rodrikstark's headcanons (part 1)

s. rogers + giving him a cool rock

you bite back a giggle when sam makes another 3-pointer, which causes your boyfriend to huff in disappointment. "face it steve, there are just some things you're not good at."

steve chuckles. he hasn't even broken a sweat, of course, but he doesn't exactly have the nuanced hand-eye coordination for the basketball to delicately swish through the net.

he's more of a throw it as hard as possible kind of guy, which has resulted in a lot of shots launching off the backboard with an almost scary-loud thud.

you sit in the cool shade of a nearby tree, reading a book and taking quick peeks at your boyfriend in his sleeveless shirt, his pale skin glowing in the afternoon sun.

steve—of course—heard your stifled laughter, even from far away. "let's take a quick break," he says, while starting to walk backward towards you.

"giving up already?" sam challenges with a grin.

"you're sweating, wilson. you should hydrate."

you shake your head at their competitive banter until steve's big body casts a shadow over you. then, you tilt down your sunglasses.

"hey, sweetheart." steve joins you on the grass, leaning against the tree trunk. "you okay? getting bored?"

"i like watching." with a shrug and a timid smile, you tug and twist at his hand until he puts his palm up. you place a smooth, gray, and nearly circular rock there. "that's for you."

steve admires it, turning it a couple times.

"like it?"

"'course i do. i'll put it with the rest when we get home." as if it's a precious gem, he hands it back to you. "keep it for me? i don't wanna lose it."

you nod, slipping it into your purse then looking down at your book. "you're throwing it too hard."

he sighs, frustrated—but he's smiling, too. "i know."

"gotta be gentle, baby."

you squirm happily when steve plants a big, obnoxious kiss on your cheek. "i can be gentle."