Avengers Imagines

Steve - Morning

Steve rubs his eyes as he slowly wakes up. He feels a weight on his chest, and sees that your head's on his chest. He turns his head to look at the clock, and realize that he's almost late for his meeting with the others.

You're still fast asleep, but soon enough, you feel the man under you shift. "Five more minutes," you groan, nuzzling into his chest. "Don't go yet."

He smiles, placing a gentle kiss on your hair. "Wake up, sleepyhead. It's almost ten."

"It's the weekend. Let me sleep," you say, sighing. "Besides, I deserve sleep after what we did last night."

He blushes deeply, looking at your figure.

You're laying on him, on your stomach, and he could see the slight bruises on your neck that he left just last night. In his eyes, you look absolutely beautiful.

Your hair is everywhere, but for some reason, he likes it that way.

"Why are you staring at me?" you ask him all of a sudden, since you can practically feel his gaze on you. "Go back to sleep."

"Nope," he replies simply, pulling you closer to him. "I like the view."

"Yeah, the city is nice," you mumble groggily.

"I meant your body, but that works, too."

"Sh, I'm tying to go back to bed."

He chuckles, running his hand through your hair. He adjusts his position so that your head is laying on the crook of his neck, and his hands are on both sides of your waist.

The sun was shining through the windows, and you curse yourself for not buying blinds. You pull the covers up so that it covers your face, before placing a soft kiss on Steve's neck.

"Goodnight. I'm going back to sleep."

"I have to get up, baby," he tells you. "I have a meeting in about," he pauses, looking at the time. "Correction, the meeting started ten minutes ago."

"Then there's no point in going," you mutter, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. "Stay here with me."

He sighs. "Fine," he decides. "But only because you're so fucking adorable."

"Language, grandpa."

"You're never gonna let me live that down, huh?" he asks with a laugh.

Moments like these makes every single day in my life worth living, he thinks to himself.

He sighs as he chooses his next words carefully. He wants you to know how much you really mean to him, but at the same time, he doesn't want to scare you off.

"Something wrong?"

"Huh?" he asks.

"Your heart's beating a lot faster," you point out, as you can feel his heart racing. You worry that his PTSD is acting up. Since it's so early in the morning and you're way too tired to be able to form a coherent sentence to calm him down if it actually happens, you feel yourself panicking a little bit.

"I'm fine," he tells you, and you release a breath you didn't know you were holding.

"What is it?"

"I just... I don't know how you've put up with me this whole time," he confesses, looking down. "I'm such a burden."

"Oh, baby," you say. "You're never a burden."

"But you know I am."

"No, Steve. Listen, I want to help. It's not like I'm forced to be with you," you reply. "Your flashbacks make me appreciate your happiness more."

"You make me happy," he states. "Hell, I'm the happiest I've been ever since I met you."

"You make me happy, too," you say to him, craning your neck up to connect your lips to his in a gentle kiss.

"I honestly don't know if I'd still be here if it wasn't for you." He hugs you a bit tighter, his nose breathing in the scent of your hair.

"You'll be fine without me. I'm just here to help you out when you need me and love the shit out of you," you mumble against his chest, running your fingers through his soft hair.

He kisses your forehead, before lifting you up as he's below you. "Breakfast?"

"Lemme stay here while you cook, though."

"In the bedroom?"

"No, like, here. In your arms."

"Fine, but no neck kisses 'cause I might end up burning the food," he says with a chuckle.

"No promises."