Avengers Imagines and Preferences

It's the Thought That Counts // Steve Rogers

"AAAAAAAAAH!"

This is the rude awakening you received, a girlish scream, but from who? Natasha? Not likely. Wanda? She's not even in town right now. What is going on?! You decide to go investigate. You walk slowly into the kitchen, only to be greeted with a horrifying scene. There are at least a dozen eggs on the ground, charred bits of who knows what across the counter and stove top, and- WHAT is on the ceiling?! In the middle of it all stands the best part: a sticky, flour covered Steve, standing tall with wet, matted hair. All his muscles are tense, and his eyes are filled with worry as he waits for you to explode with rage. Instead, you nearly fall on the floor laughing. His face is as red as the smashed strawberries on the front of the fridge. After a full minute, you finally calm down enough to speak.

"S-steve, what did you do?!" you laughed. He gets even more flustered.

"I wanted to make you breakfast and surprise you in bed but then I realized I have no idea how to use this stuff and-"

"Woah there, soldier," you giggled, interrupting his rushed speech. "It's alright! I appreciate you trying. Go take a shower in my room, the towels are under the sink. I'll clean this up and make some food that might actually be safe to consume."

"Alright," he sighs, going in for a hug.

"Oh no you don't. You are all kinds of messy right now," you joked.

"Fine," he grinned, walking into your room.

After an agonizing half hour of fixing what he destroyed, you hear the door to your bedroom open, and Steve steps out wearing only a pair of jeans. The water falling from his hair drips down his chest, glistening in the light from the windows. He appears in front of you and tilts your head up to look into your eyes.

"Now can I hug you?" he asks sweetly.

"I'll consider it," you tease. He rolls his eyes and pulls you into a bear hug, causing you to squirm because now your shirt is soaked.

"Steve!" you protest.

"What?" he asks cheekily, grabbing a piece of watermelon from behind you and popping it in his mouth.

"Ugh," you groan, walking toward your bedroom in search of a new shirt.

"Love you Y/N!" he yells after you.

"Whatever Capsicle!"