Breakfast in Bed…Almost
Here’s a little piece I’ve been working on inspired by this post. I use no physical descriptors with my character so you should (hopefully) have no trouble picturing yourself in this scenario with our sweet baby Steve. Feel free to reblog, comment or drop a message in my inbox/asks but even if you don’t I appreciate you!! Happy reading!!!
Steve Rogers x Reader
Warnings: very, very slight illusion to past sexy times. Tooth rotting fluff.
Word Count: 938
You tiptoe entering the kitchen quietly yawning while stretching your arms above your head. You are surprised by the time on the clock, knowing it’s unusual for Steve to sleep this late. Whether it’s the serum or a result of all the trauma he’s experienced, or a combination of both - Steve doesn’t sleep much and usually rises with the sun. Wanting to take advantage and give your boyfriend something nice to wake up to, you decide to cook him some breakfast. Double checking the door to the bedroom is closed. You inspect the kitchen and see what you can whip up for the two of you.
Moving around your kitchen you collect everything you’ll need. Bread, eggs, milk, vanilla and a sprinkle of cinnamon. You get started on mixing the ingredients for your french toast. Cooking up the breakfast wearing one of your Steve’s shirts and some pajama shorts you think back to the night before. You’re a little achy, but in all the best ways as you reflect on your long night with your super soldier boyfriend. A nice dinner out; last night was Steve’s pick - a cute little farm to table place, it might be one of your new go to spots the food was absolutely delicious. After the two of you came back stumbling through the door. Desperately needing one another it took you awhile to actually make it into the bedroom. You chuckle to yourself as you run your fingers gently across your lips where the ghost of his touch still lingers. Shaking your head and coming back to the present moment focusing on the task at hand.