You and Steve get to go to a mission together after a while; free drinks, partying, dressing-up nicely, stealing blueprints, the usual. You might even enjoy this as a couple.
Or not really. Of course something would go awry. What else did you expect when wearing these killer heels anyway?
Warnings: suggestive language, mentions of a kink, objectification, violence (brief), swearing (always), attempt at humour?
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A Matter of Trust
In your whole history as an operative of S.H.I.E.L.D. slash Avenger, time had never dragged so slowly as it did at this party.
Not even Steve's presence cheered you up, mostly because he was busying himself with being everyone's company but yours despite you two coming here together. For a mission. To work, you reminded yourself.
It wasn't like you hadn't been there for the plan-making which had resulted in mutual agreement of Steve falling into the role of an honourable man whose infamous good nature prevented him from saying no to anyone who asked for a moment with him even if it meant leaving you alone. Which you supposedly mind, because you were here with him only to sneak in here and possibly get your five minutes of glory if he stood by your side long enough
And that was only an act for people who would have noticed you had arrived together.
For the others, you simply attended the party – a known cover-up for a place of business in arms-deal among the powerful men of the underground world – to have fun and seduce some rich businessman.
Sipping from the very same glass of champagne you had helped yourself with about an hour ago, you scanned the room in the search for the big boss. No, not Steve, but the man of the hour, the one whose blueprints you were meant to steal. The blueprints of a potentially large bomb that could kill tens of thousands if it went kaboom and released the nanoparticles of a dangerous virus to the air.
Lovely. Someone clearly had too much time on their hands coming up with crap like that only to make your life miserable.
"What's a gorgeous lady like yourself doing at this party alone?" a velvety voice interrupted your dark musing and you vainly tried to cover the shudder running down your spine, cursing at the heat curling in your stomach.
Was this how he was talking to all the women who were throwing themselves at him tonight? Probably.
Had you been through that before? Yes.
Had you expected it to happen tonight? Sadly, yeah.
Was it bothering you? Hell the fuck yeah, even if you knew it shouldn't and that it didn't mean anything but Steve doing his job right.
You cursed mentally at your weakness and sighed out loud, spinning around to face the man.
"Waiting for a bulky blond supersoldier to come save her, naturally," you hissed back, hating yourself for letting your jealously get the better of you.
Steve had never ever made you as much as doubt that you were the one for him, but that green bitch of an emotion still intruded on you tonight. You blamed the upcoming visit from aunt flow and the rush of hormones arriving with it and the fact you were itching to leave and go home just for getting rid of those ridiculously high heels alone.
You usually enjoyed wearing high heels, they gave you confidence as gazes of many men and women followed you, but the stilettos you had got chosen tonight could be used as murder weapon.
Ha, maybe you could try and sell them here, you'd make a fortune here!
A frown appeared on Steve's face, one of curiosity, regret and surprise when he registered your irritated tone.
"What's wrong?" he demanded quietly, whispering to your ear intimately, only making the situation worse.
"You shouldn't be talking to me, Captain Rogers. You'll blow it."
His eyebrow jumped ridiculously high and you realized what you said; you groaned both at his cheekiness and your stupidity.
"Blow our cover. Get your mind out of the gutter..." you muttered, putting some distance between the two of you for the sake of the cover.
"Maybe I'm feeling a bit reckless tonight," he hummed back, his large palm resting on your lower back and you had to take a moment to swallow the blissful groan at his gesture. You loved his hands and the heels were not only killing your feet, but also you back, and the warmth radiating from his skin felt like heaven. "But seriously, are you okay?"
"You could have asked through the comm."
"I wanted to check up on you personally. So?" he insisted and you couldn't but sigh again, finishing your glass of champagne when you spotted Wagner, aka your target. You stepped away from Steve.
"Just tired. Want this to be over with. Go mingle, Steven."
Pausing when you took a note of the harshness in your tone, you found his concerned gaze over your shoulder, whispering as softly as you could: "Thank you for your concern... Captain."
You caught a glimpse of his discreet lopsided smile before turning away fully.
As you walked into the crowd, your long crimson dress curled around your feet with every step due to the provocative – read practical – slit ending mid-thigh. You hoped that the memory of watching you go would occupy his brain for some time while he talked to the flocks of both male and female admirers.
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Two hours. It took you another two hours to ensure you'd be safe sneaking into the Wagner's office slash bedroom.
Of course his bureau would be his bedroom; men like him knew nothing about good old sleep hygiene, because the thought of their money distracted them from the evil they were doing to the world and had them sleeping like babies.
Using the key-card you had snatched about three minutes ago, you easily entered the over-decorated room.
Looks like someone's compensating for something, you noted mentally, not losing any time and activating the no-prints mode on your gloves; one of the perks of working with Tony Stark. You were wearing the nanotech the whole evening and no one had a clue, because the particles were imitating your skin. You'd leave a print on the glass of champagne if you wanted; if you planned on rummaging someone else's office, leaving a trace was a different case and you wouldn't take any risks.
Systematically starting on the right from the door and working your way through everything that looked even remotely like a possible hideout, you didn't forget to gingerly place your palm over the wall-length closet so Friday could run scans.
God, you loved that Tony Stark was on the side of the angels despite not quite being one himself; according to him at least.
"No signs of anything else than overpriced shirts, tuxedos and sets for dom-sub play," the AI announced, barely audible, and you cringed. Not what you needed to know. "Cuffs are men's size. Dominatrix set for a wom-"
"Enough, enough! Gee, Friday..." you muttered under your breath, not liking the visual of Wagner in the middle of enjoying-
Gross.
"No need for that much detail..."
Shaking your head, you moved onto the desk; an obvious, perhaps too obvious choice, which was why you wouldn't place your bet on it. But hey, you could never be sure enough until you checked.
The sudden noise on your right had you drawing your gun at instant, your pulse skyrocketing.
The first thing you saw was a large frame of the newcomer and neatly combed blond hair. Your shoulders slumped.
Steve raised his hands as he moved from the doorway to stand inside, his face visibly relaxing at the sight of you searching another man's desk.
The door clicked shut behind him and you forced yourself to breathe in, shoving your gun back to the holster placed on your covered thigh.
"Jesus, Steve!" you whisper-yelled exasperatedly and resumed your inspection, paying him no mind anymore. You had more important things to do at the moment; not that you wouldn't do him; Steve in a tux was sight to behold, like hold onto THAT, literally get your hands on it, but you were here for a job.
"You weren't responding!" Steve replied in the same manner, causing you to freeze.
He had been trying to contact you? And you couldn't hear him? But-
"Oh," you let out intelligently, doing the math easily. "He must have some sort of a jammer in here, makes sense."
"Uh-huh."
"But I'm fine," you stated, shutting one drawer, opening another. "How did you even ge-- never mind. You should go-"
"Don't wanna cloooose my eyeees!"
The distant howl-like shout from the hall turned your blood into ice, your eyes widening.
You had studied Wagner the whole evening; you'd recognize his voice anywhere, even when he was singing 'I Don't Want to Miss a Thing' out of tune.
"-before THAT happens! Shit!"
As you pulled out your phone, the live-feed from the camera in the hall offered you a marvellous view.
Two gorilla-men were dragging Wagner towards his room as his feet barely kept him standing. Gorilla number three was walking behind them just in case that their boss' face decided to meet the floor despite the support offered to him.
Shit, shit, SHIT-
Closing the drawer you were currently scouring, lips pressed into a tight line, you eyed Steve; he was already bracing himself for the fight, caught in the middle of the process of discarding the jacket to have wider range of movements.
You whined internally – firstly, what a sight, it would always make you weak in knees no matter what. Secondly, if this was to end in a fight, the chances were that you'd make it out without the plans and you had spent the night in those killer heels for nothing.
Oh no, you don't-
"Cause I'd miss ya' BABY—I don't wanna miss a THIIIIING!"
Scanning the room once more, your mind running hundred miles a minute, your gaze fell on the huge-ass closet of which contents you had learned more than you'd like to.
Your lips parted in surprise at the plan forming in your own head.
This is a terrible idea.
It's yours!
Exactly.
Yeah, okay, fair enough-
NO TIME TO COME UP WITH A BETTER ONE-
Steve was kind enough to follow when you grabbed his arm and pulled him from his spot in the middle of the room, though he did shoot you an utterly confused look.
You met his eyes and gulped when the singing approached the room way too quickly to your liking.
"STILL MISS YA' BABY--"
"I need you to trust me now," you pleaded in hushed tone, seeing Steve's pupils go wide, covering the somewhat always warm blue of his irises.
"With what?"
Well, he asked for it.
"Get in the closet, now!"
A second of shocked silence followed your request before his brain made the connection and a scowl twisted his handsome face.
"What? No! I'm not leaving you alone to face them!" he raised his voice minutely and you covered his mouth to remind him that there were ears present, inching closer with each second passing.
"DON'T WANNA FAAAAALL ASLEEEEEEP-!"
"That's exactly what you'll do! That's easier to play off."
Steve very much not agreed if his eyes flashing with anger were anything to go by. His hand pushed yours away as he towered over you.
"I'm not leaving-"
"Look at the gorillas, Steve!" you shoved the phone to his face, unlocking the closet and throwing its door open. "One word from them to the rest of security and we're screwed. Get in!"
Something between a whine, a groan and a growl – neither of those sounds sexy given the circumstances – escaped his lips and you assumed he had to admit to himself that you were right.
Taking a mental note of his resistance diminishing, you easily pushed him towards the limited dark space.
"CAUSE EEEEEVEN WHEN I DREAM OF YOOOOOOOU- THE SWEETEST DREAM WILL NEEEVER DOOOOOO-"
"We can still play it off toge-" he tried to protest one more time but you pushed against his chest adamantly.
"And say what? This isn't what it looks like? We just happened to choose your office to get freaky? I'll handle it. Trust me."
Steve gave you his unfairly disarming pleading look, his puppy eyesTM, but backed into the closet without another word, clutching his previously stripped jacket to his chest, because he did trust you.
Fingers on the handle, you hesitated when you realized what could ruin the charade you came up with and planned on pulling off.
Swallowing hard at the terrible idea, you gave Steve a tiny encouraging smile as you drew your gun and three knives from your leg holster/sheath and pressed it to his hands.
"Hold these for me."
Swiftly closing the door, the last thing you saw was the horror on his face.
As the door swung open and you spun on your heels, he had no chance to react.
The loud song which had been reaching your ears for seemingly endless time died on Wagner's lips and the third extra gorilla of a man behind him instantly pulled out his gun.
And aimed it right at your face. While you had nothing to defend yourself but your bare hands.
Yay.
"Who are you?!" he thundered and like a charm, Wagner stood straight so the other two guards could have you at gunpoint as well.
Yet, what sent an unpleasant shiver through you was Wagner's sleazy eyes travelling from your killer heels to your ankles, up to your partly exposed thigh, your waist and finally settling on your cleavage, not bothering to make it higher to look into your eyes.
So. He's a pig. Shocker.
For once, you were grateful. Not that he was supposed to know that.
A sweet innocent smile spread on your lips as you eyed the weapons with what seemed to be almost a satisfaction, you hoped.
"A government agent, of course," you said, voice pitched just a bit higher than usual. You felt a bit sorry for Steve at the moment; you were well-aware of nearly giving him a heart attack by saying that. "I work with Captain America." Scratch the 'nearly'. Poor Steve's heart. "I was given the task to scour this place... very... thoroughly."
Your tone husky now, your teeth bit down on your lower lip, your eyes watching Wagner with faked interest. He hypnotized your red lips before shaking his head as if snapping from a haze.
"They told me you've been a bad, bad man. I kept my eye on you all evening," you admitted, not even having to lie.
The following smile you sent his direction was perhaps too predatory, but that could work. For him anyway.
"Who do you work for?!"
The guards were not as easily fooled as their drunk boss apparently; then again, you hadn't expected them to.
"Oh. A.R.M.O.R. America-Related Manpower Operatives and Reinforcements." God bless their hearts if they were going to buy that, seeing you were obviously trying to imitate the SHIEILD acronym. Very poorly. Playing it up, you let a giggle escape you before your expression turned serious, guilty even. "Oh. Probably shouldn't have said that. It's only my first time, you see. I finished my training few days ago."
"Mm... look at 'dat..." Wagner drawled and nope, it had nothing on the way Steve spoke when his accent peeked through drunk on Asgardian liquor or lust alone.
Not relevant.
Wagner waved off his guard dogs, gesturing to one of them to approach you. "Why don't we search you first?"
"Make it quick. I have..." you let your eyes trail over Wagner's body, licking your lips when visibly lingering on his crotch, "more important tasks at hand. I came here for a mission. I'd like it to... finish."
Two men instantly went to inspect you, patting you from the back, from the front, up and down, way longer and more thoroughly than necessary.
And they found what they were looking for.
One large palm harshly slipped between your thighs and you closed your eyes, willing yourself not to throw up at the pawing.
Gorilla One's head snapping up to you, he pulled out the only weapon left on you, handing it to his boss and Gorilla Two grabbed your wrists and locked it behind your back, causing you to nearly hiss in pain.
"Oops," you shrugged instead, burning gaze locked onto the man who was holding both your weapon and your life in his hands.
Your heart was beating frantically in anticipation, your confidence wavering as Wagner inspected the knife.
A slow smile spread on his face, his left eyebrow rising and then he finally, finally burst out laughing.
A confused 'what' sounded from behind you as the man's utterly smashed boss howled in hysterical laughter.
"This—this is GOL-DEN!" he choked out, tossing the item to the very man who had handed it to him.
"It's a stage-prop," Gorilla One sighed.
And that it was. Thank you, Natasha Romanoff.
"Oh. So it's fake."
"Told you I have more important things at hand... so if—my hands could find some release please..." you asked sweetly over your shoulder. The very next second, you remembered just what was in the closet; and you weren't thinking Steve. So you switched tactics. "That's an order, actually. Let. Me. Go."
"What the agent said, Greg," Wagner beckoned, still chuckling, a new twinkle appearing in his eye, his face free of mistrust. Gorilla Two, Greg apparently, released your hands with reluctance. You didn't bother thanking him. "And let her work. Off you go."
When the gorillas wavered for few moments, you felt your impatience grow along with the pain shooting up your calves. Damn heels.
"Have you not heard your superior? Do I need to teach you some discipline?"
Wagner licked his lips, taking two wobbly steps towards you. It seemed to seal the deal for the guards, because they left the room.
"Someone went out of their way to get you... Must be my birthday then," he grinned sleazily, his fingers twitching as if he craved to touch you, his hands stopping few inches from your hip. "I'm all yours, agent. Why don't you go on with the... thorough inspection?"
Straightening your posture, chin stuck up, you nodded curtly.
"Of course. Sir, I'll have to ask you to raise your hands to your head. Don't move otherwise. I'm gonna feel for weapons now."
"Yes, madam," he responded breathlessly, but the second you started the process, his hand landed on your hip.
You stopped in your search, locking serious gaze with him. His pupils were blown, eyes dark with lust. His fingers squeezed, his gaze flickering to your mouth as you stood nearly chest to chest.
"Sir, this is highly inappropriate. I'm gonna have to ask you-"
His palm slid to your bottom, fingers digging into the flesh.
You narrowed your eyes, not even having to pretend you didn't like that. You slapped his hand away, earning a sly grin. He didn't try again immediately, which you were endlessly grateful for. Instead, he obediently raised his arms so he looked ready to be either searched or crucified.
Oh, you'd gladly.
"Sorry, Agent, I couldn't help myself. What is such... pretty face like yourself doing in business like this?" he questioned in a husky voice and at that moment, you knew that your time spent around Tony Stark had taken its toll on you, because you simply couldn't resist that pass.
"Stealing intel from pricks like you," you mumbled under your breath, giving him just enough time to realize something was wrong.
A fraction of second later, the edge of your hand hit his throat, bruising his larynx and causing him to release a shocked huff of air. Kicking his knee next, your elbow met his face. A choked groan escaped his lips and you prayed to god he didn't truly find his voice to call the guards.
You elbowed him in his right temple for a good measure, incapacitating his other knee so he nearly sunk to the floor. You slipped around him in one swift movement; your arm sneaked around his throat and cut out his airways.
Too stunned, he barely fought you and you felt all tension leave his muscles in no time.
Wagner's body hit the ground as he slipped through your hands despite your best efforts. You winced at the thud shaking the floor; you quickly giggled loudly, playing it off as a drunken fun-time shenanigans. Just in case the guards were still at the door.
Satisfied and relieved when no one burst in with guns blazing, you walked to the closet, losing those damned stilettos on the way.
As soon as you unlocked the closet, Steve nearly hit you with the door when abruptly leaving the limited space. His eyes scanned you head to toe to find any sign of an injury, the flames in his glare fading only a bit when he found none.
"You almost gave me a heart attack!" he whisper-yelled and despite the circumstances, you couldn't but giggle, this time from honest amusement as he proved your earlier thoughts right.
There we go...
"Worked, didn't it? Now help me since you're here, he's fucking heavy..."
Steve gave you an incredulous look, one promising a storm coming once you had the time for it, but he went to pick Wagner's body up without protest.
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Steve was kind enough to have you use the bathroom first, so by the time he emerged – around half past three a.m. – you were already tucked in bed, waiting for him. His feet shuffled against the floor and he seemed utterly spent, as if he had been fighting an army from space.
You had both left the party unharmed; then again, you could imagine that socializing the way he had had to could be as tiring as an alien invasion itself. Also, he had been the one leave Wagner office-bedroom through the window, while you simply walked out of the room, winking at the guards who had indeed stayed by the door.
Steve slipped under the covers and turned off the bedside lamp, the warm light replaced by inviting darkness. Your eyelids felt heavy after the long night and you couldn't wait to enter the blissful land of sleep.
Having Steve's arms around you, a pleasant habit of his, you knew you'd be out in no time, but you made the effort to shift further into his embrace, sighing in content and murmuring 'goodnight'.
Already halfway out as soon as you closed your eyes, you still registered his arm winding tighter around your waist, his nose pressed to your nape. A deep inhale, then another, warm breath and his lips inching closer with each second.
Pulled out of your slumber, limbs already heavy and yet floaty, half-hearted question left your lips.
"You 'kay?"
"Uh-huh," he hummed, his foot wedging between yours to pull you impossibly closer, his exhale long and wavering.
The tremble in it alarmed you, urging you to check up on his expression, on him. Willing your body to move, your heart skipped a startled beat when he wouldn't let you turn around.
"That didn't sound-"
His fingers wormed its way under your side laid on the mattress, flexing on the flesh of your waist.
"I'm fine...." Bullshit. "It's just... you have no idea how hard it was to stay put while listening to all that, do you?"
Eyelashes fluttering in surprise, you took in his words, the subtle taste of fear in them, concern for how your abrupt plan could have easily go awry.
You allowed yourself a few moments before responding, forcing your memories, the images of you helplessly lying pinned to the ground after you saw a building explode – a building with Steve still in it – out of your mind.
"I... I think I can imagine. I'm sorry. I came up with an idea and thought it was for the best," you whispered.
Honestly, you were still convinced that it had been the best thing to do given the circumstances, but that was momentarily beside the point.
"You literally told him you worked with me. I swear to God- I--"
Hearing the shift in his voice, a different emotion interfering – the pure horror, laced with exasperation – you softened your next words even further, running your fingertips over the back of his hand coaxingly.
Without any real hope, you attempted to turn in his firm embrace; this time, he reluctantly let you, your palms instantly trapping his miserable face.
"Hey. Hey, Steve, it's fine. We handled it. We're good. I just remembered Friday told me that he was a kinky bastard-" Steve nudged you at the word and you fought hard the eye-roll he had coming at that "-and decided to use it."
"You gave me your weapons and went against him empty-handed-- never ever do that again," he demanded, voice equally pleading and firm. You couldn't help but nudge him back, because in your line of work, promising that technically equalled lying. "If there is any other option."
You sighed, understanding all too well how he was feeling, willing to promise the latter to ease his mind. And to erase the worried wrinkles on his forehead. You kissed him there, the tension resolving under your loving gesture.
"Noted. I didn't do that to get off, to have a high." Unlike some people, who seemed to do that sometimes. "I promise."
"I know you didn't," Steve said, having the decency to add an edge of guilt to his voice, your verbal call for hypocrisy not going unnoticed. He kissed your left collarbone, tender and greedy, his lips sliding an inch lower to faintly feel your heartbeat and lingering.
"You know me well," you stated, running your fingers through his still damp locks, musing. "It's... nice. Not as scary as I expected once."
"Thanks...?" he murmured against your skin unsurely and you chuckled, a tired but oh so content sound.
"I love you."
"I love you too," he whispered, heavy-lidded eyes boring into yours, finding your lips with his to deliver a lazy but heartfelt kiss, one you felt reaching your very soul.
Shifting so your head was tucked under his chin, you nestled into the most comfortable position possible and Steve hummed into your hair, once more pulling your body against his, not an inch of space left between you. You melted into his warmth and finally, you felt his muscles fully relax as well.
As you once more walked the fine line of dozing off, a sudden thought caused you to snap your eyes open, your heart skipping a curious beat.
"Steve?" An absent hum was his only response, but encouraged by any reaction at all, you continued, knowing that you wouldn't fall asleep without having the answer. "When you said it was hard... you weren't referring to a... certain situation of yours, right? ... or were you?"
Even with his body turning rigid, an rock-solid prove he was fully awake, he put effort into sounding sleepy.
"Just go to sleep, woman."
"...were you?! Do you want me to... do some thorough inspection of y-" you teased, fascinated, never finishing your thought as Steve's large palm covered your mouth.
You resisted the urge to release the surprised laugh bubbling in your chest. It wasn't that you thought Steve's desire was ridiculous; you were just that amazed that it never came up; a true wonder given your line of work.
Momentarily incapacitated, you didn't speak, but grazed your teeth over his palm so he would release you.
"Hush!"
" 'khay-" You muttered and he removed his palm, sleepy blue watching you in warning. You strained your neck to kiss the previously teased skin of his hand. "We'll explore that another time. I'm beat. Still love you. Goodnight."
With that, you curled back into his body, feeling the wide expand of his chest followed by an exasperated puff.
"Goodnight, you maniac. I love you too."
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Pins and needles in your toes ripped you harshly from the dreamland and you groaned quietly, rescuing your foot from the vice created by Steve's own.
Shared sleep was blissful, releasing endorphins, the feelings of comfort and safety it provided irreplaceable and all that, but having your limb pinned to the mattress by a supersoldier was no joke.
You checked the clock on the nightstand; 8:27 AM. Sparing a glance at the man sleeping beside you, his arm wrapped around your waist, palm sprawled over our abdomen, you smiled despite the early hour.
Any other morning, you would have shaken off the cramp and scooted over to get even closer to Steve; however, determined to do something nice for him and make sure he was alright with what he had clearly considered an irresponsible stunt of yours yesterday, you thanked heavens for the unexpected get-up call and planned on wiggling out of Steve's grasp.
"Where ya' goin'?" he mumbled sleepily, the inches you had managed to put between your bodies erased as his arm pulled you back, his nose nuzzling your hair with a sigh.
"Bathroom," you lied easily, lightly patting his forearm. "We've barely slept for five hours. You still have thirty minutes till your usual start of the post-mission day, you crazy-ass lark. I'll be right back."
"Mm-hmm... I'll be waitin'."
Chuckling silently, you freed yourself fully, this time without his protests.
"I'm sure you will, Steve," you whispered, your smile widening when only ten seconds later, your words were followed by his quiet snort.
Grabbing one of Steve's hoodies thrown over the backrest of a chair and sliding into it, you made your way to the communal kitchen instead. Your mission was to make Steve breakfast, secretly hoping you could talk him into skipping the usual run today and actually spending a day in bed. You thwarted big bad's plans yesterday, for god's sake, you both deserved a break...
As a reminder of the past events, a bruise the size of a boot on your thigh – which you didn't remember getting – stared accusingly at you when you passed a mirror. You inconspicuously pulled the hem of Steve's hoodie an ich lower in attempt to cover it. Vainly.
Rolling your eyes, you wondered just how nice you needed to be today; Steve had seemed more freaked out than anything else; nevertheless, the anger could come today and you rather if it didn't.
Deciding pancakes, eggs and bacon were a safe bet, you hummed and opened the fridge.
It was the exact moment something caught you eye, a change in decorum; right above your head on the top of the fridge.
A big fat zero stared at you from the sign you had got Steve a while ago, a memorandum of your first first-hand experience of his utter recklessness on missions. Ever since then, you and the rest of the team made sure to have the board up-to-date, sometimes proudly and sometimes regretfully rewriting the number of 'days without Steve doing stupid life-threatening shit'.
Now there was a zero. Your jaw went slack, your heartbeat skyrocketing.
It was not the only change on the sign.
Someone, and you had a very good idea who that might be (hint: he was sleeping in your bed), plastered your name over Steve's.
Your smile froze on your lips and at that moment, you could have been knocked out with a feather.
Unbelievable.
Un-fucking-believable.
Shutting the fridge with a loud thud, bottles in its door clinking, you strode back to your shared room, sputtering curses.
The audacity of him!
When had he even- how had he done-- all night--- you had woken up before him-!
Forget pancakes, eggs and bacon; snark was on the menu today.
"STEVEEEEEN!"
You heard his laughter before you even reached the bedroom.
Looking at the bright sight of things, Steve being a little shit was a positive shift from his late-night anxiety. A brief smile crossed over your face before you stormed into the room, finding the blond culprit muffling his chuckles in a pillow.
Your pillow.
Jumping to the bed, you grabbed his own and opted to show him just how stupid you could get.
Because trying to take down a supersoldier in a pillow fight? The zero might have stay on the board for one extra day.
As Steve's carefree laughter echoed within the walls of your bedroom, filling you with pure joy, you decided you could live with that.
-----Notes:
Thank you for reading! :))