Steve Rogers Imagines

Okay. Go.

Chris rolled his eyes. “It’s too early in the morning for a pun, dear.”

Y/N giggled. “Admit it, baby.

Chris groaned as he slid his hands up under her shirt again, running his fingers over her breasts. He kissed her, his tongue snaking into her mouth. She arched her hips off the bed, pushing her knickers down as Chris worked off her shirt.

“Call me whatever you want,” she said dreamily. “Just as long as you keep waking me up like this.”
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Christmas Eve

“That was lovely, don’t you think?”

Y/N looked at Chris, then squeezed his hand reassuringly. They were sitting in the back of a black taxi, heading home from dinner with Chris’s parents, his sisters, and their families. Despite the late hour, and the fact that they were expected at Y/N's mother’s house early on Christmas morning, Y/N was feeling energized.

Chris nodded slowly. “Of course, Dad had to ask about the business stuff. As if I had anything to do with how much money my movies make.”

“I think he’s just worried. No, that’s not quite right.” Y/N looked down at their hands, which were clasped in her lap, then back up at him. “I think he trusts that you know what you’re doing. He just needed to hear you say it.”

Chris smiled. “Is that what he said to you? When he pulled you aside before the pie?”

Y/N blushed. “Um, not quite.” When he began to frown, she smiled. “No, it was fine. He just wanted to know more about me. More about my childhood, education, work.”

“He wanted you to run down your CV?”

“Not quite. He, ah, wanted to know what my intentions are.” Y/N bit her lip.

“What?!”

“I told him we’re, you know, serious. We’re in love.” She shrugged. “We live together. I work here. But he asked me something.”

Before Chris could ask her what the question was, the cab stopped. They were home.

He paid the fare while Y/N let herself in. She held the door open for Chris, who took her coat once she closed the door behind him. Before heading up to bed, they cozied up on the couch to look at their Christmas tree. The coloured lights that blinked on, then chased around, the tree were the only lights on in the house.

“He asked if you asked me to move to Boston for you.” Chris looked at Y/N, whose head rested on his shoulder. She kept looking at the tree, and did not face him.

And before I could say anything, he said he thought it would be unfair of you to do that to me.”

“Because my work takes me overseas. Away from home. Away from you.” Chris closed his eyes and kissed her on the forehead.

“Chris,” Y/N said tenderly. “It’s just… we were talking about work, mine and then his, and then I was interrogating him about pharmaceutical patents. And this was all before we went through my favourite healthcare start-ups back home. We sort of geeked out on medicine and dental care.” She blushed when Chris chuckled. “Which is just a way of saying, he said it was nice to be able to talk about this stuff with me. And then he said I should come work for him!”

“Ha!” Chris looked pleased. “But how did you get on the topic of my past.”

“I’m getting to that! Y/N kissed him. “He liked that I seemed to be grounded. Serious.”

Chris nodded. “Grounded. I like the sound of that.”

“In fact, he sounded almost like my mother when I told her about you.”