Imagine If You Assembled The Avengers: Volume 2

Language (Steve Rogers x reader)

"Excuse me?"

"Shhh!"

"Sorry," Steve whispered to the readers at a nearby table, his hands up in surrender, "I have a naturally loud voice."

"Did you need something?" you asked plainly and without looking up at him, continuing to sort through the enormous stack of books that had been returned to the library overnight. He was always here in the morning when you unlocked the doors, every day without fail unless the team was out on a mission; on those days he would send anyone left behind to do his book exchange. He was an incredibly fast reader and took advantage of it to soak up as many current events as he could.

"Yes," he cleared his throat quietly, trying to keep his voice low, "I seem to have forgotten one of my books."

"Okay?"

"I usually return them the next day before I take more."

You took a loud sigh, hoping that he would sense your tone and frustration at the interruption with this non-problem. "You know you have two weeks to bring those back, right? And you can check out as many as you want at a time." You had yet to meet his eyes, though you could feel him watching you. "I think we can trust Captain America to avoid late fees."

"Yes, I do have a reputation to uphold," he smiled, pushing his hands deep into his pockets and rocking back and forth on his heels slightly, seeming almost giddy that he was engaging you in conversation. "But seeing as I come here everyday, and you appear to be in charge, I don't want to risk getting on your bad side. I don't know what my day would be if I didn't see you...see your new reading selection as soon as it hit the shelves," he groaned, now pulling a hand from his pocket to rub his thinly stubbled cheek, completely embarrassed at his ineptitude in talking to you.

"You're not on my bad side, Captain, but for future reference, if you're ever trying to make me hate you, bothering me at work is top three in ways to do it." Finally giving in, you paused and looked up, holding back a laugh at the sight of him; now that you had made the elusive eye contact, he looked like a puppy waiting for you to throw his favorite toy. His sudden burst of energy was almost too much, certainly disruptive to the stillness around him, and his words almost stumbled from his mouth as if they were racing to be first.

"Please, call me Steve. Well, I'm sure glad I'm not on your bad side, because now that I've finally worked up the nerve to talk to you I feel like all I say is stupid things and could stick my foot in my mouth at any second. I come here everyday and think that I can talk to you and that today is the day, but this time today really was the day-"

"Excuse me," an elderly woman who looked to be at least eighty reached up from the table next to Steve, poking his arm gently, "Steve? I'm a huge fan, son. I was so excited when they found you in that ice and when they said you were back. I think we all were," she turned, waving her hand around the table at her equally aged group. "But let me tell you something, if you don't keep your voice down while we're trying to read, you're going to find my shoe in that tight little behind of yours."

Steve's head snapped from her to you and back in complete shock, now wondering what was more startling; the sweet old lady's threat or your lack of response to it. In all of his visits and any interaction that the two of you had, you were always so unaffected that now he was determined to crack your cool exterior. "Come on, you have to laugh at that," he whispered, trying to keep quiet and to keep the woman from retaliating. "This tiny little old lady just threatened to stick her white orthotic shoe into my ass. No, my tight little ass. How the hell is that not funny?"

"Language, Captain!" you whispered harshly, trying to contain the smile that was harder and harder to push away the longer he looked at you with those beautiful, blue, expectant eyes. "What happened to the reputation?"

The woman had heard him, turning in her chair and giving him a quick swat on that same firm behind, her small hand lingering for just a second too long on its target. She smirked when he gasped and spun towards her, not the first clue as to what to say. "I was right, girls," she winked at one of her table mates, returning to her reading as if nothing had happened.