I Wish You Could Be Honest Chapter Six: Leaving is Only For the Faint of Heart

HYDRA didn’t die out when it failed to take down S.H.I.E.L.D. during the time of the Winter Soldier. Now, top enemy agent Y/N L/N has been sent to finish the job by killing Steve Rogers. When she’s captured by S.H.I.E.L.D., she doesn’t know what to expect, but it certainly doesn’t involve Captain America himself trying to win her over.

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Moore leaves soon enough, and you’re alone on the balcony once more. You turn back to the landscape before you, hoping for something to distract you from the relentless surge of thoughts all crawling down your throat, but even the sky and sun can’t ease your mind anymore. The sunset has finished, the colors are gone. All that’s left is the gradual growing dark of night.

Steve comes back about five minutes later. You have to hand it to him, he tries hard to get you talking anymore, but the charm of your previous conversation has been lost. You feel restless, like you’re a junior agent on her first mission instead of the battle-hardened spy that you’re supposed to be. What happened to make you like this? Who stole your courage like a pickpocket snatching a purse?

You know, of course. Moore coming to tell you about the impending break-out attempt should have lifted your spirits, but it’s just sunk you back down into a wealth of shadows. You knew you would be leaving at some point, or you hoped as much, but now that you’re face to face with the truth, you almost don’t know what to do with yourself.

It’s good news, though. It’s meant to be good news. When Steve gives up and walks with you back to your cell, you force your mind to parade through every happy thing awaiting you back at the HYDRA base. Clean clothes that are actually yours and not just borrowed from the S.H.I.E.L.D. uniforms. Your best weapons. The friends you’ve made. The promotion that’s awaiting you, or at least the familiar burn of a chastisement. Everything about the organization that’s been your life for the past few years.

Yet, when you shut your eyes, alone in your cell once more, you do not see the faces of your boss, nor your coworkers, or even yourself. You see the blond man sitting before you, how he tilts his head back when he laughs and squints his eyes shut as if he can’t even believe himself for thinking what’s been said is funny, let alone you too. 

This illusion of your mind shrugs his shoulders, tips his bottle forward against yours then draws it back just as quickly for a drink. He does not know you’re going, and he won’t, not ever. You can keep a secret, even if you don’t know how to keep it from yourself.

There’s a security camera in the corner, it is watching you with a relentless stare. You sit up slightly, staring it dead in the eyes. Who’s the agent on the other side, looking back at you? Is it someone you’ve hurt? Is it any one of the other friends you made before you betrayed them all when HYDRA reared its head? Hell, is it Steve? Did he see your furrowed brows and wonder what you were hiding from him?

The red recording light blinks once as if in acknowledgement, then shuts off completely. In the weeks you’ve spent in this cell, that has never happened once, not even when Steve was talking to you outside of the interrogation. It stayed on all along.

You stand slowly, wavering as blood rushes to your legs. Moments later, the door to your cell clicks open, a precise sort of sound like the whir of a machine. Your head jerks towards it, your hands clenched into fists. The lights click on about half a second later, revealing Moore standing in the doorway.

He raises his hands in mock surrender, grinning. “You can calm down, L/N. We’re skipping town, so if you’re attacking anyone, it shouldn’t be me.”

You force your shoulders to relax, but there’s still a churning sort of nerves messing up the rest of you. “What happened to waiting it out? I thought we weren’t leaving for a while. Has something happened?”

Moore shakes his head, casually strolling further in the room so he can pretend to check out the room like a potential buyer on a reality TV show. “That was so you would take it easy, like you should be doing now. If I told you that we were going tonight, you would have reacted accordingly. We can’t have you communicating anything to Captain America or his trusty thugs, even by accident. What, did you want to give him a little goodbye kiss?”

You walk closer to Moore, laying a hand on his shoulder and squeezing just enough that he squirms in your grip like a fish out of water. “I’m going to suggest you stop talking and just get me out, or I’m going to tear your arms off.”

Moore laughs nervously, although he does a quick sidestep out of your reach the second he can. He works his shoulder with a free hand, grimacing. “So pleasant, Agent. I can see why you have so many friends.”

At a sharp glance from you, he sighs. “Alright, alright. Let’s go.”

You follow him out of your cell, but you only make it a few steps outside before he stops walking again. 

“Another detour?” You ask. “Why, are the security cameras on a loop or something?”

Moore has the bravery to scoff. “What? No, I know what I’m doing. No one can hear or see us unless they decide to take a trip down to the incarceration block for a fun nighttime activity.”

You give him a pointed look. “Then why are we stopping?”

Moore pulls a stack of key cards out of his pocket, handing half to you. “I’ve ordered some cell rearrangements. Everyone in this hall is a member of HYDRA. If we’re doing one jailbreak, we’re doing them all.”

You nod, grabbing the cards. Moore walks past you to the other end of the hall and begins to unlock another door. You were in the cell on the far left, so you move one door over and swipe a card against the lock. It opens with that same mechanical click, revealing an agent tied to a chair in the dead center of the room.

You recognize her, having seen this very same agent when you first arrived at the S.H.I.E.L.D. cell block. It’s Henrietta Clarke, the woman Steve took you to visit in the hopes of seeing whether you’d rat out anyone in HYDRA if given a chance at freedom. You hadn’t revealed her then, but upon coming face to face with her again, you can’t help but remember Steve’s words. 

He had said that you were the only HYDRA agent who had refused to turn in a fellow agent, contrary to what you had been told in the past. It’s HYDRA principle to never betray your coworkers, yet not one of your captured agents had ever played by that rule. Steve could have been lying, of course, but you’ve memorized his tells like a gambler memorizing the day’s lotto numbers. You know when Steve is lying, and he wasn’t lying then.

You push the thought out of your head. You don’t have time to think about Steve, not now. If you’re captured at this point, no amount of tricks will save you from a true interrogation. You’ve been offered an olive branch, and you need to use it to escape now. If Steve finds out about your attempt to flee, he’ll never offer you the same kindness again.

You reach for the dummy S.H.I.E.L.D. badge on your arm, removing the hidden blade in one crisp movement. As you saw at Clarke’s restraints, though, you can’t force your thoughts from Steve any longer. Moore wasn’t wrong about the date change for the break-out. If you had known that you were leaving tonight, you would have–

Well, what would you have done? Would you have told Steve that you were leaving, would you have hoped for a goodbye? Not a chance. Steve is still your enemy, even if you think you can share drinks with him on a sunny afternoon. There is no future that doesn’t involve the two of you gunning for each other, and no amount of jokes and false pretenses can change that. 

It’s over now, it’s done. This hasn’t been one of the worst lies you’ve told, and if you’re going to be honest with yourself, you might even miss it on late nights when the solitude of a spy’s life gets to you. Maybe you’ll reminisce whenever you see a man who smiles with eyes even half that blue, or when you delude yourself into thinking that you’ll ever be more than a killer. One man thought that you could be more than just yourself, and you’re proving him wrong right now.

You tug through the last of Clarke’s restraints with a savage tug of your blade, and she stands up. You can’t return her relieved smile, just slap another key card into her palm and tell her to start letting people out. You open door after door, and eventually, you meet up with Moore and a dozen or so newly freed agents.

From there, it’s relatively simple. Moore must have been planning this operation with other HYDRA agents for a while, because he’s got everything under lock. You can admit that much, even though you still think the guy’s a greasy asshole who’s far less slick than he thinks.

He manages to get you back your uniform and guns, too, even though your belongings are probably covered in trackers and have to be ditched soon enough. Well, the thought counts. Moore has identified specific corridors that are monitored by dead cameras, and you and your entourage of liberated HYDRA agents dash through the hallways as quickly as you can.

You’re running on adrenaline and the hope that you’ll get out soon, so when Moore starts directing you further into the S.H.I.E.L.D. complex instead of towards the doors leading out, you can’t help but feel frustrated.

You catch up to him, and mutter under your breath as you run. “Excuse my confusion, but I thought we were supposed to be leaving, not staying around even longer. Shouldn’t we be going the other direction?”

Moore smirks. “That’s if we’re going immediately, yes. We still have a shot to finish your mission.”

Something like ice starts to claw its way out of your stomach, freezing around your heart and crawling up your throat to tip your tongue with cold. “What does that mean?”

He chuckles. “Oh, come on. We’ll never get a chance like this again. Steve Rogers is going to come out of that door over there in approximately thirty seconds, and he’ll never be able to take on all of us, not when we have surprise on our side. I bet you twenty he doesn’t even have his shield with him.”

You turn to face him slowly. “We’re killing him now?”

This is too much. You were barely pulling yourself together when you thought you were leaving Steve with nothing, but now? You try to visualize what is about to happen. Steve comes walking out of those doors, coasting on the feeling of being safe for once in his life. He isn’t watching his back. He doesn’t have to, not in his own base.

What will happen when he sees you, out of your cell and surrounded by your own men? Will you watch those sky blue eyes flash with surprise, then grow cold when he realizes that you’ve betrayed him? You are the primary agent here, even though Moore’s been leading this rescue operation for a while. You will be the one expected to take your gun and pull the trigger.

It will be your hands stained with red, then. It will be your bullet piercing Steve’s skull. He will fall dead at your feet, because you never miss and you certainly won’t when he’s so close to you. Will you wait for him to realize the situation before you take the shot, or will you save yourself the torment of watching him understand, and kill him before he knows you’ve turned traitor once again?

All this flashes before your eyes in the space of about half a second. You blink, hard, to clear away the vision of Steve lying dead at your feet, and the linoleum clears itself of blood in about half a second. You have killed many times before, and murdered people far more innocent than Steve. You were ready to assassinate him weeks ago. You can do it again. You have no other choice but to do it again.

But Moore is shaking his head. 

“No, not this time, I’m afraid. We’ll do it eventually, of course, but he’s been so open to you that it’s got me thinking. Why cut off a perfectly good lead if you can keep using it? I’m thinking we take Rogers back with us to base, glean every piece of information we can, then shut him up once and for all. I mean, I’ve been undercover here for a while, and they only let me know so much. I can’t imagine the wealth of knowledge Rogers is sitting on, and if he shares even half of it, we’re golden.”

You let out a slow breath, feeling oddly relieved. “Alright, then. Shoot to wound?”

Moore considers this, then frowns, disagreeing. “Why bother? The noise would only alert people. We surround him, maybe rough him up a bit to get him to surrender, then knock him cold. We’ve got enough people that we can get him out without too much fuss. There’s a vehicle parked right out that door.”

You nod. “You’ve certainly planned this out well.”

It’s a statement of judgment, but Moore just seems pleased by it. “Yes, I have. Gratitude looks good on you.”

You’re not certain that you’re grateful in the slightest, but you don’t have time to unpack that, because the doors at the far end of the hall are opening and Steve Rogers is stepping out into the corridor. As the door shuts behind him, he freezes slightly, noticing that there’s a crowd of people where there should be nothing but empty rooms.

His eyes meet yours, flash to the people around you, then back to you again. He tilts his head back slightly, knowingly. “I suppose there’s no way I can convince you to go back to your cells, then?”

Moore laughs, the sound strangely discordant as it echoes off the half empty walls. “Not a chance. Stand down, Rogers. We’ve got you outnumbered.”

Steve shakes his head once. “Not the way I see it.”

Despite Steve’s bravado, Moore isn’t wrong. Steve may be a supersoldier, but even he can’t take on more than a dozen HYDRA agents that have been spending the last few weeks or even months biding their time for a chance to strike. He puts up a good fight, but there’s nothing he can do.

Eventually, he’s forced to the ground, his hands on his head. Moore rummages around in his pack for a syringe, and you find yourself standing directly in front of Steve, looking down at him.

Steve’s gaze is unwavering, and you feel the need to speak, anything to get this sudden, looming weight off of your chest. “Hey, don’t look at me like that. You knew I was a bad guy all along. It’s not my fault if you wanted to believe something different.”

Steve’s expression doesn’t change for a heartbeat. “I don’t believe it anymore.” He says, and you rear back for just a second as if he’s slapped you.

At the same time, Moore, having located the syringe at last, jams the tip into Steve’s neck and pushes in the plunger, releasing the sedative. Steve’s eyes shut in a matter of seconds, but you swear you can still feel his gaze burning holes into your head.

Moore looks up at you triumphantly. “Well, we did it. Mission accomplished, I’d say.”

You smile back feebly, and you don’t think it’s ever been harder to fake such a simple expression. “Mission accomplished,” you repeat.

This is supposed to be a celebration, a chance for you to finally go home, but you can’t seem to stop one question from replaying in your head, again and again until you think you might go mad:

What have you done?

series/marvel tag list: @maluisamarvelfan123,@navs-bhat,@thatfangirl42,@rogueanschel,@mycosmicparadise,@ellobruv,@caswinchester2000,@with-inked-solace, @sher-lokid7, @amortensie,@23victoria,@watchreadfangirlrepeat,@faiirybread

Part 1|Part 2|Part 3|Part 4 

Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary:You patch things up with Steve, but will Laurie take you back?

Word Count: 1300

Warnings:Language, fluff, angst.

A/N:Well, this is not my best, but I still like this one. Hope you guys do too! Also, not my gif. Credit to the owner. You know the drill.

He answered after one ring. “Hello?” God, you missed his voice. 

“Steve,” you breathed, tears still streaming down your face. It was like a dam had broken and now your eyes were flooded. Your voice was shaking, and you had to speak quietly so you wouldn’t cry anymore. “It’s me.”

It was quiet on his end for a moment or two, and then you heard him sigh. Was he relieved? “Thank God.” He said breathlessly, and you could almost picture him running his hands through his hair. 

“And you’re sure?” Steve asked for about the thousandth time.

“Yes,” You insisted, grabbing his hands. You stood in your living room, by the front door. As soon as Steve had walked in you had rushed over to him. “Yes, I’m sure. It’ll be hard, but I’d rather see you a little bit at a time then not at all.” You laced your fingers together with his. 

He grinned slowly, his eyes nearly sparkling as he looked down at you. You could almost hear the ocean when you looked in his eyes. “Okay?” you said after he didn’t say anything, squeezing his hands gently to make sure he was still alive. 

“Okay,” he chuckled, bending down slightly to kiss you. You helped him fill the space by standing just slightly on your toes, your lips meeting in the middle. God, I missed this, you thought, moving your lips against his. Soon his hands let go of yours and traveled to your waist, pulling you closer. You reached up and wrapped your arms around his neck, not opening your eyes or breaking the connection between him for one second. He lifted you up off the ground and spun you around for a second, causing you to giggle into his mouth. 

Finally he set you down, and you parted, grinning at him with slightly flushed cheeks. “I missed you so much,” you said, pulling him more into your apartment.

“I missed you too, doll,” he replied, chuckling. “I thought about coming into the store a few times, and buying a phone case again. But I figured you would need your space.”

You smiled as you remembered the first time you had met him. You just knew him as Captain America then, this man who fought to protect the world and had been frozen for like, a hundred years (not a hundred, but you didn’t know the exact number). But now, you knew him as Steve, this kind, wonderful, amazing man who swept you off your feet and made you feel so happy, and safe, and invincible. 

You spent the night holed up in your apartment with Steve, catching up on the last month you’d missed with him. He told you what he could about all the missions he’d been on, and shared a few stories of being recognized in public. You told him about your fight with Laurie, and how you felt so guilty about leaving things the way they were with her. 

“Well, then, you have to talk to her,” Steve said. You were sitting on the couch with him now, talking. He reached over and brushed your hair behind your ears. “You guys have been friends too long just to let it fizzle out like that.”

You thought it was sweet how much he cared, and moved so that you weren’t facing him anymore; instead, your back was pressed against his chest, legs extending across the couch. He pressed a kiss against the top of your head and you could feel his chest rising and falling- steady and sure. 

“You’re probably right,” you sighed, closing your eyes. He ran his fingers through your hair. “Tomorrow,” you promised, letting out a yawn. “I’ll talk to her tomorrow.”

You stood in front of Laurie’s apartment, an olive branch in hand. Not an actual olive branch, but a peace offering of sorts. It was a plastic bag full of Laurie’s favorite candy and makeup from work. You glanced down at your phone. A text from Steve helped you work up the courage to knock.

You can do this, doll. Just talk to her. 

-Steve 

You took in a deep breath, and, with your free hand, knocked on the door. 

After a few moments, Laurie answered. She frowned when she saw it was you, and just stood there. She didn’t say anything, just stared at you with her arms crossed over her chest. You swallowed the lump in your throat. 

“I, uh, I brought you this,” you said, handing her the bag. She glanced down in to it and, after moments of consideration, allowed you to come inside. 

“I’m sorry I was such an asshole,” you spoke again, biting your lip. “I shouldn’t have taken all my frustrations with Steve out on you, and I shouldn’t have said what I did. I was being a bad friend, and you were being a good friend by calling me out on my bullshit.”

You sighed. You’d said your piece, and now all you had to do was wait for Laurie to forgive you… or decide she never wanted to see you again. 

After minutes- literally, minutes- of agonizing silence, Laurie rolled her eyes. “You swear you’re done acting like a lunatic?” she asked, looking at you. 

“Yes,” you said, smiling softly. “Yes. Lunacy over. They’ve released me from the asylum.”

“Well, then, get over here, you dumb-ass,” Laurie said, opening her arms. You stepped forward and hugged your best friend, feeling all the pieces finally fall into place. 

After the hug, you and Laurie spent the evening watching your favorite movies, quoting the lines you knew so well. She ordered Thai food and pizza and you pigged out with her on food you didn’t need, but damn did it taste good. You split a bottle of wine with her and sang stupid songs at the top of your lungs, and you were so happy to have your best friend back. 

The next day, you met with Steve at the grocery store. He only had an hour to spare today to see you, and you had to go shopping for the week before you went to work. You spotted the faded blue baseball cap and knew it was him. 

Holding the basket in one hand and Steve’s hand in the other, the two of you walked down the aisles and you occasionally would toss something in the basket. You held a conversation with your boyfriend, talking to him about stuff that didn’t really matter. Then finally, as you approached the produce section, he brought up something that did matter.

“So, Stark- Tony, I mean - is hosting this big, stupid party to celebrate the Avengers being together for three years,” he said, and you chuckled to yourself. “What?” He asked, nudging you with his shoulder.

“That’s so sweet,” you said, grabbing an apple and putting it in the basket. “It’s like an anniversary party. An Aveng-iversary.” You laughed, because you thought you were hilarious.

Steve didn’t. He just shook his head and rolled his eyes. “You are insane,” he said, scoffing at you lightly. “But as I was saying, he’s having this big party, and he told us we could invite whoever we want. And I want you.” He stopped, then scrunched his face slightly. “To be there. I want you to come with me. It’s next Saturday. Can you make it?”

You thought of the work schedule and after a moment or two, nodded. “Yeah, I can make it,” You said, grinning. 

“Good,” He said, kissing the side of your head. “Cause my coworkers can’t wait to meet you.”

“Coworkers?” You scoffed. “You mean, the rest of the Avengers?”

Steve nodded, and it dawned on you. A night meeting the rest of the Avengers? Holy shit. You were in trouble. 

Tags:

@whiskeyandwashitape@thelostswan@theonethingforyouu@alilianamendez@superwholockian5ever

Part 1 |Part 3 |Part 4 |Part 5

Steve Rogers x Reader 

Summary:Your second date with Steve doesn’t go exactly according to plan.

Word Count: 1302

Warnings:A bit of Steve-disapproved language, and lots o’ fluff.

A/N:I was so happy to see how many likes and reblogs part 1 got! Thanks to everyone who is reading this! Let me know if you actually want a part 3 to this or something different. Make requests, give me prompts. Gif is not mine– credit to the owner.

“Motherfucker!”

You looked at your hand, which was bright red from where you’d just burned it on the frying pan. Immediately, you dashed over to the sink and ran it under cool water, letting out a heavy sigh of relief. It was a small burn- nothing a little Neosporin and a bandage couldn’t fix. 

It was probably a good thing Steve hadn’t arrived yet. Get all your ‘Motherfuckers’ out now, you reminded yourself. 

This was your second date- you, cooking dinner for him, at your apartment. The first date had been dinner and a movie- well, dinner and half of a movie. Steve had gotten a call to go to work in the middle of it, and had to leave you all by yourself in that theater. And you were slightly irritated, yeah, but at the same time, you understood that ‘work’ for him was saving the planet from an alien invasion or rescuing hostages from a pirate-raided aircraft carrier. So you just reminded yourself that he wouldn’t leave unless it was important.

You were making him homemade pizza, an easy recipe you had learned from your mom while growing up. After patching up your burn, you turned your attention back to the pizza. You had the crust just slightly baked already, and now it was time to top it. Shit, you thought, scratching your head inquisitively. What does he like on pizza? 

You glanced at the clock- there was about fifteen minutes before he was supposed to arrive. You thought of all the possible toppings you had in your fridge, and just decided he could pick what he wanted. So you grabbed the spinach and the peppers and olives, pepperoni, ham, cheese, and pizza sauce all out of the refrigerator, and assembled them on the table next to the partially-baked crust. Realizing you still looked like garbage, you rushed into your room, ripping off your sweats and changing into a pair of jeans, and a not-covered-in-flour t-shirt. You double checked your hair, and applied light makeup just to cover a few blemishes. 

Then you buzzed around the living room, straightening out the throw pillows on the couch and the magazines on the coffee table. You wanted things to look nice, and who could blame you? A superhero was coming over.

After making sure everything was all straightened out- and almost exactly on time- there was a knock at the door. You took in a deep breath, walked over to the door, and opened it. “Hey!” You said, maybe sounding a little too excited. 

On the other side of the door, there was Steve. He was so cute. He had on a plaid shirt tucked in to his slacks. Everything was so clean-cut and adorable.

“Hello,” he chuckled, and you stepped aside to let him in. “Wow, it smells really good in here.” You shut the door and smiled. “What are you making again?”

“Pizza,” you replied, making your way into the kitchen. He followed you. “And I realized I never asked what you liked on pizza, so I just thought we could top it together,” you leaned against the table in the kitchen, presenting your topping station.

Steve smiled slowly, and your heart fluttered. You’d definitely gotten more comfortable around him since your first, and second, meetings. However, he still made  you feel nervous, but in a really good way. Like you were constantly on a hot-air balloon ten-thousand feet in the air. 

“I’ve never actually made pizza before,” he admitted.

“First time for everything, then, I guess?”

You’d let him pick the music, and of course he’d decided on some old-school, smooth jazz. The pizza was in the oven- topped with literally everything you’d put on the table- and now the two of you were sitting on the couch, just talking and waiting for the timer to go off. 

“I feel like I’m in an elevator,” you laughed as a saxophone solo ended.

Steve laughed, shaking his head. “You can change it,” he said, glancing over at the speaker. 

“No, I like it. It’s nice.” 

You listened to the music- it was kind of relaxing and you could definitely see this lulling you to sleep. 

“Did you have to work today?” Steve asked, and you shook your head.

“No, I get Saturdays off. Did…” You trailed off.

“What?” he asked, poking you in the leg. 

“Nothing,” you said, shaking your head lightly.

“No, you were going to say something. What?” he asked again.

You shook your head again. “Well, I was just going to ask if you worked today. But I figured you probably couldn’t tell me.”

Steve knitted his brows together, and sighed. “I mean, yeah, you’re right. But I can tell you some things, I think. As long as you swear not to tell anyone.” 

“I swear,” You said, and held up your pinky for good measure. He linked pinkies with you, smiling goofily, and you swore. 

“We had an intense training today- the Avengers,” Steve said. You nodded. “Just a lot of working out and throwing things- nothing crazy.”

“Right, right, nothing crazy,” You deadpanned, rolling your eyes playfully. “Probably just, you know, tossing train cars in the air and catching them, and shooting off high-tech bazooka guns.” 

Steve laughed. “I think you would be pleasantly surprised with what we actuallydo to train.”

“Then I’ll just keep my version of it,” you said.

“I thought I set the timer for twenty minutes!” You exclaimed, frustrated, as you held a burned pizza in your oven-mitt-covered hands. Sighing, you set the pan down on the stove and crossed your arms over your chest. 

“It’s alright, Y/N,” Steve said, leaning against the counter. 

“No,” you huffed, looking at the settings on the oven. “It’s not- I’ve made this pizza dough a billion times. I need to know what went wrong.” 

“And they say I’m dramatic,” Steve muttered, and you glared at him. “Woah, sorry,” he said, his eyes widening slightly. “Scary Y/N.” 

You stuck out your tongue playfully before looking at the oven again. After some ‘intense’ investigating, you realized that the temperature of the oven was wrong. Instead of 350 degrees, you had somehow set it to 450. 

“Dammit,” you murmured, sighing heavily. You looked over at Steve, realizing that pizza-induced anger was probably not super attractive to him. “Sorry,” you said, a disappointed tone present in your voice. “I just wanted tonight to be special, and I wanted to impress you, and cook for you, and have a nice dinner.” 

He shook his head, taking a step forward. “Tonight already was special,” he said, reaching down and grabbing your hand. A million fireworks lit off- this was the first time he’d held your hand before. “You don’t need to try to impress me, Y/N,” he said, smiling down at you. “I really, really like spending time with you, homemade pizza or not.” 

His hand was like twice as big as yours as he interlocked your fingers, and pressed a kiss to your forehead. Your bodies were so close- you’d not been this into someone in a long time. The jazz was playing in the other room, and it didn’t matter that your whole apartment smelled like burned pizza. Everything was alright, and you felt safe here, one hand locked onto Steve’s, the other wrapped around his torso. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to let him take care of you, so long as you could take care of him from time to time. 

You ended up ordering Dominoes’ and cuddling on the couch, your head against his chest and his arm around your shoulders. He didn’t have to leave halfway through, which was nice, and you fell asleep on his chest, the sounds of jazz and his big, strong heartbeat lulling you to sleep.  

• A/N: In honor of Endgames coming out this week, I thought I’d start with a little Steve Rogers imagine. This is pretty much sad. There is only speculation at this point, but we already know we are gonna lose some of our favorite superheroes. Am I the only one who will be a sobbing mess after seeing that movie ?
  Enjoy, Jaymes.

« Steve? »

Standing on her balcony, he kept on watching the sky.

« I don’t think I can do this anymore, Y/N » He whispered.

« Do what? »

« I’m tired of fighting »

She walked to him, putting a comforting hand on his back.

« Are you expecting me to ask you to stay ? » She muttered.

She could not see the slight smile on his face, a sweet picture of their life together forming in his head, a life they would had if he decided to stay.

« There’s nothing I wish more than to stay here, with you. » He confessed.

« There’s nothing I wish more than for that to be true »

He vehemently turned to look at her, confusion written all over his face.

«  Are you saying I’m lying ? » He asked with surprise.

« I don’t think you’re capable of lying, Steve »

« Then what do you mean ? »

« … I know you. Probably more than you know yourself at this point. » She started, her hand slowly stroking his « You’re a soldier, a super soldier. You leave to right the wrong, to fight for the people, to speak for them. You are brave, braver than anybody I’ve ever met, and this bravery will always lead you to a battlefield, not to me »

« That’s not true » He quickly replied.

She simply smiled, caressing his cheek with the back of her hand.

« You’re a hero for those people, and they need you now »

« I’m not sure I’m anyone’s hero anymore, Y/N »

« Well at least you can be sure you’ll always be mine »

Watching her closely, he knew she was dead serious. She had always believed in him, sometimes even more than he believed in himself.

« I thought you liked superman » He joked. « Wasn’t you that suggested I should wear a cap like him? »

She planted herself in front of him, firmly, taking his face between her hands and forcing him to look at her eyes before she spoke.

« Not all heroes wear capes, Steve » She whispered, almost like it was a secret. « But they all share one thing in commun »

« Bravery ? » He joked with a small smile.

« Stupidity »

He chuckled, not expecting that answer.

« What is that suppose to mean ? »

« It means you’re not unbreakable. » She muttered. « It means there will be that one final fight, the one you don’t come back from, because whatever happens on the battlefield, you’ll always think of saving people before saving yourself. One day you won’t make it home and I’ll know one of them is alive because you’re dead. »

« Y/N … »

She pursed her lips, trying to hold back a sob.

« You need to hear this before you leave, Steve » She started, her forehead against his, both of their eyes closed. « I love you, with all my heart. That won’t change, ever. You are the best part of me. So when they’ll try to tear you down, think of me, and remember someone is waiting for you home. »

« I will » He promised

He gently leaned in and pulled her into a fiery and passionate kiss. Her hands work their way around his neck, his around her waist. It was slow and soft, as comforting as words would never be. His thumb caressed her cheek as he took a step back. She ran her fingers down his spine, making his shiver. His eyes closed, he swore he’d always remember this moment. He pulled her close, until there was no space left between them and she could feel the beating of his heart against her chest.
For a while, not a words were spoken between them, but a story worthy of them was communicated.

« I’m coming home, Y/N » He forcefully answered.

« I know you’ll do your best. I’m gonna miss you, Captain »

« Not as much as I’ll miss you » He smiled.

She dropped her head on his chest, her ear against his heart, the simple sound of it enough to comfort her.

« When I’ll come back, I’ll ask you to marry me » He confessed.

She giggled.

« Aren’t you suppose to keep that a secret until you propose ? »

« I figured conventional was not made for us »

« Then you should probably know I’ll say yes when you’ll ask, so you better make sure you stay alive and in one piece, Captain »

A tear rolled down her cheek when she felt his belly tremble with his laugh. Oh how she would missed this.

« Is that an order ? » He lightly joked.

« Is it » She seriously answered, raising her head to look at him. « Come back to me, Steve »

Taking a deep breath, he inhaled her scent before he’d have to leave. His thumb gently brushed the tears as he planted his lips on her forehead.

« You know I always will » He muttered, kissing her. « I love you, Y/N »

Her eyes closed, all she could feel was the thick air around her. Though her mind called out for his, he was gone, and finally she knew that time to be alone had come. Standing on the balcony, she kept watching the sky, almost expecting to see a sign he was still here. Profound sadness is all she felt, fatigue engraved on her worn out face after the events of the last couple of days.

« I knew I’d found you here » She heard a voice behind her.

She didn’t turn around. She didn’t want to hide her pain, it was useless. Everyone could see just how broken she was

«  Hey, Buck’ » She simply answered.

She heard him coming closer, felt his cold metal hand on her shoulder. He didn’t need to say anything. What she felt, he felt it twice as hard.
Her mind was numb, empty. She couldn’t concentrate on anything. Where there was once his love, his light, his laugh, was now an aching hollowness.

« I miss him too » The soldier whispered.

She closed her eyes, the tears unwillingly flowing. She could almost picture him, only days ago, standing next to her on this very balcony. Telling her how much he loved her.

« It’s so unfair, Buck »

« I know »

« We were supposed to have more time » She muttered. « He was supposed to come home »

« He fought his way home to you, Y/N. You can be damn sure he tried his best »

She sighed.

« I shouldn’t have let him go » She admitted. « As selfish as it sound, the world could have burnt if it meant for him to stay alive »

« You don’t mean that »

She turned to look at him.

« Why ? Why did it have to be him ? »

« You know why, you know what happened » He answered. « Half of the Avengers in that room behind us wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for Steve »

She closed her eyes, turning back to look at the sky.

« I know it hurts, Y/N » He brokenly whispered. « I’ve lost him twice now. But there was no stopping him »

« I knew this would happened » She confessed. « Something was off, I could feel it »

« Nobody could have prevented this »

« My own damn fault for falling in love with Captain America »

She abruptly stood straight

« He was stupid. I told him, all of you superheroes are fools, thinking you can fight without taking a hit. Look where that got us, he’s dead Bucky » Her lips trembled. « Steve is …. he’s dead »

Her sadness was a flowing river, cold and unending. It washed all the goodness out of her and left her a mere shell of what she had once been with him.
Bucky didn’t hesitate a second and took his friend in his arms.  Wrapping his metal arm around her shoulders, he pulled her closer, gently rubbing her arm. She sunk into the warmth of his side, appreciative of the simple gesture. They were both hurting, they both needed this, needed each other to be able to grief.
His arms squeezed harder when he felt her tears on his shoulder.

« He loved you, Y/N. So much »

« How am I suppose to live without him ? » She whispered.

« I’m asking myself the same question. We’ve both lost a part of our family »

He took a step back to look at her.

« But we are gonna get though this. You and me, doll. I’ve got your back »

« I’m sorry you lost him again, Bucky »

The look of sheer pain on his face was enough to break her heart all over again.

« I was lucky enough to find him after 70 years, I’m sure we haven’t seen the last of him » He stated, more to comfort himself than his friend.

She hummed in response, her head turning back to the empty casket full of ashes in the middle of the room.

« Captain America celebration, huh ? » She said, reading the big sign one of the Avenger had placed.

« Tony’s idea. Seemed more fitting than a funeral »

She could see them, all the Avengers, all sitting in that room filled of heavy silence.

« Can you see ? » Bucky asked. « The Avengers started with him, that small punk from Brooklyn wanting to save the world. He showed us what it was like to care, to fight for something you believe in. He opened the way to the other heroes. Can you see, Y/N, that without him, there wouldn’t be anyone in this room ? We exist because a skinny kid believed he could change an entire system. And he did »

« Captain America’s legacy » She answered.

« We are his legacy. He will never be dead, not really. Everything he did for this world, we cary with us. And which each enemy we’ll face in the future, we will keep in head that the first Avenger that led that fight was Captain America and we owe it to him to protect and lead by heart, the way he led us to victory when he gave up his life. This was his endgame, not ours »

« You will make a terrific Captain, Bucky »

« I had a terrific example » He smiled.

Taking a closer look inside the room, she could see just how much he was right. Every soul in there had been touch by Steve Rogers. They had been more than teammates, he had created a family, and despite past differences and new arrivals, she knew the Avengers would cary his soul. She had lost him, but what a lucky ride it was by his side.

« To Steve Rogers » She murmured, raising her glass.

«To Steve Rogers»

I owe you guys an apology

It’s been a long time since I’ve posted anything, since I wrote anything to be honest
Every time I say I’ll do a challenge, or a request, all I’m hoping is that I’ll have the courage to write again, to enjoy doing it again.
The excuse I’ve given you is that I’m a student and university takes most of my time. While that’s partially true, there’s also another issue that I’ve tried to ignore.
Maybe you’ve read one of my Charles Xavier’s request, Pocrescophobia. If so, you know what I’m going to say.
The reason I’m not writing anymore is because I’m sick. Mentally sick. Which is still hard to admit if you ask me. I’ve created a whole world made of numbers, disgust and self-hatred. My doctor call it anorexia, I just call it hell.
I’m sorry I’ve not been present, I’m sorry I’ve stopped writing. A lot of you send me messages to know when I’ll be back, and the answer is I don’t know. “Recovery” is awfully painful but I promise I’ll be back with more stories, I just don’t know when.

Jaymes.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader

Oneshot

Summary: feeling insecure about your looks, Steve helps you to see what he sees.

You put away the last bit of the laundry. Life has been crazy this whole last week. The guys have been on mission after mission, meanwhile the aching pain in your side hasn’t subsided. Bruce, not to your delight, thinks you shouldn’t even be training. But you would go completely stir crazy laying in bed or on the couch all day.

             What the boys know won’t hurt them. Besides, you want to try to stay in shape. Anytime you are under bed rest, you feel like your muscles turn to mush and your totally body fat sky rockets. Being insecure your whole life about your looks, you finally started to feel comfortable with all the cardio and weightlifting.

             Especially around your friends from before becoming an Avenger. They all know you are a part of the team, your costume doesn’t exactly hide your identity. Neither did the fact that you blew up a baseball with your bare hands in college because it scared you. At a game the batter hit the ball into the crowd, it was coming for you, you threw your hands up in defense but never felt the ball hit your skin. Instead the ball fell to the ground in the small pieces that were left.

             Fury found you shortly after. Explained to you that there are others, a team, a family that you could be a part of. You accepted the offer and never looked back. For once you felt like you belonged, but every once in a while some of your insecurities come flooding back.

“Hey gorgeous,” Steve’s deep voice creeps around your door frame. Joining your curled up body on your bed, Steve brushes your free hair behind your ear. “I have a surprise for you. I know you’ve been cooped up in this building for two weeks, so I brought your two friends from home.”

“Really?” You slowly sit up, griping your side. It feels like forever since you’ve seen them, and you’ve missed them desperately.

             Steve nods his head with a smile. And before you know it, you leave Steve to smell the burning rubber from your rapid departure. Running through the pain, you make it to the corridor to see your long-term friends standing in awestruck wonder at the architecture.

“Oh my god! Christi! Abby!” You manage to apply your breaks just in time to keep from barreling the girls to the floor. Collecting your composure, you wrap each in an arm and offer a big group hug.

“Safe to say you like your surprise?” Steve appears by the stairs with a smug smirk.

             Letting go of your girls, you race back toward Steve. Leaping into his arms, the pain doesn’t present itself until Steve’s arms securely wrap around you. Steve gets in a spin or two before putting you down. Kissing your temple, Steve apologizes for hurting you but you just shrug it off.

             The girls and you end up in the art studio down the hall from your room. The movie Book Club plays in the background as the three of you attempt to paint while drinking your glasses of wine. Christi wants to know everything about the male Avengers. She is on the market for a boyfriend, and thinks a superhero will be a perfect match. However, Abby just wants to know about you and Steve.

“You two ARE dating right?” Abby takes a sip of her wine and wiggles the brows.

“We haven’t really put a title on it yet,” you can feel the warmth from the wine spread to your face. “We are definitely more than friends, but he has been so busy lately. Maybe once I’m back on the field we can talk about it.”

             The girls tell you how impressed they were that Steve came to get them. They assumed when he got back from missions, the two of you would be inseparable. Honestly, they aren’t wrong but you also get your fair shared time with the others on the team. But that’s Steve, he is very big on personal space. It’s something you are very thankful for. Even though the two of you aren’t officially together it is easy to get lost in someone else and forget the world around you.

             After painting, you move into the movie room. It is getting late, and you all are getting fairly tired. Sitting on the couch your gaze wanders to your thighs. In your peripheral you see the thin outline of your own friend’s thighs and notice how drastic the change is. You pretend not to notice the difference in body types between you and your friends.

             Suddenly all insecurities from college and high school come flooding back. The fact that you were admiring your own body in the mirror just hours ago escapes you. Any feeling of accomplishment from your workouts, training, missions no longer exists. Not next to Christi and Abby.

             You know it’s not their fault, and you’re not bitter toward them whatsoever. Christi eats a lot of junk but just so happens to be gifted with the perfect metabolism gene. Abby just does her own thing, no workouts and no dieting, but it works for her. You have always had more fat to you. Before becoming an Avenger, home workouts never did a thing and changing your diet did nothing as well. Since being here you have lost 20 lbs but you are still 10 – 15 lbs heavier than your friends next to you.

             Agreeing on a childhood favorite, you grab a blanket and curl up in a ball. The more coverage you provide the greater the lie you can tell yourself of what lies beneath. The girls follow suit and the three of you talk and make comments about the movie until the three of you pass out.

             Only a few hours later your body atomically wake up around 7:00 am. No matter the time you fall asleep, or the quality of sleep, your body always has a habit of waking you up early in the morning. The only other person in this building that I normally awake at this time is Steve. Though, after the rest he probably needed after the mission he is most likely still in bed.

             You crawl off the couch carefully trying not to wake the girls. A searing pain ripples through your right side to your leg. Biting your lip helps keep your internal scream from moving up your throat. Shimmying the rest of the way out of the room, you head towards the locker room to start training.

“What do you think you are doing?” His surprisingly stern voice echoes through the training room as soon as you enter.

“STEVE! Seriously, one day you are going to give me a heart attack.”

             Ignoring Steve’s original question, you make your way to the punching bag. You feel the need to build up your strength in your left arm. Perhaps if you get your strength back up the rest of the team may be convinced to let you back on the field early.

             Hearing your fist hit leather, the sounds doesn’t over power the feeling of you skin shift. My body is ultimately made up of fat! I’m not even muscle, just fat and bone! Tears sting  behind your eyes as the comments of from arrogant assholes from your past echo with each punch.

She’s easier to aim for, (Y/N)’s bigger than the others!

(Y/N) is a nice friend. I know she likes me, but you look more like my type.

             As each voice filters through your ears each punch against the bag gets harder and harder. The sound radiates through the training center. Completely in a trance, you don’t notice Steve’s gaze on you as he approaches closer. Right before he gets too close you realize your leg muscles need a workout as well, and you take off towards the track.

“(Y/N)!” Steve shouts but the pain in your side is all you can focus on.

             Wheezing, your arm wraps around your right side in attempt to console it. The pain radiates down the side of your body toward your leg once again. With each step you start to feel like jello.

             The sound of your body hitting the ground registers before the additional pain does. Dazed and confused how you got there, you feel a presence next to you. They place both their hands on each side of your face and examine for any blood. You’d swat them away if it wasn’t for the sudden want of physical touch.

“Steve, do you think you’d prefer if I was skinnier?” Sleepiness invades your senses.

“What are you talking about?”

             You don’t say anything else as Steve scoops you in his arms. All you do is point to your thighs and the little pudge on your stomach. Steve says nothing as he carries you to your room. All he does is place a soft kiss to the side of your head before laying you down on your bed covers.

“Where is this coming from?” Steve inquires, but you only shrug your shoulders. The both of you know that you do. Steve doesn’t press though, which you are thankful for.

“(Y/N), you’re brilliant. If it wasn’t for Stark or Banner you would easily be the smartest person I’ve ever known.” He soothingly brushes his fingers up and down your arms, luring you to sleep. “Outstandingly stunning. Though if we must talk specifically your body?”

             Steve delays by gently pulling your body onto his. Resuming the touch of his fingers against your arm, you wait for him to continue. The butterflies in your stomach ache as much as your injury pain. Assuming the worst, you’re not sure if you really want to know or not.

“I assume this trip of insecurity is due to your friends being here.” No offensiveness rises within you. You’ve told Steve about this before. “No, you’re not as thin as them. But they’re not as fit as you are. I know you hate your thighs the most, but doll trust me they are mostly hard muscle. Of which I find way more attractive than being super skinny, but unable to effectively fight.”

“I’m sorry-,” you start before Steve cuts you off with a kiss.

“You don’t need to be sorry. I get it, and I love you.” And this time you kiss him.

Tags: @mrs-captain-evans​@crowleys-squirrel​@princess-evans-addict​