Imagine If You Assembled the Avengers: Volume 1

The War's Over, Steve (Steve Rogers x reader)

Ok, so maybe you were overreacting just a bit. It wasn't the book's fault that no matter how many times you read it, the facts wouldn't stick in your memory. It wasn't the book's fault that you sucked at history. It really wasn't the book's fault that as you pitched it across the room in anger, it broke the lamp that your mom gave you as a housewarming gift into pieces across your carpet.

"What the hell was that?"

Steve poked his head into your room with a worried look on his face, startled by the loud crash and yell of anger as you released the book from your grasp.

"Going back to school was a terrible idea. It was your idea." You pointed a finger sharply at him, standing up from your bed with a deep sigh to begin the cleanup process from your momentary rage.

"Hey, don't get angry at me. I'm just trying to be the supportive boyfriend over here. Isn't that what I'm supposed to do?"

"Yeah, but...I'm just so frustrated! I've read the same chapter three times and I don't remember any of it. I mean, really, why do I have to study history for med school anyway? I did this in high school and it sucked just as much then as it does now."

Steve took a few cautious steps into your room, keeping an eye out for any more flying textbooks. "History, huh? I might just have some inside information that could help you." He grabbed the book from the floor and sat on the edge of your bed. "So, where are we?"

"Ow, dammit!" The broken glass was stuck deep in the carpet, making small cuts in your skin as you tried to remove it. "World War 2", you mumbled, with your injured finger in your mouth.

"You know, it's better to clean that wound with soap and water, not saliva. Some doctor you're gonna be."

He dropped the book at his side and raised his hands to defend himself as you lunged forward, knocking him onto his back and laughing as you pinned him down. "You've got some nerve, mister! I'm gonna make you pay for that!" Sure, you were barely able to hold him in place, but you gave it your best effort in order to make your point. His hands were moving rapidly to try to grab you and get the advantage, but you were successful in slapping them away at each attempt.

"Your reflexes are slipping, fella. How old are you?"

"That's it." Steve kicked his leg out to wrap around yours and twisted his hips to flip you onto your back as he took authority. "My reflexes are just fine, my dear. Now, I think playtime is over, and you need to get back to this." He released you and grabbed your book again, sitting up to flip thru the pages.

"You're no fun." If he was going to make you do this, make you go back to the boring drabble of a history book, then he needed to find a way to make it interesting. Pulling yourself up onto your knees, you moved behind him and leaned in to rest your chin on his shoulder. You turned and placed a small kiss on his neck, and felt him shudder slightly at the sensation.

"No, no distractions. You need to get this done."

"Ugh, fine. Maybe if you tell me the stories instead of this horrible read, it might stick."

"I can do that." Steve patted his knee, so you eagerly took your place there as he found the pages you had last read. "Hmm, I don't think that's right..." His fingers flipped thru the chapter, pausing at several places to voice his disagreement with the text. "Come on, I never even said that!"

"Hello? I'm gonna need you to be more specific on the details if you expect me to learn anything." Your expression changed to surprise as you pulled the book from his hands, "hey, wait, you're quoted in here? How did I not see that?"

"Misquoted in there."

"Well then," you said as you rested your head on his shoulder and returned the book to him, "set the record straight. Tell me a story, Captain."