Steven Grant Rogers
Word Count: 1393 (oops)
Warnings: language, brief references to blood and injury, Steve being dumb
Request: (Anon) “
I loved your Steve x reader! Can I put in a request for another Steve x reader but she’s (enhanced); she usually works in the lab with Bruce, she’s able to mess with cells and bodily functions and etc. she’s a good healer basically and can keep Bruce calm when Natasha isn’t there. Steve gets shot ‘a little bit’ again. Oh please, you don’t even have to follow everything; I just want to see reader go momma bear on the star spangled banner after he gets injured!”
A/N: Hope you like it, sweetpea!
“STEVEN GRANT ROGERS!”
You and Bruce both looked up from your respective lab tables, grimacing at the sound of Bucky’s voice echoing down the hallway. The worry that cut through the irritation in his voice sent you running off for the medical supplies in the corner. You were enhanced in a way that gave you some level of control over biological tissue and body functions, but there was only so much you could fix.
“Bucky, I’m fine,” Steve argued through gritted teeth as the pair came into view through the glass walls of the lab, and you felt your stomach drop at the sight of the blood that stained the front of his uniform.
You let out a steady stream of quiet curse words as you cleared off the table in front of you and pulled on medical gloves.
“Y/N! This punk went and got himself shot again!” Bucky called out to you as they came through the doors.
“Of course he did. Shirt off and lie on the table,” you ordered briskly, far too mad to meet Steve’s eyes as he offered up a sheepish smile. “Bucky, tell me what happened.”
“It’s not that big of a deal! I just –”
“Hey! I didn’t ask you, star spangled dumbass! Do what you’re told!” you snapped.
“Star spangled dumbass? Haven’t heard that one before…” Bruce commented mildly.
“I like it. It fits. Because no one in their right mind would take a bullet for someone who is entirely encased in a suit of metal,” Bucky grumbled, shooting Steve a glare.
“STEVEN GRANT ROGERS ARE YOU TRYING TO GET YOURSELF KILLED?” you thundered, sterilizing the area around Steve’s wound with a bit more aggression than was strictly necessary.
“It’s an instinct, alright?” Steve said with a wince, grabbing at your wrist as you probed his side carefully to determine whether the bullet was still lodged inside.
“An instinct to get yourself shot for no reason?” You yanked your hand out of his grip and went about your work to pull the bullet out of him.
“It really isn’t that big of a deal!”
“You got shot, Steve!”
“Only a little!”
“There is no such thing as getting shot only a little, you idiot!”
You had successfully removed the bullet, and now you yanked your right glove off to hover your hand over the hole in his side. Your hand began to glow faintly, and you watched with an expression of intense focus as the muscle and skin began to knit back together. When you were done, you wiped away all remaining traces of blood and pulled your other glove off, flinging them both on the table.
Steve’s fingers traced over the shiny pink mark that was all that remained of his injury and glanced up at you.
“I’m not going to apologize for trying to defend a friend… however misguided the attempt was. I would take a bullet for any of you,” he said quietly.
“You better fucking not,” you and Bucky grumbled simultaneously.
“STEVEN GRANT ROGERS!” you shrieked, storming into the kitchen with a bloody t-shirt clenched in your fist.
Steve cringed at the sight, belatedly realizing that the laundry room trashcan was not the best place to dispose of that shirt.
“No, okay, just listen –”
He cut off abruptly with a blush when you yanked the hem of his shirt up, revealing a wide layer of bandages taped just over his hip.
“What the fuck is this? What did you do?” you questioned angrily as you peeled away the bandage to reveal an angry red slash.
“It’s not that big of a – Ah!” He drew in a sharp breath as you clapped your hand over the cut, not bothering with the gentle hovering technique you used last time, and he felt his skin heat up as you began to use your powers.
“If you say it’s not that big of a deal one more time, I swear…”
“But it really –”
“Why didn’t you come to me?” you interrupted, meeting his eyes searchingly.
“I didn’t want to worry you,” Steve answered quietly, his expression softening at the hurt and concern in your eyes.
“I am always worried about you. Always. The fact that I have the ability to help you when you get hurt is what lets me sleep at night. You have to come to me when something like this happens.”
“Okay. I’m sorry,” he whispered.
“Do you promise?”
“Yes, I promise, but only if you promise to stop being so mad when I get hurt trying to do my job.”
“Fine. I guess Bucky will just have to summon enough anger for two.”
“Shouldn’t be a problem,” Steve laughed fondly.
“STEVEN GRANT ROGERS!” You shoved against him again and again, but he never faltered. “Steve, move! I have to help him!”
Bruce was doubled over, drawing quick and shallow breaths. He was fighting against it with all he had, but it was a losing battle.
“Steve!” you cried again, and this time he turned around and grabbed you roughly by the shoulders.
“Y/N, you can’t help him!”
“Yes, I can!” You struggled against his grip, and he ducked down to meet your eyes.
“I can not take that risk. You’re far more likely to get yourself hurt or killed, and I can not let that happen.”
You let out another noise of frustration before doing the only thing you could think to do, something you had been thinking about doing for a long time now. Hooking your hand behind his neck, you yanked him forward, crashing your lips to his in a quick and desperate kiss. It had the desired effect of making his grip loosen in surprise, and you ripped yourself away from him, ducking under his arm and sprinting towards Bruce.
A green tinge was beginning to take over his skin by the time you reached him, but you snatched up both of his hands in yours and pressed your forehead to his.
“Stay with me, Bruce. You’ve got this,” you whispered as you focused on slowing his heart rate and lowering his blood pressure.
It worked, though it took a lot out of you. Exhaustion took over your body, and you had the presence of mind to lower yourself gingerly to the ground as you felt yourself begin to lose consciousness. You heard Bruce’s shaky apologies and Steve’s voice calling your name, and then you heard absolutely nothing.
Should you be doing this right now? Absolutely not. There was very important research very much unfinished on the table next to you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.
Steve’s lips were warm and soft as they danced against yours, and butterflies performed skillful pirouettes in your stomach as his thumb stroked slowly over your cheekbone. His other hand was planted firmly on the small of your back, pressing you closer to him.
You had been yelling at him again, this time over a shallow cut on his hand he had gotten when his knife slipped while chopping vegetables in the kitchen. He had blamed you, claiming he had been distracted by the memory of your hasty kiss the week before. Doing your best to ignore that comment, you had launched into a lecture on how careless and reckless he was and how he was absolutely going to be the death of you. But this time, all you had gotten out was a “Stephen Grant–” before he had successfully cut off the rest of your argument.
He let out a contented hum as he pulled back, dipping back in for one last peck before pulling away completely with a smile.
“What were you saying?”
“You know, I don’t actually remember,” you sighed with fake disbelief.
“You’re getting old,” he joked, shaking his head sadly.
“Shut up, aren’t you like 100?” you teased as he leaned back in for another kiss.
“You know, I don’t actually remember,” he whispered against your lips, stifling your giggles with long and slow kiss.
“STEVEN GRANT ROGERS STOP CANOODLING WITH MY LAB ASSISTANT!” Tony yelled in a scandalized voice as he entered the lab with a very amused Bruce.
“She’s my lab assistant, Tony,” he said dryly.
“STEVEN GRANT ROGERS STOP CANOODLING WITH BRUCE’S LAB ASSISTANT!”
“No thanks,” he called out in answer, and you laughed as he kissed you again.