OS

The Avengers had been living together long enough for the tower to feel less like a headquarters and more like a chaotic home. Tony and Bruce were arguing in the kitchen, Thor and Clint were laughing nearby, Wanda and Vision were talking by the windows, and Peter was glued to his phone. You sat on the counter, casually flipping a knife through your fingers. Fast, precise, effortless—Natasha had once called you “annoyingly good.” You took it as a compliment. Steve walked in, fresh from his workout, and glanced at the knife. “You know, you’re supposed to use those for cooking.” “I was getting bored.” “Of course you were.” You spun the knife twice before suddenly tossing it across the room. Steve caught it perfectly. The room went quiet. You smiled. “Thanks, Cap.” “Did you just throw a knife at me?” “You caught it.” Peter looked up. “Okay, that was actually really cool.” You walked over and took the knife from Steve. “Good reflexes.” Steve gave you a faint, amused smile. “Do I get a prize?” Clint glanced over. Tony’s eyebrows lifted. Natasha’s mouth twitched with amusement. You simply gave Steve a teasing smile before walking toward the living room. “Oh, this should be fun,” Tony muttered. Steve frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?” “Nothing.” Tony smiled. “Absolutely nothing.” You dropped onto the couch beside Wanda, completely unfazed. Whatever was going on between you and Steve, if anything, was definitely not obvious. Not yet.