thanksgiving- steve rogers (part 2)

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An hour later, the aromatic scents of pumpkin spice and everything nice filled the air with its sweet, warm scent like a soft autumn breeze on a day of a walk in the park. You were breathing in the nice smell, taking a quick break and basking in the loveliness of it all when you felt someone taser you, jabbing your sides with their fingers.

"STEVE!" you shrieked, whipping around to come face-to-face with a cackling super-soldier. You jumped up onto his back and wrapped your arms around his neck, and your legs around his torso, to stop him from being able to run away.

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he apologized frantically, holding his hands up in surrender. "You can let go of me now."

"Not until you say the words."

"What words?"

"You're Captain America, you should know," you poked the back of his head.

"Fine. Y/N is my favorite Avenger. I love her so much and she deserves the world and I am not worthy enough for her! There! Happy?" He shook his head, trying to contain his grin.

"Very." You hopped off his back and dusted off your hands, looking rather pleased. "Now I assume you've finished what you've needed to do? My turkey is in the oven as of right now."

"I sure have. Just promise me never to take out your wooden spoon again."

"Okay...as long as you stop trying to tease me for my height. It's not my fault the spice cabinets are ten thousand feet up in the air!" you said in defense.

He smirked again, crossing his arms. "You are kind of short."

"I'm only five inches shorter than you!"

"Six and a half."

"Shut up," you muttered, sliding the bowl of salad into the fridge to let it chill.

Meanwhile, Clint, Natasha, Sam, and Peter were over in the next room, ears pressed up against the wall and eavesdropping in on your conversation.

"Guys," Peter whispered in a low voice. "Who would like to bet that they are flirting?"

Everyone raised their hands. Sam scoffed, "It's so obvious though. The way they fight and argue with one another, you can tell that they're secretly pining for each other and the fact alone that Y/N doesn't seem to have a single clue about it, and Cap being oblivious, pisses me off!"

"Yeah," Clint agreed, nodding his head. "Peter, kiddo, you're a teenager so you should know this. What are the signs two best friends secretly are in love with each other even though they act like they hate each other?"

"Oh," Peter chuckled, "the classic excuse for denial. They tease each other and act like they aren't even friends but the way they look at each other can give it all away. Follow me and I'll show you."

The four of them crept out around the corner until they could just barely see the kitchen. You were currently trying to grab something from the spice cabinet and Steve was leaning against the fridge with a smug look on his face.

"Need help?" He raised an eyebrow. "Looks like someone can't grab the salt and pepper."

"Nope," you grunted.

"You look like you really need help," he stated after watching multiple of your failed attempts to grab what you needed.

"Nope," you repeated again.

"I'm helping you." He walked over and grabbed you around the waist, lifting you high enough so you could grab the salt and pepper shakers, setting them down once you got them.

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