literature

Happy 4th of July...not (Steve Rogers x reader OS)

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    Steve woke with a bright grin on his face. Today was the 4th of July. It could only be a good day, he knew it.

    So he practically jumped out of his bed, giddy and eager to get started with the festivities of today. Not that he had planned much for his birthday, but it was also a national holiday, the national holiday and that had to be celebrated.

    But first, his morning run. He felt as if he could have run more than twice his usual route, but he decided against it and instead returned to the Avengers Tower for a quick shower, then he had to get started as there was much to be prepared. Mostly food, but honestly, between him and Thor, much food would be needed.

    And… he also had something else planned. He bit his lip when he left his room again, before everyone else was up. He finally had to tell the girl of his dreams that he loved her. Because he did love you with all his heart.

    But he had no idea how to tell you that and so far, had only come up with one idea: He would ask you for a date as his birthday present from you.

    He found the idea in turns brilliant and idiotic, so he just hoped he would catch you in a moment in which he would have enough faith in the idea to actually voice it. Yeah, fat chance, he thought sarcastically as he rounded a corner to head for the kitchen. Only to stop dead in his tracks as he saw you there, standing next to the counter and quickly sipping your coffee while applying eye make-up. You were still half asleep, but to him, you were as beautiful as ever.

    “Morn’, Steve.”, you muttered, but even before he could ask you what had made you get up this early, you looked at your watch and cursed softly under your breath, “Damn. Sorry, gotta go. Fury has me on assignments all day.”

    You were already halfway out of the kitchen before Steve found his voice and he stammered helplessly: “B-but… it’s the Fourth of July…!”

    And his birthday, he wanted to add, but you cut him off with an apologetic glance at him: “You don’t have to tell me. Enjoy the fireworks, the festivities. Have fun.”

    “Okay…”, he said meekly, then added a bit louder, trying to reach you on your way out, “Dinner and cake will be ready when you get back.”

    “Thanks!”, you called out to him while slipping on your shoes, then you glanced at him again, “But you better don’t wait up for me. There’s no telling when Fury will let me outta his clutches. Bye!”

    Just like that, you were gone.

    Steve’ shoulders slumped down. He had hoped for an entire day with you, an entire day to muster his courage. More than just a little unhappy with the situation in general and himself in particular, he snorted. He was “The Man with a Plan”, allegedly, and he had no idea how to say three simple words to you.

    With a deep sigh, he thought that he would at least make good on his promise, so he started making breakfast. Which he had hoped to enjoy with you. But no such luck.

    Sometimes, he really understood Agents complaining about Fury. Especially this day.

    You had already made coffee, so Steve poured himself a cup and then got to work on the batter for pancakes and bacon and scrambled eggs. Sure enough, it did not take at least a part of the team long to be lured out of their beds from the smell of breakfast, except for Tony, but Steve guessed that he would still be hung-over from the day before, so he did not give it much thought.

    “Where is (Name)?”, Bruce asked and Steve heaved a sigh before explaining, “Director Fury called her in.”

    “Today?!”, Clint asked indignantly, finally shaken awake by that statement, “But it’s…!”

    “The Fourth of July.”, Steve said, but as no one made any effort to congratulate him, he muttered, “Yeah, believe me, I know.”

    Still they said nothing. Steve shrugged and continued on with the preparations for tonight, there were pies to bake, bread to make for the homemade burgers.

    He was so engrossed in his task that at one point he wondered why the rest of the room had suddenly gone awfully quiet. He had a notion and when he turned around only to find it confirmed, he groaned in disbelief and annoyance. They really had left all the dishes for him to clean up!

    Grumbling to himself, he wished you were here with him. Not only because you would have hunted all those guys down and made them scrub the dishes sparkling clean with him watching, but also because he just wished you were near. But then again, no such luck.

    Collecting the dirty plates he was of half a mind to call Director Fury and give him a piece of his mind, but then decided against it. That would only bring you in trouble with the Director and he did not want that.

    So he wreaked his anger on the plates while he scrubbed them clean and then on the cookie dough. With a scoff he mused that he must have set a personal record with the short time it had taken him to knead it.

    A few minutes later, the cookies were done and set aside, so he could go on with the bread for the burger buns.

    “What are you doing?”, an amused and slightly confused voice reached him from behind him and Steve turned around, wiping his brow, then he saw Natasha lean against the counter.

    “Baking.”, Steve shrugged and she replied, “I can see that, genius. What I really meant is: Why are you doing all this?.”

    “It’s the Fourth of July.”, he said with a smile, hoping silently that at least Natasha would remember.

    “Yeah, right.”, she said… and nothing else.

    Grumbling to himself, Steve wondered if really everyone in this damn tower could have forgotten his birthday. Even you.

    Admittedly, you had still been half asleep when Director Fury had called you away, but still. Not a single “Happy birthday!” had he heard today. Not one.

    And when he glanced at Natasha again, hoping she would remember if she had had a little time to think, he realised that she was gone. And she had taken the cookies with her!

    “Natasha!”, he called annoyed, but then groaned and with a sigh, accepted his fate: He started the cookies all over again. At the same time he also started with the dough for the apple pie, smiling to himself as he remembered how you had enjoyed that treat a few weeks back. He had known that if he should ever dare talk about his feelings for you, he best bring a slice of apple pie to assuage you should you reject him. Well, he certainly would not blame you if you did.

    With an unhappy sigh, he finished the second batch of cookies, set them aside and started a third, just to be sure.

    “Oh, what is this treat?”, Thor announced his presence with a booming voice…and a threatening enthusiasm for the cookies Steve had just finished.

    “Chocolate chip cookies.”, Steve said, kneading the dough for the burger bun one last time before he could shape the little buns to stick them in the oven, “But don’t…”

    Too late. Thor had already made off with the plate of cookies. Great.

    “Don’t eat them all…”, Steve muttered when Thor stuck his head into the kitchen again and yelled, “Those are delicious!”

    “Figures…”, Steve said, but with a sigh decided to hide the third batch of cookies somewhere. Somewhere safe.

    He climbed the counter and hid the plate on top of the cupboard, reasonably sure that they would be safe there. Until the vent right above them opened and a hand snatched the cookies away. Clint.

    “Oh, come on!”, he called out, but with a sigh rubbed his forehead as he put the apple pie in the oven. They really were out to get him today. And Tony was not even up, he dreaded what Tony would come up with.

    “Oi, Cap.”

    Speak of the devil, Steve mused, but politely said: “Good morning. Or… noon, rather.”

    “That’s still too early.”, Tony grumbled and grabbed a cup of coffee, silently watching Steve work. He decided that Tony had to be really hung-over if he had not yet tried to stupidly joke around. Once again, Steve sighed as he had jinxed it: “Where’s your gal?”

    He decided to play it cool, as you had recommended, but unfortunately he found himself to be not very good at it as he replied: “I don’t have a gal, so who are you referring to?”

    “Oh, you know. That pretty girl, Fury’s assistant. Doesn’t ring a bell? Hmm, you know, she has a really nice ass and those breas…”

    “Shut it.”, Steve interrupted him, his heart at a rate that could not be healthy even for him. Yes, of course he had noticed the way you looked, but… he would never have put it in such a blunt and disgusting way. He cared far too much for you to do that to you.

    Tony, however, did apparently not: “Why, because you already know who I mean? Then where is she?”

    Not willing to accept Tony’s lewd description of you, he nevertheless answered the question: “The director called her for assignments for the rest of the day. So Fury’s assistant is at her job, with Fury.”

    “Huh.”, Tony mumbled, sipping his coffee, “But it’s the Fourth of July.”

    “Yeah, it is.”, Steve mumbled disgruntled, not even bothering to glance at Tony. He would surely not have remembered Steve’s birthday, no sir.

    “You ever think…? Nah.”, Tony muttered, but then waved it off. Steve knew exactly what that was, a decoy, but he had already walked right into the trap and so he asked: “What do you mean?”

    “Well, she’s with Fury. Today. All day long. Do you have any idea what they could be doing? All. Day. Long.”

    Steve blushed, both from the innuendo and the anger that gripped him.

    “Of course you don’t.”, Tony then added dismissively, “You’re still a virgin, so how could you know?”

    “Out.”, Steve ordered, but Tony snorted, “No can do, Cap. This is my kitchen. My tower. I stay wherever the hell I want.”

    “Fine. At least do it quietly, okay?”, Steve admitted defeat and instead finished the apple pie, putting it on the counter as he then put the buns in. He could have sworn that the pie had only been on the counter unguarded for mere seconds… and yet Tony had already gotten a fork and was digging into it – half asleep.

    “Ah, that’s hot…”, Tony complained and Steve yelled at him, “Of course it is! You saw me take it out of the oven! And why are you eating it, that was for later!”

    “But it smells good.”, Tony mumbled almost unintelligibly as he had burnt his tongue.

    Steve decided to postpone re-doing the apple pie – and the cookies – to later and to start with the hamburgers for the moment.

    To his luck, Tony left him then so Steve could finally work in peace again. And he had learned. He asked Jarvis to lock all the doors to the kitchen and to alert him if someone tried to enter, then he blocked the vent so Clint would not be able to sneak in via that route.

    Then, pleased with his precautions, Steve got back to work. It was quiet, but he enjoyed the silence while working and he actually got a whole lot done. The hamburgers, two more batches of cookies and another apple pie. Amazing what a man could achieve if left in peace for once.

    With a groan, Steve looked at the clock and realised that there were still a few hours left before he would have to get ready for dinner. The day had just flown by so far, but with a rueful smile he wished once again that you had been there with him.

    Thinking of you, he set aside a burger for you with all your favourite ingredients and a generous slice of the apple pie together with some cookies. He labelled the whole meal with your name and stored it at the back of the fridge, safely, then sent you a message to your phone where you would find it. He was not fazed when you did not respond, you were probably too deep in work with Fury. At least, he hoped that was what you were doing with Fury, working, because Tony’s words had given him a new fear he had not even considered yet.

    He shook his head and decided to clean up after his cooking, when suddenly, the door to the kitchen burst open.

    Startled, he adopted a fighting stance, but all he saw was a blur of gold, green and black, whisking by the counter. As quickly as it had come, it had vanished again, only leaving behind the faint echo of hysterical laughter. And nothing on the counter.

    All the work from the whole day was gone.

    “Oh, come on now…”, Steve mumbled with a hurt whine, feeling close to tears now. He really wished you were here with him.

    Instead, he buried himself in work, starting all the preparations all over again. He took the time to check if at least your dinner was still there and thankfully, it was.

    So he started over once again, he even emptied a cupboard to safely hoard the finished pies, cookies and buns in, just to be safe. This time, there were no interruptions, only one, Tony was banging at the door, screaming that it was his kitchen Steve was occupying, but thankfully, Jarvis did not open the locked doors, instead suggested to refer to the use of another coffeemaker and Steve would have bought the A.I. lunch if it had been human.

    Instead, he only spoke his gratitude and, as he had still some time left, he also made pop tarts, from scratch. If it was not worth being done properly, he thought it should not be done in the first place and he hoped Thor would appreciate it.

    When he foolishly asked JARVIS to unlock the doors mere minutes before he had been finished with the whole dinner and dessert, the kitchen was raided. He had no other word for it.

    The rest of the team simply took the kitchen by storm, eating the hamburgers like vultures would gobble down a carcass. They did not even leave one for him.

    But they left him with the plates… splendid.

    With a disgruntled growl, Steve was of half a mind to simply leave the whole scene as it was, looking like someone had been murdered on the dinner table, but with a sigh he admitted that he could not stand it like that and he began to clean up after his teammates, once again.

    His was hungry, he was tired and pretty angry by now. And miserable. Everyone had eaten his food, but no one had said a word about his birthday. And you were not here with him.

    The dessert table had been equally raided, just a few crumbs were left of his pies and cookies, the pop tarts had vanished as if they had never even existed in the first place.

    With a heavy sigh, Steve decided that his dinner would be toast and anything he could find in the fridge… which was peanut butter and jelly.

    Once again, he wished you were there, you would have found something to laugh about in this mess, but you were not here.

    So far, it had been a horrible birthday for him. Saddened he sat down in the living room, alone, and looked out the spacious window just as the sun set. The fireworks would soon begin and he was just eating dinner, without you, celebrating his birthday with one single cookie he had stolen from your hidden plate – which he felt guilty about – and in the dark, silent and utterly deserted room, he mumbled to himself, just as the first firework went off: “Happy Fourth of July. And happy birthday.”

    As Steve had finished his meek dinner, he lay down on the couch, exhausted and unhappy. He wished once again that you were there with him, but as it was no use, he simply decided to wait up for you even though you had asked him not to, but he wanted to, just so that maybe you would eat your late dinner with him, talk to him… give him a chance. Maybe.

    However, the long and laborious day caught up with him and even though he tried hard to stay awake, Steve fell asleep on the couch.

     

    You cursed softly under your breath as you exited the car that had brought you back to the Avengers Tower. It was close to midnight, your eyes felt as if they were on fire, you were tired, grumpy… but happy to finally be back.

    You adjusted the strap of your bag on your shoulder and felt the additional weight. For the whole day it had been nagging on you that you had not taken the chance to hand Steve his present. Damn, you had not even wished him a happy birthday because you had simply been too tired when you had met him in the morning.

    You just hoped that he would not be too mad and still awake and, judging from the merriment going on in the streets, probably everyone was still awake in the city.

    With a tired, yet relieved smile you entered the tower and headed for the kitchen, deciding to eat your promised dinner first, because all you had gotten during the day was a meek sandwich that could not hold a candle to Steve’s promised apple pie. Nothing could.

    “Ha! Gotcha.”, you mumbled to yourself as you retrieved your dinner from the back of the fridge, right where Steve had texted you that he had put it. After a quick run in the microwave, you bit into the burger and sighed happily. It was so delicious.

    It bothered you that no one was about, but you decided that you would probably find them all in Tony’s party room, so you wanted to finish your dinner quickly, but you had to savour the taste of the pie and cookies. And you read the little note Steve had stuck to your dinner over and over again. It was simply too cute, simply Steve.

    You put your dishes in the dishwasher, sure that otherwise Steve would be the one to do that, then you made your way to the party room. But when you passed the living room, you saw movement in it, just from the corner of your eye, but it startled you.

    So, naturally, as Natasha had given you a few lessons, you went to investigate.

    “Oh, Steve…”, you mumbled when you saw him on the couch. He was out cold, snoring softly, his chest heaving with his breaths. His cheek was smudged with chocolate from the cookies, there was flour in his hair, making it almost white, a ketchup stain on his white shirt.

    Had he been up all day cooking? Poor baby.

    With a continuous smile, you went to get a blanket for him and he did not even stir when you removed his shoes before you tucked him in. He really was out cold.

    You brushed a strand of his hair from his forehead, the flour dusting your fingers and his nose, making him crinkle it in his sleep. You giggled, but fell silent when he mumbled something. You did not quite catch it, but with a little imagination, it had sounded a bit like your name, spoken sleepily.

    You bit your lip as a thought popped into your mind, but could you…?

    Discarding any doubt you pressed a soft kiss to Steve’s cheek before you whispered into his ear: “Happy birthday.”

    Again he said something or tried to, but this time he even reached for you and when he had gotten a hold of you, you knew that you would not get away soon. And neither did you want to.

    So you simply wriggled a bit to find a comfortable position to sleep in next to him, then with a sigh you leaned back against Steve who was wonderfully warm.

    “Jarvis, be so kind and lock the doors.”, you asked and the A.I. quietly complied, so you settled to sleep peacefully even if the gang should decide to go to the living room later on.

    You perked your ears up when you heard Steve say something, but it was no longer important when he rolled to his side and put his arms tightly around you, cuddling you to his chest, hiding his face in your hair.

    With a smile on your face, you drifted off to sleep with one giddy thought: Best Fourth of July ever.

The lovely magicdrusilla and I had a discussion about the tag "Mother Hen Steve Rogers" I found over at AO3.
This is the result of this tag and my craziness.

Hope you have fun! :D
© 2015 - 2024 Thyme-Sprite
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keybladewielder93's avatar
awww poor Stevie I wanna hug him hug 


"a blur of gold, green and black"

...wait...LOKI?!? :o (Eek)