Fear crept over you
as you huddled yourself in the abandoned shack you had taken refuge in. You had
been out on a tedious hunt with the boys when you lost track of time and gazed
into the horizon to see the sun was nearly down. You didn’t have the opportunity to say
anything as you bolted for the nearest place to hide. You didn’t want them to
know your dark secret. You didn’t even entrust you boyfriend, Gladio, to the
crucial detail as to why you refused to stick around after dark.
A/N: so I spent like two and a half hours trying to draw Sebastian Stan and it doesn’t look anything like him. Hahaha But I really like how this turned out, it kind of got a little violent though! I hope you like it!
Prompt: Hello. yes. may I request a Steve Rogers oneshot where the reader is also an avenger and one of the most powerful. but she is having nightmares (more like memories) about the times she was trained and shit to make her the powerful agent she is now. and steve does his best to remind her past is in the past :)) thanks in advance
“Hey,” Steve called, stepping into the training room. A soft smile rested on his lips as he watched you run. At first he was curious as to why you didn’t answer, but he soon noticed the earbud cord dangling from your ears. Your face was set in concentration as you stared ahead. Sweat pooled on your forehead as you gulped for air. Steve walked around to see how long you’d been running. You were born with superhuman endurance, strength and agility, which wasn’t a secret to the team, but it still surprised everyone to see how long you could exercise for. “Damn, girl, you’ve been down here for an hour and a half just running,” he muttered to himself.
You noticed movement in the corner of your eye and jumped off the treadmill. You landed on the pull-up bar a few feet away, crouched and ready to attack. Pausing the music and taking out the earbuds, you found Steve chuckling next to the treadmill. A smile lifted your lips as you jumped down from the bar. “Jesus, Rogers, give some warning, okay?” You walked closer to him, laughing as you wiped your forehead free of sweat. You and Steve were the closest on the team and usually did everything together, so it wasn’t a surprise to see him preparing to train.
“Want to spar?” A challenging tone coated his voice as he covered his knuckles with tape. He smirked, raising an eyebrow. “Or are you too scared you’d lose?”
You scoffed, taping your knuckles. “In your dreams, Cap.”
The two of you got situated on the mat, circling each other. You stretched your arms and you neck, taking a step closer to him. Lifting your arms up in a fighting stance, you quirked an eyebrow in a challenging way. Steve was smart, but when it came to fighting you, he would try anything to get you pinned. He charged forward and was about to hit you when you flipped over his head, punched his back and kicked his legs out from underneath him. You quickly pinned him, a smirk on your face. On top of your powers, you had mastered almost every fighting style and could predict which attack most people would use.
“Damn,” he sighed, still pinned underneath you. He tapped your legs, gently pushing you off. You stood, helping him up. “I thought I had you that time.”
You laughed, shaking your head as you removed the tape. “You’re so predictable, Steve, I can easily guess which move your going to do.”
Steve groaned, stretching his neck. He removed his tape, shaking his head. “Who trained you, again?”
“I’m afraid that’s classified information,” you spoke, jokingly. Despite your tone, it was a secret who had trained you. No one knew how you were such a good fighter, but you showed up, dragged by Nick Fury, himself, and was suddenly a part of the team. Natasha knew you weren’t from the Red Room, the Twins had never heard of you at HYDRA during the experiments. You were a mystery.
“You won’t tell me? I thought I was your best friend!”
You chuckled, picking up your bag. You patted his shoulder as you walked out of the room. Easily climbing the stairs, you checked the time. It was late in the night and everyone had already gone to bed. You didn’t have an issue with the silence, you felt comforted in the quiet darkness.
After showering and changing into your pjs, you climbed into your bed. Within seconds, your fatigued body had shut down and you were asleep.
“Again,” your father snapped, standing on the balcony overlooking the training room. “Do it again.”
You sighed, even with your enhanced endurance, you were tired. “Father,” you breathed, wiping the sweat. “I need a break.”
Your dad nodded at the butler, coldly. Within seconds, the training room was filled with men a lot bigger than you. “You get your break after these men are dead.”
“Frank,” your mother spoke, worriedly. “You’ll kill her!”
“Good, we don’t need another weak one,” he spat, glaring at you.
You took a deep breath, preparing yourself to fight off the men. After the men were knocked on conscious, you looked up at your dad, expectantly. “Can I have a break now?”
The coldness in his voice sent shivers down your spine. You couldn’t kill these men, they had families, they had lives. Tears filled your eyes as you shook your head. “Father, I can’t kill them!”
Your dad was in front of you in an instant, anger filled his cold blue eyes. “If you don’t kill them, I’ll kill you. I’ll starve you to death.” You took a deep breath, prepared to defy him, knowing your mother wouldn’t allow him to starve you. A gun was pressed to your stomach. “Either that, or I’ll shoot you.”
Steve stood in the training room, prepared to master a new fighting style. You’d trained him in it, teaching him the importance of it. He was sweaty and breathless, but determined to master it.
“Mister Rogers,” FRIDAY called, knowing he was the only one awake.
“Yes, FRIDAY,” Steve called, breathlessly.
“It appears Miss Y/L/N is in distress. Her brain activity signifies a nightmare.”
Steve took a deep breath, undoing the tape. He nodded, growing sad. You had nightmares quite often, but never talked about it. By now, the team knew to get Steve when you had one. He started walking up the stairs, quickly. “Thanks, FRIDAY.”
You cried to yourself as guilt filled your bones. Your hands were stained with the deaths of the men your dad had threatened you to kill. You sat in the middle of the room, surrounded by cold, lifeless bodies. A hand rested on your shoulder, causing you to cry harder. You knew it was your dad.
“You did good, kid, soon you’ll be able to kill more than just a few. You’ll be able to take out the King and we will rule.” Your dad roughly picked you up and marched you towards the fighting mat. “This country will be better off with us in charge.”
“This country will be better off with you dead,” you shouted, tears spilling down your cheeks. “You’re ruthless and cold, you do nothing but kill anyone who opposes you! It’s cruel!” You wobbled, anger taking over your mind.
Your father’s fist connected with your cheek and his foot hit your stomach. You were on the ground, pain filling your brain. Your dad had super strength and could easily kill you. He continued beating you as tears and blood spilled around you.
Steve opened the door of your room, preparing himself for the sight of you. His heart broke as he noticed the tear stains on your cheeks. The moon seeped into the room as you moved around the bed, slowly, but aggressively. He walked closer to the bed, resting his hands on your face. “Y/N, wake up.”
You took a deep breath, preparing yourself for what you were going to do. In between your father’s unorganized kicks and punches, you grab his foot and twist your body. He’s on the ground, two feet away from you, pissed. You move fast, knowing he could easily kill you if you don’t. Nerves fill your chest as you grow anxious. You’re on top of your dad, seconds later. You throw a few punches as blood trips from your nose onto his forehead. Tears pour from your eyes as your dad struggles underneath your weight. Your hands grab his face as you look away. “I’m sorry, daddy,” you whisper as you snap his neck.
You scurry away from his dead body, sobbing uncontrollably. You’re on your hands and knees as you heave sobs. Even though your dad was cold and cruel, parts of him were still good to you and you still loved him. Your mother walked into the room, seconds later, looking for you. Her scream echoes around the room as she sees the bloody scene. Your nose was dripping blood as your face was slowly swelling.
“You killed him!” Her face was filled with horror as guilt entered your system. “You monster! He was your father!”
You cried harder as you spit the blood that pooled in your mouth. “He was going to kill me,” you rasp as she runs to your dad. She starts to drag him out of the room, no longer listening to you. “He was going to kill me,” you wailed into the darkness.
“He was going to kill me,” you cried.
Steve continued shaking you, trying, unsuccessfully to shake this nightmare out of your system. “It’s not real, it’s not real!”
You shot awake, sitting up in bed. Tears and sweat pooled around your face as you shove the blankets off of you. You bury your face in your hands as guilt overflows your veins. Your sobs echo around the empty room. “He was going to kill me,” you murmur to yourself. “I’m sorry.”
Steve looked at you, worried. You’d never woken up from a nightmare this disoriented or effected. He sat on the bed, wrapping his arms around you. At first, you pushed him away, softly crying, but finally you gave up and allowed the super soldier to pull you onto his lap. You softly cried into his neck, still trying to shake off the guilt you felt. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“My dad,” you spoke, sniffling, slightly. You took a deep breath and softly traced the outline of Steve’s muscles. You noticed that he was sweaty and wore his workout clothes.
“What?” His fingers gently drew designs on your arms as he slowly rocked you back and forth.
“You asked who trained me. My dad did. He pushed and pushed and pushed me. He was cold and cruel and genetically engineered my moms blood when she was first pregnant. We lived on a small island off the cost of America that held a monarchy. My father tried and tried for my mom to have a baby with strength. Finally, after trying the tests on himself, I was born.” You paused, shrugging, slightly. You sniffled again, playing with the fabric of Steve’s shirt. “He trained me, mercilessly so I could overthrow the king and make him the rightful leader. He forced me to kill innocent men just for training. He held a gun to me and said he’d shoot me if I didn’t kill them.”
You stayed silent for a while, trying to catch your breath and slow your heart rate. Steve stayed quiet, knowing it was hard for you to share this, but also knew that you needed to in order to heal. “Then what happened?”
“H-he came into the room I was in, I was so guilty, Steve, I was so guilty. He told me I had to kill the King, when I disobeyed him, he started beating me…so, so I killed him.” You started sobbing, again, burying your head in his chest. “What kind of monster kills their dad? I snapped his neck, Steve. I felt him die.”
Steve started rocking you again, holding you tighter. He stroked your hair as he calmed you down. “You did what you had to do. He would’ve killed you.”
“My mom called me a monster. She called the guards and the police. I ran out of our house with nothing, but my exercise clothes and started swimming to the U.S. We didn’t live to far from Hawaii. When I made it there, I contacted SHEILD and after months of begging, Fury finally scheduled a meeting.” You continued crying, softly.
Steve moved so his back rested against the headboard. Your head rested in the crook of his neck as his arms held you against him. He slowly rubbed your back. “The past is in the past, Y/N. I know you feel guilty, but he wasn’t a good man. He was going to kill people and you saved them. You aren’t a monster, you’re a hero. Trust me, you’ve saved so many lives. It doesn’t matter what kind of past you have, what matters is that you’re a good person and you do good things. Don’t beat yourself up.”
You sighed, trying to steady your breathing. “I don’t regret leaving, I needed to get out of there, but I wish he didn’t push me to kill. It’s hard to be a hero when my guilt keeps holding a little rain cloud over my head.” You took a deep breath, snuggling into Steve. “If you tell anyone about this, Steve, I’ll rip your balls off.”
Steve laughed, happy to hear your old self start to come back. He kissed your head as he soothingly rubbed your back. “I promise, I won’t. Are you okay? Do you want me to leave?”
You gripped the fabric of his shirt and held him against you. “No, stay here. I-I don’t want to be alone.”
Steve nodded. “Okay, okay.” He pulled the covers back and maneuvered the two of you under them. You looked up at him, a soft smile on your lips. “What?” He asked after staring back at you for a while.
“Thank you.” You leaned forward and brushed your lips against his, hesitantly. Steve inhaled, quickly. You started to pull away, but his lips captured yours. His hand tangled itself in your hair as yours steadied yourself on his chest. When you pulled away, you took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, your lips just look really soft. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
Steve kissed you, gently, as a response. You rested your forehead against his lips. He took a deep breath, kissing your forehead again. “I have been waiting to kiss you for a long time.”
terribly slowly, every minute seemed to be a century. You forgot how sun looked
like, your captors forbade you uncover the curtains, threatening lack of food.
You’ve been stubborn, until one of them gave you a black eye.
least they keep their word.” you thought sarcastically, lying on the soft
bed and stroking the black satin sheets. The air was musty but covered with
cherry freshener, thin layer of dust appeared on the old furniture. A few days
turned into a week, week into two weeks. You were like canary in the cage,
slowly losing voice. You haven’t decided which side you want to be, good or
bad, all day sleeping or crying, depended on the mood. But loneliness and
eternal silence weren’t the worst.
Every night, every day. Freezing the blood in the veins, sobbing, begging for
death, cries … They tortured you, killing young women behind your wall.
Usually, they did it in the houses of victims but then decided to have fun with
your psyche. Everything became a blurry picture, and you didn’t know what was
real and what dream.