeks were bright pink.
"I'll pick you up at 8?"

"Sounds good." I nodded.