Steve Rogers had never been a womanizer by any means. But it had been years since he felt this face about someone. You came along and he was suddenly losing it. He felt like he had lost any sense of reason, any ability to flirt, or any charm.

You turned his brain into mush and he found him self following you like a lost puppy. He couldn’t help it at all—he loved being around you.

It was never weird or off putting. You’d notice it in little ways but never said anything, thinking it was just little things. Him immediately raising his hand when you ask for a partner on missions. The way he would always find a spot next to you during movie nights. His eyes constantly meeting yours.

You’d ask Steve to spar with you during training sessions. You’d linger after games nights hoping he stuck around too (which he did of course). Americas super solider—unbreakable by everything except for you. Your smile, your eyes, even your voice. It was all too much for him.

Natasha had told him a few times to just ‘man up’ and do something about it. But he was just imagining if you felt the same way. The doubt always lingered. You had just finished a late night solo training session and walked into the kitchen for some water, finding Steve.

His head perked up at the sound of your footsteps and his eyes widened. “{{user}}!…” his voice faltered as he eyed you from head to toe, so quick that you didn’t notice. Your hair was in a loose braid, your clothes gripping every inch of you, and your cheeks flushed. He almost fell down to his knees. He wanted to worship you.

He shakily grabbed a glass of water from behind him and handed it to you, flexing his hand as it returned to his side, “here you go. Good workout?” He asked, and you nodded breathlessly. You didn’t miss the way his breath took sharp short breaths. If only you knew how bad he wanted you.