Third Eye; Steve Rogers x Reader [reader insert]

4 (4/4)

That night, he falls asleep telling you about his life. You, the ever-vigilant listener, hang on every word of his. And, tucked into Steve's arms, you receive the long-overdue taste of touch that you've been so mercilessly starved of.

Steve thought it was a little strange to intimately hold you like this.

"Steve warm... Feel so cold, s-so cold..."

But, how could he deny someone so pure, and clearly in need of affection and contact? Especially, when you looked at him like that.

It's the next day, and for someone who doesn't need much sleep—Steve found it challenging to wake up. Not wanting to leave the comfort of your little cave. So, for hours, he laid there on the ground with you on top of him like a heavy weighted blanket. It gave him time to think and to process the whirlwind of the previous day. Most notably, he anxiously waited until the rest of the team found him. He knew they were coming, but when was the question.

While his brain was running a mile a minute, you were snoring and drooling as you slept the day away.

Now, the two of you were venturing into the forest for some more food. You had finished the berries last night and now there were a few purple and red stains on Steve's white tank top.

The sun has already begun to set. Hiding behind the layers of trees and pine, dark shadows bleeding over the solid dirt and grass.

Steve watches the little creature hop about, ducking into a small bush before popping out again. Its nose wiggles and he tightens his grip on the pocket knife. He's crouched low to the ground, senses honed on the rabbit, everything else fading into a single mass.

That's why he falls flat on his ass when you jump in front of him, the sudden movement causing the rabbit to run away.

You hiss at the man, snatching the blade from his hand and using it to cut the branch of a berry bush. Adding it to his cowl around your wrist, the helmet acting as a basket.

"No killing. Ever." You're frowning at him with such distaste that Steve is shocked.

You growl softly, pushing him aside, but the blond doesn't move. Looking up at him with a scowl, you huff, "move."

Still surprised over your abrupt change in behaviour, Steve stumbles backwards.

You spot the small dead wilted flower that was squashed under Steve's weight. Peeking up at him from your knees, you pat the ground. "Watch? Can show—try to show."

After you pick up the flower, the speckles flow from your hands like gentle wisps, soft shimmering and golden.

The once limp flower straightens before his eyes, the stem turning a healthy green and the vibrancy spreading to the petals. The veins under your skin glow, the energy blooming and entwining with the open air. It performs an artistic dance before his face, enchanting and vaguely reminding him of Wanda's abilities. 

Steve reaches out, touching one of the sparkles, flinching when it turns brighter and brighter, until burning out. His eyes drop to your hand, cradling the lively plant as you breathe heavily.

"C-Can do only—little things."

He remembers the blooming flowers in the cave. Away from sunlight, water and rich soil. They wouldn't survive there in those circumstances, and he knows you had something to do with it. He isn't sure what it is but Steve's resolve is unbreakable.