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Steve was kind. He was the one who welcomed you first, made you feel at home at the compound. The two of you had an easygoing relationship. He always looked out for you, and made sure that Sam and Tony went easy on you.
“Hope those other guys aren’t giving you trouble,” he laughed, watching you pick up the tennis ball they had been tossing around and throwing it straight at Tony’s face. He caught it, of course, but almost toppled over in the process.
“I think I can handle myself,” you smirked, seeing his blue eyes twinkle in response.
You often messed with the other members of the team, pranking them back when they ate the last of your baked goods, or stole your towel during a day at the pool, forcing you to walk back to your room shivering in your skimpy swimsuit.
But never with Steve. For some reason, he was off-limits to you. And while you laughed and messed with other teammates, it just never felt right with him.
It wasn’t that the two of you weren’t friends. You had grown pretty close. He just wasn’t that type of friend that you were rowdy around, or were mean to, even if it was jokingly. He was the reliable friend, the serious one. The kind of friend you stayed up late at night with on the roof, talking to and falling asleep against…only to wake up the next morning tucked into your own bed possibly still wearing his jacket. He was one of the few people you dropped your walls around. You didn’t have always put on an overly confident facade, or mask your feelings behind a crude joke.
So the first time it happened, you didn’t know what to make of it. You were sitting on the kitchen stool, telling Natasha about your most recent night out, and how you had picked up a random guy and spent the night at his place. It was nice, you had said, a nice stress relief, to be able to go out with a stranger who didn’t recognize you and take out your frustrations through rough night of…
The sound of glass shattering broke you out of your conversation. Both your heads snapped up, to see Steve at the other end of the kitchen counter, jaw tense and frozen as he made eye contact with you. His gaze followed yours to the remains of the shattered glass he held in his hand, the other shards of it littered on the floor.
“Guess I don’t know my own strength,” Steve shrugged, dropping the rest of the shards onto the floor.
You got off your stool to help, but he quickly cut you off.
“I got this, I’m fine. I’m going to find a broom…don’t hurt yourself while I’m gone,” he muttered, moving out of the room a little too fast.
“What was that about?” You asked, turning to Nat.
She smirked. “I wouldn’t worry about it.”
The second time it happened, you were stumbling back into the Tower at 5am. Your head was throbbing, and you could still feel the flush of alcohol coursing through you. You hiccuped, startled by the sudden presence of two super soldiers sitting on the kitchen stool.
“Morning, Y/N,” Steve called. You squinted, making out that Steve sat next to him. They both were eating oatmeal. Typical, you chuckled.
“Can’t believe it’s morning already….” you groaned. “God…I have training in a few hours.”
“Long night? Y/N, you’ve got a little something… on your…” Bucky gestured to his neck, smirking.
“What? There’s nothing on my…” you slapped your hand to your neck, and felt your cheeks burn as you checked your reflection in your phone and saw the purple bruises on your neck and along your collarbone.
“Oh these?” You relaxed, lips turning upward slyly as you regained confidence. “Guess you could call them battlescars.”
You woke up a few hours later, bone tired and unprepared for training.
“Can we…please…take it easy today,” you asked, trying to keep up with Bucky and Steve as you all took laps.
“Do you think Hydra is taking it easy?” Steve snapped from behind you, as he sped up.
“On your left,” he called out, but you were too slow to react and he collided into you.
God, it hurt like hell. Though he may have looked normal, his body was rock hard and you certainly felt it as you were thrown a few feet and landed on your face.
Bucky helped you up, as Steve dusted himself off.
“Owww,” you whined.
“You’re lucky this is just training,” Steve scowled. “Maybe if you were actually responsible, you wouldn’t stay out so late when you have work the next morning. The two of you can finish without me.”
He headed for the door.
“What…is. his. problem?” You scoffed, turning to Bucky.
The other supersoldier gave a knowing smile.
“I wouldn’t worry about it,” he shrugged.
The rest of the week was the same. Steve held you at arm’s length, yet was super nitpicky about everything you did. Your kicks weren’t high enough during training, you were too loud when he was trying to sleep… you ate the last of the cereal… It was like you two were constantly fighting, except you had no idea what it was about. At first you chalked it up to him being moody, but that couldn’t have been it. He seemed so…personally… mad at you.
Finally, after pacing your room one night, you decided enough was enough. You knew Steve would probably be asleep by now, since he, as he had emphasized all week, was “responsible,” and actually “gave a fuck.”
Your blood boiled when you thought about some of the comments he had made. You had held back in your remarks with him, apologizing at first since he had never treated you this way before. You always used to trust his judgment, especially since he seemed to have your best interests at heart…but lately…
You just had to find out what happened. You banged at his door, until a very sleepy looking Steve opened it.
“Y/N?” He rubbed his eyes, looking a little surprised to see you.
You didn’t ask as you pushed your way into his room and sat down on his bed.
“We need to talk,” you said.
“What’s so important that it couldn’t wait until morning?” He yawned.
“What is going on?”
“What do you mean?” He asked, nervous now.
“Why are you acting so…different? Is everything okay…?”
He was silent, lips pressed into a thin line as he stood with his arms crossed.
“No… that’s not… it - you- …it’s nothing you have to be worried about,” he closed his eyes, frustrated at his inability to form a coherent sentence.
“Then what is it Steve? Nat and Bucky said you were dealing with personal issues, but sure feels like I did something since you only seem to be taking it out on me.” You stared him down, as he gaped at you silently.
“Did I… do something?” Your expression softened, and he could see the hurt in your face. Your eyes started to water, and you feeling an uncomfortable tension as you waited for him to respond.
“Goddamit, Y/N” he broke at last, pulling you to him and crushing his lips against yours.
“Oh.” You mouthed, when you finally pulled away. You smiled shyly.
“Oh indeed,” he laughed, pulling you in for another kiss.
And this was the guy everyone had told you not to worry about.