Imagine if... A set of Marvel Imagines

Steve ~ Your fault

"Steeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeve." you wine as you lay on your back in your shared bed, tilting your head so you can see his face behind the book he was reading. "Steve." you paw at the paper in his hands and he lets out an annoyed sigh. "I'm hungry."

"You're always hungry." He replys and your stomach growls angrily

"I want McDonalds." He sighs heavily and runs his hand down his face.

"Babe, it's 1am and the closest McDonalds is 20 minutes away."

"It's your fault I'm like this." You move yourself so your head is on his chest and look up at him.

Laughing slightly he looks back down at you, putting his book on the bedside table. "How is it my fault?" He says deviously

"If you weren't so gorgeous and manly and...and...gorgeous we never would've dated and got married and this!" You smile-frown at your swollen stomach.

"It takes two" He voices, moving to stand and pulling on some clothes.

"Aw I love you baby!" You say as he grabs the car keys.

"You better" he mumbles as he steps into the dark.

Arriving back an hour later he slumps back into the house complaining about "who knew there would be a queue at 1am". Flopping onto the bed he starts to freak out as he realises you aren't there. Hurriedly searching through rooms he shouts your name, only stopping when he sees you sprayed across the sofa, laughing your head off watching some blond man on the T.V very aggressively sing nursery rhymes. Looking around he sees a half full bowl full of Cheerios, a kitkat with a bite at the top and you dipping pickles in Nutella.

"What are you doing?" He asks, looking slightly scared.

"Watching Russel Howard!" You say as if it's obvious, turning around and laughing again.

"Well by the looks of things you won't be needing this." He says, dropping the McDonalds on the kitchen counter, causing you to jump up and grab the bag and pull a large fries out.

"Aw babe, you know me so well. Come watch Russel, he's really funny."

"This is your fault" you point at Steve as you throw up in the toilet and he tries to comfort you.

"How this time?"

"If you hadn't told Fury to recruit me, I wouldn't be in this state."

"It's all your fault." You say after you fall on your weak legs, cradled in Steve's loving arms, giving him a smile. "If you hadn't insisted on being my training partner I would still be able to walk."

"Not the first time I've heard those words." He smirks. You slap him.

"Your...fault" You screech as a contraction hits you, your hand clamped onto his.

He looked concerned but knew this was just normal. "Sure."

He paced in the waiting room, the doctors had to do a C-section; the baby was too big. His hands wrung together as the worst possible scenarios rolled around in his head. Tony had called him several times asking if he wanted him to come; it had been hours.

"Mr.Rodgers?" A doctor called, his face grave and one of his hands in a fist. "I'm sorry, there was no more we could've done, they were both too far gone."

He opened his hand and put something into Steve's hand. He looked down and saw two dainty rings. Feeling a pressure behind his eyes he sobbed.

"This is all my fault."