Frozen Watermelon Yoghurt >> Hurt!Steve Rogers X Nurse!Reader

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Title: Frozen Watermelon Yoghurt

Paring: Hurt!Steve Rogers X Nurse!Reader

Warnings: cute Stebe. Just being too cute. Also hurt Stebe. And BFF Sam Wilson. Literally fluffier than a cloud but still has Steve in character because I freaking love stories where he's not perfect.

Spoilers: none? If you've seen CATWS. Which is a cinematic masterpiece and you have to see it if you haven't.

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Steven Grant Rogers was always in trouble. Whether it be by signing up to be the world's first super soldier, going off to war, having dalliances with death in the ice, or where he lay now. In a hospital bed, eyes closed, sleeping. It wasn't like you were a stalker or anything, or a very crazy fangirl of Captain America. No. You were a nurse, not quite fresh out. Two years in the business, and quite shocked when it came in your rota you had to care for the unconscious Mr. Rogers. Now would be the moment you would brag and say your grandmother knew him, but she didn't. You were just a kid from D. C., here by scholarship and borrowed dreams.

And yet, Mr. Rogers didn't wake.

His friend, an amicable man named Sam Wilson would always sit by him, reading a little book or doing a crossword when you came to do your rounds. It was always you; maybe your boss decided one nurse was enough contact the full time superhero needed.

"Eight o'clock, as always," Sam greeted you, nodding kindly. "Good morning, Nurse _______."

You stifle a giggle to your favourite visitor. "Good morning, Mr. Wilson. Any change in Mr. Rogers since my night round?"

Sam shakes his head, and lays down his book. "No change, nothing bad. And please, call me Sam, this is a hospital, not a courtroom."

"I'll keep that in mind, Sam," You nod, moving to check all the vitals on the computer, and start to do the nitty gritty things. "If you don't mind, maybe leaving for a minute, I need to -,"

"Say no more, say no more," Sam beams, joints popping as he stands. "I'll be right outside. You want coffee? A bagel? I'll grab coffee."

Before you can refuse, he's off.

"Now, to clean the wounds," you mutter to yourself, gazing on the man before you.

If it weren't for the neat stitches in his face, and the IVs, you would believe that Steve Rogers was sleeping before you. But he wasn't. And you weren't a fangirl. You were a professional, and you worked hard to become one.

"I wonder if you're always reckless, going on dangerous adventures," you tell him, not expecting a response as you're changing the fluids, and tucking him in the blankets again. "But history repeats itself, it would seem, Mr. Rogers."

The rest of that checkup you continue in silence, with the beeping of the monitor and Mr. Steven Roger's even breaths.

"I didn't know if you wanted sugar or not, so I grabbed a little sachet for you," Sam enters, two coffees in hand. "There you go, Nurse ______. Liquid morning juice."

You sigh, looking at the cup morosely. "Sam, I'm on duty, I really shouldn't -,"

He takes an exaggerated sip, nearly moaning in pleasure. "Mmmm, ambrosia."

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