You woke up to the sound of screaming.
At first, you didn’t even realise it was you that was creating the blood curdling shriek until you felt a lump in your throat, catching your voice. You sat up, shaking, covered in cold sweat. Pushing your hair out of your eyes, you wiped away the tears that had tumbled down your eyes before you even realised you were crying.
Footsteps pounded along the hallway and the door to your bedroom was thrown open.
“(Y/N), are you okay? I heard screaming,” Steve Rogers stood at your door, slightly panting. His room in the Avengers Tower was right next to yours. It took you a second to realise he was dressed only in a loose pair of pants. You stared at him, the lump in your throat growing larger. You felt a sharp pain in your head, the kind you get when you try desperately to hold in the tears at the back of your eyes but you know that as soon as you’re away from everyone, you’ll burst out in floods. You opened your mouth but no sound came out.
“Is it…the nightmares again?” he asked cautiously, edging towards the bed. You gulped and nodded. Suddenly the wall between control and total emotional breakdown was shattered and you hunched over, sobbing. Steve ran to the bed, sitting next to you and wrapping his arms tightly around you, pulling you into his chest. You threw your arms around his waist and buried your head into his chest. His skin radiated heat, instantly comforting you. He rubbed your back soothingly.
“Do you want to…um… talk about it?” Steve whispered in your ear. You knew he found crying women uncomfortably awkward but it never stopped him from coming to your aid. In truth, this occurred more often than you would like to admit. Past missions with S.H.I.E.L.D. have taken their toll on you over the few years you’ve worked for them. Bloodshed, death and destruction surrounded you, but knowing that you were fighting the good fight (or so you hoped) was one of the only things keeping you going these days.
Steve leaned back from you and laced his fingers into yours. You shook your head, not meeting his gaze, trying to regain control.
“Take deep breaths okay, look at me,” he said, sounding concerned. “You’ll be okay, I’ve got you.”
You tilted your head up and looked into his eyes. For several minutes, you timed your shallow, rushed breaths to his deep, slow ones, falling into a rhythmic pattern. Slowly but surely, it calmed you down. You were no longer flushed by the terrible images that flashed in your mind every time you shut your eyes, but a slight pink blush had settled on your cheeks when you realised how close you were to Steve, and how little clothing he was wearing. You pushed the thought out of your mind and smiled weakly at the American hero.
“Thanks Steve, really,” you murmured, hugging him tightly. He stood up several moments later and smiled. “Anytime, and I mean that (Y/N).” He grinned and began to turn towards the door. You leaned out from under the covers of the bed and grabbed his wrist.
“Um…would you mind...staying with me?” you said, looking up at him with puppy dog eyes. He gave in quickly and slid into the bed beside you.
“Push over so,” he smirked and you scooted in along the bed. He wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pulled your closer to him. You snuggled up to him, placing your head on his chest. He was so warm; you had to hold him as close as possible. Steve stroked your arm absentmindedly and suddenly stopped, pinching the fluffy material of your pyjamas.
“Um (Y/N), what are you wearing,” he asked, looking down at you. You laughed and kicked your feet out from under the covers.
“It’s my onesie! You know, those things most babies wore, like an all-in-one pyjama thing?” you couldn’t help giggle at the confused look on his face. “They’ve been really popular these last few years! Don’t worry Capsicle, we’ll get you one.” You looked down at the snowflake-print footie pyjamas fondly.
Steve couldn’t help but grin, kissing you on the forehead. You sat up straight and looked into his blue eyes. You could see a trace of sleep-deprivation in them, his blond messy hair nearly flopping in front of them. That was your favourite look for him. You leaned in slowly, and kissed him softly on the lips. He was shocked at first but kissed you back a second later. You couldn’t help but smile when you pulled away and then pecked him on the cheek, sliding back down to your original position, with your head on his chest.
“Thank you for everything,” you whispered. You could hear his heart racing, which would eventually lull you to sleep.
“Love you.”
“Love you too.”