Love Me (Steve Rogers Fanfiction)

Chapter 3

There's a moment where I actually can't speak, so I just start nodding vigorously. Tears spring to my eyes, but they're happy tears. A grin spreads onto my face. "Yes. Yes!" He slides the ring onto my finger, face alight with happiness. It's a thin gold band with a little pearl in the center. I love it. Then what just happened sinks in. "We're getting married!" I throw my arms around him and he spins me around before setting me down and giving me a long kiss.

"I love you," he says between kisses.

"I love you, too." We eventually break apart, and I grin. "Let's go tell everyone! Did anyone know you were going to do that?"

"Only Sam, but I've been meaning to ask you for a while."

I smack my forehead. "That's what you were trying to ask me the other day?"

"Yeah," he says, laughing. I join in. The night is golden and it's just getting started. We walk back into the party hand-in-hand and immediately run into Sam, who grins.

"Looks like that went well," he jokes. "Congratulations. I'm happy for the two of you."

"Who are we congratulating?" Nat asks, joining the conversation. I hold up my hand, showing off the ring. She takes my hand to look at it closer. "Congratulations! About time, Rogers," she adds, winking.

"You know what, Romanoff?"

"What's this big group?" Bruce asks. He looks more relaxed than usual.

"Cap finally stopped dragging his feet and popped the question," Natasha quips, taking a drink.

"No way!"

"Wait, what's going on?" Tony asks interestedly, shooing away the girl he was talking to.

"Okay, okay, hold on. Pause the music," Steve says, holding up his hands. When everyone quiets down, he grins at me. "We're engaged!" Everyone applauds as I pull Steve in for another kiss.

We're the center of attention for a while, with everyone coming over to congratulate us. I say the phrase 'thank you' more than I ever have in my life, and I'm more than happy to do it. I keep glancing down at my ring to make sure it's still there. It's so delicate and light. Eventually, we slip away and join Thor at the bar.

"I congratulate the two of you," he says in his booming voice.

"Thanks, Thor," I reply, smiling the smile I can't seem to wipe off of my face.

"I gotta have some of that!" An old man says, pointing to the drink.

"Oh, no, no, no," Thor says, laughing. "See this, this was aged for a thousand years, in the barrels built from the wreck of Brunhilde's fleet, it's not meant for mortal men." He pours the two of us a small golden drink. I guess super-soldiers aren't 'mortal men.'

"Neither was Omaha Beach, blondie. Stop trying to scare us. Come on!" says another old man with a mustache and sunglasses. Thor shrugs.

"Alright." Not even five minutes later, a few men have to lead him away from the bar as he sings a drinking song. I roll my eyes playfully and turn to Steve, who raises the glass to me. I do the same, and we drink. It tastes like liquid gold, sweet and bubbly and crisp.

A slower song comes on, and I grab his hand. "Come on, I owe you a dance."

Smiling, he takes my hand and pulls me close. I lay my head on his chest, swaying to a Billy Joel song I can't quite remember the name of. "I thought you said you couldn't dance."

"I said I don't dance. There's a difference."

He chuckles, giving me a soft kiss on the forehead. The song ends too quickly, and we go to sit with the group, who are all crowded around a table.