Chris Evans's Side Profile Is The Most Beautiful Thing In Existence!

Chris Evans's side profile is the most beautiful thing in existence!

like akskaskksksk

I love his lil freckles omgjfd

stevie baby

AJJJJJJJJJDHHASHKHKSAUHDKSUHDKASH

<3

dead

SO BEAUTIFUL 

MY PRECIOUS BOY

YESSSSSSSSS

I’m still not over this

sighs

cries! also, THIS HAIR

YES DADDY….

THEM LIPSSS

OK, STAB ME PLS

MY MANS OMDFKDNJD

SO PRETTY

chris evans w/ text posts about him

Why does Chris Evans always grab his left boob when he laughs?

Hello, anon, and thank you for the question.

This topic has been studied by researchers for years. There are three prevailing theories that I will relay to you now.

1. It keeps him on the ground.

You may notice in the gif above that Chris’ leg starts to rise as he laughs, possibly a precursor to his entire body undergoing a sort of lift off due to his joy. Chris then employs his upper body strength to force himself to obey the laws of gravity.

2. To check on his physique.

As you may be aware, anon, it takes a lot of hard work to maintain a superhero body. Chris is concerned that in the time he has spent sitting down, sans working out or eating, he has lost muscle mass. Understandably, he feels the need to make sure that he is still a specimen.

3. Object permanence.

Object permanence is a term applied to the understanding that an object still exists even when you cannot see it. Chris closes his eyes when he laughs, making him unable to see that he has not disappeared. By grabbing his left boob, Chris knows that he has not somehow ceased to exist.

I hope this helps.

मैं: तुम दुनिया को क्यों नष्ट कर रहे हो।

एलियन: इसका कारण यह है कि कुछ लोग सोचते हैं कि केवल अंग्रेज़ी बोलना ही अनिवार्य है।

मैं: हाँ मैं समझ सकती हूं।

and

میں: تم دنیا کو کیوں تباہ کر رہے ہو۔

ایلین: کیوک لوگ سوچتے ہیں کہ اُنھیں سرف انگریزی بولنے کی ضرورت ہے۔

میں: یہ بھی تھیک ہے میں سمجھ سکتی ہوں۔

me: why are you destroying earth!!!

aliens: because theres people who think that english is the only language they need to speak

me: thats fair i understand

“probably a highlight of my career.”

Omg this was amazing! I really loved it. The angst, the fluff, all of it in the right amount. And the bar scene, I was melting.

Thank you for writing! 💙

for one of your kisses (i'd risk it all)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Fem!Recruit!Reader

Word Count: 8.3K

Summary:

“Hey, what’s–” The second he cleared the corner, you grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him against you, stepping behind another couple and backing up against the wall. His hands landed against the concrete on either side of your face.

“What’re you–”

“We’ve been made,” you whispered. He blanched, but you slid a hand around the back of his neck and gently pulled his face down to yours. “Trust me,” you assured, and you kissed him.

Warnings: 18+, language, mild sexual innuendo, smooching (will I ever stop calling it that?), very graphic violence and torture, non-con touching, mentions of Hydra's gross misogyny, Rumlow is a disgusting POS, whump, angst, fluff

Minors–this is not for you. You are responsible for your own media consumption. Please be discerning. Do not interact.

A/N: Somehow I am still writing celebration drabbles (and this one is a one-shot?), but I'm excited to be trying a new character! Thank you for the request, my dear @veraocruel. I loved going back to my hurt/comfort roots with this piece. And an extra thank you to my incredible beta-readers, @mareli-carter and @fragile-heartt (as always, all mistakes are my own). Listen to "Vicio" by Selena Gomez here.

“Not bad.”

You huffed. “Not bad?” You stared into guarded blue eyes, unable to resist a small smirk as your thighs pressed into Steve’s hips, your knees on his biceps, pinning him to the mat. You pressed your forearm more firmly against his throat. “That’s it?”

“Well,” he grunted, shifting his weight slightly, “I can do plenty with just my hands.” He froze, a flush spreading across his cheeks, and you grinned. “That’s not what I… forget it.”

You yelped as his left hand gripped your ankle, and he leveraged his entire arm against your shin, easily pushing you off of him and onto your back. He rolled with you, his knees landing on either side of your hips. He pinned your hands above your head with one of his own.

“So, yeah,” he grinned, his face inches from yours. “Not bad.”

You squirmed briefly before muttering, “Not all of us are super soldiers.”

He chuckled, giving one more squeeze to your wrists before releasing them and sitting back, then rising to his feet.

A large hand was extended to you, and you took it, letting him haul you to your feet in front of him. Once you’d settled, he dropped your hand, calling back over his shoulder as he made his way to the bench along the wall.

“Not that I doubted Maria, but you’ve fallen right in. I’m sure we can find a good placement for you.” He tossed a water bottle to you. You caught it, following him.

“Maybe I should’ve asked before, but… seems like it's a bit above your pay grade to be screening recruits, Cap,” you offered before taking a sip. “You didn’t have anything better to do for the last three weeks?”

He sighed, sitting heavily on the bench. “Well”-- he scrubbed a hand down his face – “when your entire organization collapses as a front for Hydra, you tend to be a bit more particular about who you work with.”

You winced, shifting on the balls of your feet. “Right.”

“But at this point I think we can consider you cleared.” He sat back, tossing the water bottle mindlessly between his hands. “We have your background check and service report from Maria, erm, Agent Hill. Nat had very high praise for your marksmanship. Simmons cleared you healthwise – with her recommendation, you may end up working in her lab. And now you’re through with hand-to-hand combat.” He nodded past you to the mat. “I think I can sign off as ‘good enough’ on that.”

You rolled your eyes as he chuckled. “Checked all the boxes, then?”

“Checked all the boxes.” He took another sip of his water. “If you like, I can come by and help you pack up your stuff. We can get you moved from holdings into the cleared recruit lodging.”

You fidgeted with the lid in your hand, rolling it across your fingers. “I don’t want to take up more of your time.”

He stretched, and you couldn’t help the quick flick of your gaze to the skin exposed on his taut stomach. Stupid.

“It’s no trouble. Your new room is right across from mine. Don’t want you to have to spend any more time in that glorified cell than you have to.”

You smiled. “It’s not so bad.”

“I wish I could say the food’s better once you’re cleared, but I’d hate to lie to you.” He took another sip. “Can I ask you something?”

You shifted on your feet. “What,” you teased, “the mountains of paperwork didn’t tell you everything?”

“No, they told me plenty.” He sat forward. “But they told me the what and the how. I want to know the why.”

“The why?”

“Why SHIELD? And why did you stay?” he pressed. “Even if you didn’t want to go Hydra, you didn’t have to keep fighting.”

You fidgeted, nails scratching absently at the back of your neck. “I didn’t…” You cleared your throat. “I didn’t pick it because it was SHIELD.”

Steve leaned back against the wall behind him, chin inclined, face unreadable.

“I picked it because of what it was doing. Who it was fighting for. SHIELD was taking care of the people who couldn’t take care of themselves. And that’s–” You swallowed, trying to push past the dryness of your throat. “That’s what I was following. So I followed it here.”

There was a new softness to Steve’s eyes as he looked at you, nodding slowly. “Okay.” He stood and brushed past you on his way to the double doors.

You turned to follow him nervously. “Okay?”

“Let’s go get your stuff,” he said without looking back.

Shit.

.....

“Captain Rogers!”

Steve stopped short of turning the corner that would take him to his office. He hesitated a moment, fighting the uncontrollable smile that seemed to take over his face every time he heard the new recruit’s voice.

With little success, he turned to face her as she barrelled down the hall towards him. “I think we’re probably on a first-name basis now, aren’t we? Or should I keep calling you Recruit?”

She stopped just in front of him, and his brow furrowed when he finally saw the panic etched on her face. He glanced down to find her assignment slip in her hand. “Something wrong?”

“I’m not… If the recommendation from Dr. Simmons wasn’t sufficient, I’d be glad to test with Dr. Banner–”

“Not sufficient? What do you mean?”

“Well, I wasn’t placed in the lab, and I wanted to make sure that–”

“I know.”

She froze, then swallowed hard. “You know? Why wasn’t I–”

“I recommended you to my squadron.” He chewed on his lip. Had he overstepped? She seemed upset by his decision.

She scratched at the back of her neck and shifted nervously. “I’m sure there are others more qualified for that. People with more experience.”

Steve nodded, crossing his arms. “Maybe, but I requested you.”

She seemed to shrink into herself, one arm wrapped across her waist. Steve tried to drop his shoulders a bit, to relax the default Captain Intimidation posture etched into his spine.

“I think that’s a mistake,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I think there are other people who would be–”

“Recruit,” he said, trying and perhaps failing to toe the line between gentleness in his tone and firmness in his words, “I need people who know why they’re here.” He winced as her eyes fell, and he placed a cautious hand on her shoulder. “You’re more than capable, and you have what I think is the right motivation, which is more than I can say for too many people here. You–people like you–are who I want fighting alongside me.”

When she didn’t look up, he retracted his hand, fingers tensing into a fist before finding their place at his side.

Steve forced himself upright, aiming for somewhere near professionalism. “We’ll take the first one as a trial run. It’s just intel gathering. A bar we’ve isolated as a regular hub for Hydra agents. No combat.” He took a breath. “We’ll reassess from there.”

“Copy, sir,” she said, still not meeting his eye, and he flinched. He wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to that.

…..

“You’d think they’d come up with a better disguise for you than a baseball cap and sunglasses.”

Steve snorted into his drink. “You’d be surprised what people won’t see when they aren’t looking for it.”

You gave your club soda a mildly irritated flick. “Yeah? And are they not looking for the guy wearing sunglasses inside the dark bar?”

He shrugged, glancing discreetly to the groups on either side of you before taking them off and tucking them in the inside pocket of his jacket. “Fair point.”

You sat back against the cracking leather of the rounded booth, eyes flicking nervously from table to table. Nothing yet. The bass line of the music blasting from the speakers hummed in your chest.

You felt Steve’s gaze on you before he spoke.

“You okay?”

You looked at him in surprise.

“Yeah, I…” You sighed. “I’m sorry that I wasn’t enthusiastic about–”

“No need for apologies,” he said gently. “I understand the feeling of being put somewhere you don’t feel equipped to be.”

You nodded slowly.

“You’re gonna be fine,” he promised. “I wouldn’t have put you here if I didn’t think you could handle it.”

“Right,” you managed. Your brow furrowed. “I just… this is…”

“Not exactly what you imagined?”

You twiddled the straw against the edge of the glass, knocking the rather sad-looking wedge of lime underneath the ice. “Not exactly,” you admitted, watching it sink to the bottom of the glass.

“They’re not all like this. Plenty of ‘em are like the combat and retrieval ops you’re used to. But with everything having to be so… underground…” He sighed. “We’ve gotta choose our battles more carefully.”

You nodded, taking a sip of your drink. You wrinkled your nose as the half-flat soda fizzed on your tongue.

He grinned, raising his glass in a mock salute. “I can’t get drunk, but at least I can drink something half decent at these lousy dives.”

You laughed. “And yet you get a Bee’s Knees? Geez, Cap, I know you’re old, but c’mon now.” You sipped again and immediately regretted it.

He grinned at your disgust, but there was a little bit of melancholy in his eyes. “What can I say? I’m sentimental.”

You leaned forward, propping your elbows on the table and crossing your arms. “Oh?”

Steve took another sip and swirled the glass, his gaze on the spinning ice cube. “‘S what Buck and I always used to get,” he said softly, and you pursed your lips.

“Sergeant Barnes?” you asked softly, and he nodded, still not looking at you.

“Don’t think he’d remember it.” He laughed bitterly. “He barely remembers me now. Just enough not to kill me, I guess.”

You sat silently as grief played across Steve’s eyes, his recent fight with the Winter Soldier a fresh wound.

“They’re better now ‘an they used to be,” he said finally, meeting your gaze with a weak smile. “They thin the honey out with water so it mixes. Used to be they just dumped the honey in straight so it’d hide how shitty the gin was, and it turned into a block of sugar at the bottom of the glass.”

He laughed a little, his eyes crinkling at the corners, and you were struck by how young he looked like that.

“We liked ‘em ‘cause you could get a piece a’candy with the price a’your drink.” He took another sip, eyes flicking to the bar counter. “Probably good that this one’s mixed better. Lookin’ at this place, I’m thinkin’ the gin is nothing I want to be tasting.”

You smiled gently, raising your glass a few inches. “To Sergeant Barnes, wherever he is.” You watched carefully as Steve looked sharply at you, searching your gaze.

After a moment, he pressed his lips together and lifted his glass to clink against yours.

“I’m sorry, Steve.” Don’t.

His brow furrowed. “For what?” Shut up shut up shut up.

“For…” Shit. “For everything with Bucky… and for–”

“Hold on,” he whispered suddenly, his gaze finding something over your shoulder.

You froze. “How many?”

“Two.” More. Always more.

“Can you make out what they’re saying?”

He fixed his eyes on you, an attempt at masking his concentration. A quick glance to the space between you, and you nodded. He slid along the seat until his denim-clad thigh brushed against yours. You kept your eyes on his as you lifted his arm and wrapped it around your shoulders, drawing him closer.

You could hear his heartbeat, so there was no doubt he could hear yours. You tried to steady your breathing as much as possible, but between the super soldier’s face inches from your own and Hydra agents at a table behind you, you were struggling to temper your anxiety.

“Relax,” he said evenly.

“I’m try–”

“No, sorry, I’m–” He shook his head, then flicked it towards what you assumed were the pair of operatives. “Relax,” he repeated, his voice low and monotone as he parroted one of them. “We’ll have him back soon.” He paused. “You’re awfully optimistic,” he retorted in a slightly higher register, and your nose scrunched as you fought a giggle at his differentiation between the two.

Steve rolled his eyes, bumping his forehead gently against yours as he continued in a low tone. “Either that” – he cleared his throat – “erm, person, will deliver, or we’ll go to Plan B. He’s gotta know something.”

You grinned in spite of yourself. “He didn’t say ‘person,’ did he?”

“Nope.” He raised his pitch again, and your grin widened. He flicked your nose softly, but you could see him fighting to maintain a stern expression as he continued. “What the hell is Whitehall doing messing around with this? He’s got his new projects. Why is he wasting his time with Pierce’s– What the hell does it matter?” The lower tone again. “Whitehall’s got plenty of scary shit at his disposal. If you want to question him, be my guest, but if he wants to fuck around with the Winter So–”

Steve’s breath caught in his throat, and his grip tightened around his glass enough that tiny webs of cracks began to form. You grabbed his wrist, squeezing gently. “Steve,” you whispered, trying not to cower at the intensity in his eyes.

Slowly, his hand relaxed and his gaze softened. He cleared his throat. “One of them went to the bar to order.”

“I think we have enough for now,” you said gently. “I can go plant a tracker on one of them and we can go.”

“Why you?”

You squeezed his wrist again and offered a soft smile. “I’m a little less conspicuous, don’t you think?”

He nodded absently, and you slowly extricated yourself, retrieving a small tracker from the lining of your sleeve and positioning it on your fingertip. “I’ll head to the back exit, by the bathrooms, and wait for you there, okay? Wait ‘til I’ve cleared to get up.”

Steve shook his head and seemed to come back to himself a bit. “Be careful.”

You nodded and grabbed your glass with the same hand as the tracker, and your confident demeanor dropped the second you turned towards the counter. What the fuck are you doing?

You clenched your free hand, fingernails digging into the skin of your palm. Dropping your head, you shuffled through the crowds towards the bar.

You slipped behind the Hydra agent waiting there, staying out of his line of sight as you reached forward to set your glass on the counter. As you withdrew your hand, you brushed your fingers along his sleeve, allowing the tracker to latch on to the fabric.

You turned quickly, not waiting to see if he noticed your presence, and made your way past your and Steve’s booth to the crowded bathroom hallway.

As you walked past him, you caught a glimpse of another pair two tables away. As one of them raised his glass to his lips, his sleeve slipped down, revealing a familiar emblem stamped into his skin. More. Always more. Fuck.

You slipped into the hallway, mingling with the less-than-discreet couples and praying to every god you could think of that Steve would be able to make his way past them unnoticed. You could just see him past the backs of their heads as he pulled a few bills from his wallet and dropped them on the table next to his empty glass.

Even from afar, his silhouette was imposing when he stood.

And they noticed.

You saw them notice. Maybe not enough that they were certain, but their eyes flicked to him a few too many times as he meandered casually between the tables to meet you.

Panic flooded your veins. The exit was too far down the hallway for the two of you to clear it once he made it to you, and there was no way you could pull him into the bathroom without the couples around you seeing. Fuck fuck fuck.

He was oblivious as he cleared their table, and after a shared look they stood up from their seats.

You could just–

“Hey, what’s–” The second he cleared the corner, you grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him against you, stepping behind another couple and backing up against the wall. His hands landed against the concrete on either side of your face.

“What’re you–”

“We’ve been made,” you whispered. He blanched, but you slid a hand around the back of his neck and gently pulled his face down to yours. “Trust me,” you assured, and you kissed him.

Slow at first. Gentle. Just keep him safe. Your hands found the loops of his pants, and you pulled him in to close the gap between you. You then brought your hands up to the sides of his face, shielding him fully.

And then his tongue slipped across your lower lip, and for a second you forgot. You forgot as his hands slid from next to your face, one gently gripping your hip and the other cupping the side of your face. You forgot as his forehead rested against yours. You forgot as he kissed you like it was real. You forgot it wasn’t.

Fuck.

You inhaled sharply, and reality poured in. Steve pulled away slightly, and you could see the pair of Hydra agents settled back at their table. “Clear,” you breathed.

“Did Romanoff teach you that?” he asked, a dazed look on his face. You hated that you wanted to kiss it away.

“Let’s go,” you muttered, ducking under his arm and pushing past a couple towards the exit.

Stupid stupid stupid.

…..

Steve tapped hesitantly at the door frame, peeking through the open doorway.

“Can we talk?”

He felt the slightest bit of relief when she nodded, and he stepped into her room.

“You’re avoiding me.” Shit. “I mean… that came out wrong.”

She chuckled. “How was it meant to come out?”

“Less… blunt?” He shifted his weight, trying and failing to filter his thoughts. “Look, I don’t know how to do this. I’m your captain, but also I think we’re friends, and I escalated that kiss, and I would love to take you out on a date, but I don’t want you to feel obligated or uncomfortable, and I feel like either way we should talk about it, and I–”

“Steve.”

He swallowed, his hands stilling at his sides.

“You’re really sweet to be worried, but I can be professional about this. It was just a kiss,” she said stiffly, and Steve’s heart sank.

“I’m sorry.”

“There’s no need. I kissed you. It was to keep you safe. And we are friends. This doesn’t change that. I just…” She scratched at the back of her neck. “I don’t think us going out is a good idea.”

Steve nodded, turning to leave.

“I look forward to the next one, Captain Rogers,” she offered softly.

The title sat heavy in his stomach.

…..

The line picked up after two rings. “Hello?”

“Steve? It’s me.”

You could hear the panic overtake his voice. “What’s wrong? What happened? Are you–”

“Nothing! Nothing. I’ll be back tonight,” you assured him. “Super smooth. They’ve cleared out of the location completely, just like we thought.”

“Oh.” He paused, and when he spoke again his voice was stiffer. “What can I do for you, then?”

“I wanted to…” You trailed off, trying to swallow down your nerves. “I wanted to see if I could still change my mind.”

“What?”

“I was just…” You fumbled for words, any words. “I was nervous about dating someone who I’d be going on missions with, and I didn’t want to… I completely understand if you’re not interested anymore. But I just… I was being stupid.”

The silence on the other end of the line was deafening. You fought the urge to scratch at your neck, fingers digging into the sides of the phone.

“Steve?” you asked.

“How’s tomorrow night?”

…..

She looked nervous.

To be fair, he was nervous too. His fingers tapped on the table next to the silverware, and he was having trouble getting through whatever pasta dish he’d picked off the top of the list.

When she pushed a piece of potato across her plate for what seemed like the eighth time, he finally spoke up.

“This is weird.”

She smiled ruefully. “That’s probably my fault.”

He sat back in his chair. “Well, I don’t know. I put pressure on you.”

“I made it difficult though.”

“I mean you’re allowed to say no–”

“But I didn’t want to,” she said, and it was the most confident she’d sounded the whole night.

Steve leaned forward again and reached hesitantly across the table, taking her hand in his. “Then why did you?”

She tensed. “I told you, I was just nervous about dating someone I’m going–”

“--on missions with,” he finished. “You said that, but that hasn’t changed. So either something changed your mind, or there was some other reason you said no?”

Her face was tight, her lips pressed together like she was trying to stop herself from speaking. She squeezed his hand gently.

“Steve,” she started, and he thought he saw a flash of resolve cross her face. “I need to–”

And then she flinched, and she sat back, dropping his hand.

She scratched at the back of her neck nervously and forced a smile. “I need to use the restroom. When I’m back let’s just… start over?”

He managed a smile. “Sounds good.”

His head dropped into his hands before she’d even rounded the corner, and he scrubbed them roughly down his face.

He’d had his doubts about this after such a rough start, and he didn’t want to jeopardize the friendship any more than he already had.

That damn kiss.

It had startled him at first. He had only seen flickers of that confidence in her, and yet there she was, pulling him in by the belt loops, caging his body around hers, her hands resting gently on his face.

And he wanted more. He’d wanted more before that.

He’d wanted more when she’d teased him on her first day, when he’d tried to toss her a water bottle and it had launched clear over her head.

He’d wanted more when she’d finally pinned him to the mat and got that smug little look of satisfaction on her face.

He’d wanted more when he asked her why she was here, and she didn't seem to care about the titles or the ranks or the fanfare of it all.

He’d wanted more when his grief had spilled over sitting in that shitty bar and she hadn’t cared.

But he couldn’t be selfish.

Captain America had a responsibility. Captain America couldn’t be distracted. Captain fucking America didn’t need to be scaring his recruits into going out with him.

Hadn’t he learned yet? He didn’t get to be Steve Rogers. He didn’t get to be the guy who took the girl out to dinner and have it be normal.

“This was so fucking stupid,” he groaned under his breath. “Just call it off when she gets back.”

But she didn’t come back.

His pasta grew cold, and the candle on the table dripped wax onto the white cloth, and the pit in his stomach grew large enough it might have swallowed him whole.

She wasn’t the type to just disappear. Right?

He couldn’t wait any longer. He got up from the table and booked it towards the hallway she had disappeared down.

But the second he rounded the corner, he vaguely registered a sharp pinch on the skin of his throat.

Almost immediately, his vision began to darken at the edges, and he swayed on his feet, staggering further down the corridor.

“What–”

“Good to see ya again, Rogers,” a gruff voice called from somewhere to his left. “Especially like this.”

A sharp blow landed on the back of his head, and everything went black.

…..

He started asking for you the moment he woke up.

Asking was putting it nicely. You could hear him demanding to see you from the next room over, could hear the metal chair squeaking as he struggled against the restraints.

“Let me see her, you piece of shit,” he barked. You winced.

Rumlow’s response was muffled, but you could tell he was teasing at Steve, asking if he was sure he really wanted to see you.

You wished you could tell him he didn’t. He didn’t want to see you.

“I swear to god, if you hurt her,” Steve snarled.

“Hurt her?” Rumlow asked. “Rogers, I can assure you, there’s not a mark on her.” He raised his voice: “Isn’t that right?”

Your heart sank clear through your stomach as you let the inevitable happen, and you walked into the interrogation room unaccompanied.

Confusion clearly written across his face, Steve strained against the cuffs locking him to the chair.

“Well, I suppose that’s not quite true,” Rumlow drawled. “There is one mark on her.”

You winced as he grabbed your arm harshly and shoved your neckline down.

You swallowed down your disgust at the ugly black brand on your shoulder.

Instead you focused on the copper drain at your feet, steeling yourself for the hatred you knew was coming.

“Aww, look,” Rumlow crooned. “He’s all heartbroken over it.” His calloused hand gripped roughly at your jaw, forcing you to look up and finally meet Steve’s eyes.

Disgust, you could have handled. Hatred. Fury.

But he looked broken.

The hurt in his eyes burned in your chest, like your lungs were going up in flames.

Pure betrayal.

“I’m sorry,” was all you could manage, and his eyes hardened.

“Oh, me too, Cap,” Rumlow mocked. “So sorry we had to bring you in at all. But the bitch couldn’t get the job done, so we had to try something else. Whitehall’s getting impatient. So now,” he growled as he turned your head to face him, “you’re gonna watch while I finish the job.”

You stumbled back when he released you and leaned heavily against the wall. Steve’s eyes didn’t leave yours, ice freezing you in his stare.

“Y’see, Rogers,” Rumlow droned as he circled Steve like a vulture, “all of this, everything I’m about to do to you… it’s her fault, really. If she had gotten Barnes’ location out of you like she was supposed to, you’d have been none the wiser. You could’ve kept your puppy dog eyes for her… hell, you probably coulda fucked her a few times, and you two could’ve lived happily ever after until she had a tragic accident on one of your little missions. Nobody gets hurt.” He paused. “Well,” he sneered, “except her.”

Steve’s mouth tightened at the mention of Bucky, and somehow your heart sank further.

“But, no,” he continued. “She couldn’t do it. Took forever to even bring ‘im up. Blew a perfectly good opportunity to grab you because she couldn’t resist a little action at the bar. And then she almost blew it again too. Had to be convinced to take you up on your little offer.”

You shuddered, remembering the feel of Rumlow’s hand around your throat as you called Steve back, his other hand casually holding a small tablet that could end your life.

“But on the plus side…” He came to a stop in front of Steve. “Now I get to have a little fun.”

Rumlow swung hard, and a crack sounded as his fist landed across Steve’s nose, eliciting a low groan. Blood poured heavily down his face, soaking into the button-down he’d worn for your date.

Tears brimmed in your eyes, and your hands scrabbled at the tiles on the walls, searching for something to hold onto. Something to stop you from running to him.

“Where is he?”

Steve was silent, his gaze still on you.

Another blow, this one lower on his face, and his lip split. His teeth bared as he spit blood at Rumlow’s feet, and their reddish tint made you sick to your stomach.

Rumlow shook out his fist. “C’mon, Rogers, where is he?”

Silence.

“Fine,” he huffed. “I was trying to be nice, but we can get a little more creative.”

He pulled a knife from his belt and began tracing it down the center of Steve’s shirt, popping the buttons off one by one. He paused about halfway down, turning to face you.

“Did you want to do this?” he teased. You looked away.

“Guess not,” he shrugged, turning back to face his prey. “Sorry, Cap. She’s lost interest.”

He slid the knife the rest of the way down the shirt, then used the tip to push it open, exposing Steve’s chest and stomach.

“She’s kind of a tease, honestly. I’ll spare you that, fuck it out of her for ya.”

Steve inhaled sharply as the point of the blade found its home on his sternum and carved its way down the center of his torso. You slapped a hand across your mouth to stifle a sob.

“Nothing?” Rumlow growled, dropping the knife to the ground. “Jesus, you’re a glutton for punishment, aren’t you?”

He glanced around the room, finally landing on a lever along the wall. “Sweetheart, do me a favor and uncuff the Captain’s hands from the chair arms so we can hook them together.”

When you didn’t move, a sickly smile spread across his face. “Y’know, that tablet is next door… I could always cuff you to him and–” You stood up instantly. “That’s what I thought.”

You couldn’t look at Steve as you walked to him, as you cuffed his hands together, as you hooked the cuffs to the chain Rumlow lowered from the ceiling.

You couldn’t look at him as you swiped furtively at the blood on his chest, trying to see whether he was in danger of bleeding out, as you freed his ankles on Rumlow’s instruction.

You couldn’t look at him as Rumlow called for you to back off, and he raised the chain so that Steve was pulled up from the chair until he hung by his wrists, toes barely brushing the ground.

Rumlow selected a leather flog from a table in the corner and shoved the chair out of his way, and you flinched as the metal clanging echoed around you.

His first hit landed with a sharp snapping sound, and for the first time Steve cried out in pain. You finally looked.

Angry red welts raised across his stomach, a new variation to the crimson already painting the skin there.

He had finally stopped looking at you.

You counted, because what else could you do?

After the fourth hit, Rumlow retrieved the knife from the ground and sliced down the back of Steve’s shirt, nicking the skin in his haste. Or maybe it was intentional. Either way, Steve yelped as he did it, and a nauseating grin etched onto his attacker’s face.

After the eleventh hit, Steve’s body began to tremble uncontrollably. Blood pooled at his feet and trickled towards the drain.

After the sixteenth hit, he locked eyes with you again.

When the seventeenth hit landed, he lost consciousness.

…..

Steve woke with a start. He bolted up, and instantly regretted the sudden movement.

A barely stifled cry tore through him as his broken skin stuck to the hard metal bed he’d been laid on.

The chains around his ankles clanked as he managed to sit up.

He couldn’t have been out that long. His wounds had started to heal, but they certainly weren’t that far along.

“Steve?” a small voice called from the corner by the door. His muscles screamed as he swung to face it. He wasn't in any state to put up a fight.

The figure stepped closer, and he felt a breath of relief, followed by a fresh wave of betrayal, when he could make her out.

“What do you want?” he said coldly.

“I came to bring you, umm…” She held out a couple towels, a bottle of antiseptics, and some painkillers.

“The pain pills won’t do anything.”

“Oh. Oh, right, I’m sorry. I can go get you–”

“What do you want?” His voice seemed to cut through her, and she took a step back.

He let her stand there another moment in silence, and then he couldn’t take it anymore. “Y’know it’s funny, because I was so worried I was doing it all over again. Forgetting my place and forcing the people I cared about into positions they were never meant to be in because I couldn’t just play the part and keep it all separate. But for once,” he laughed bitterly, “for once, I don’t have to worry about that. You were right where you wanted to be. You’re a hell of an actress.”

She stared at her feet.

“I… I can just leave the others for you… I’ll have to take the towels back when you’re done or they’ll know I was here.” She stepped hesitantly towards him, then dumped everything in a split second before bolting back into the corner.

Steve blinked. “Did you think I was gonna hit you?”

“No, of course not, I… I don’t want you to get hurt.”

He scoffed, picking up the antiseptic. “A little late for that, isn’t it? Even if you forget the whole torture part, I–”

“Right, no, I mean…” She scratched nervously at the back of her neck. “I just don’t want you in the blast radius.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” he asked tiredly as he poured some of the antiseptic onto one of the towels.

She chewed on the inside of her lip, then slowly turned her back to him and lifted her hair off of her neck.

In the low light, Steve could just barely make out a thin, puckered scar. “They could trigger it whenever they wanted,” she said meekly.

He froze, damp towel in hand. “They put a bomb in your head?”

She crossed her arms in front of her and turned back to face him. “I didn’t want this.”

He sat back, gritting his teeth as he pressed the towel to one of the open wounds on his chest. “Explain, please.” He flicked his head towards the edge of the bed.

“But–”

“They’re not gonna blow me up. They still need something from me.”

She nodded, but positioned herself as far from him as she could while still sitting on the bed.

“I was a real SHIELD agent,” she promised. “I meant what I said. I wanted to take care of people.”

He stifled a groan as the antiseptic dripped down into some of the open lines on his stomach, and she winced, her eyes on her hands in her lap.

“When Pierce took over, he didn’t just bring in more Hydra or promote the ones who were already there,” she said slowly. “He wanted to own as many of the top agents as he could. Some of them turned. Some of them he killed off. And some of them…” She pushed firmly on the scar on her neck.

“How many?”

“I don’t know. But there aren’t as many as there used to be,” she said weakly. “We’re expendable. It’s a game to them. And most of the ones who go… they wait until they’ve gone home, gone to see friends or family or…” She sighed heavily. “Why take out just one, right?”

Steve leaned forward, wincing as he twisted to reach the gashes on his back.

“Can I help?” she asked quietly.

He shrugged after a moment and handed her the bloodstained towel. She knelt behind him and began dabbing at the wounds that had begun to close. Her hands were cold against his heated skin.

“So you were assigned to me?” he asked through gritted teeth.

“To get you to trust me. And to find out where Sergeant Barnes is.”

“I can’t believe–”

“I didn’t want to, I swear,” she promised, her voice raising slightly. “I wanted to just let them kill me, but my family… and they would’ve just got another girl to do it. And,” she added, her voice barely above a whisper, “they said if I got it done they'd let me go. It was stupid of me to think they were telling the truth, but…”

“You didn’t have a choice.”

“I’m so sorry, Steve.”

He nodded. “You didn’t want to be on missions with me in case they… set you off.” He cringed, but you didn’t seem bothered.

“By the time I’d got through the first week with you, I knew I couldn’t do it. I tried to stay as far from you as I could, even though it was the last thing I wanted. I tried to protect you in the bar, but that just made them angry, and… now we’re here.”

“You didn’t have a choice,” he said again. He could feel her hands trembling.

“I almost told you at dinner. I started to. I thought you could get enough distance that by the time they realized what I was doing you’d be safe. But Rumlow was watching. He sent a shock through me, and I knew there’d be no way I could get you clear.” She sighed. “At least this way I can help you escape, try to keep you alive. I can try and steal some keys and–”

He nodded. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“C’mere.”

“What?”

“Just… look at me.” She slid around next to him, watching anxiously.

“This is not your fault,” he said slowly. “I’m so sorry you were put in this situation.”

“I–”

“No. We’re gonna get you out. You did everything you could to keep people safe. We’re gonna take care of you.”

Her hands tensed in her lap, and her shoulders began to shake as a sob wracked through her. Tears began to slide down her cheeks, and as he reached hesitantly to wipe them away, she threw her arms around his neck.

Steve swallowed down a groan, but he wrapped his arms around her.

He was going to get her out.

…..

Your heart sank when you saw the second chair.

Rumlow had been especially enthusiastic as he walked you into the interrogation room, and it didn’t take long to understand why.

Steve was already cuffed in place, and you were relieved to see how much his healing had progressed in the hours since you’d left him in his cell.

But you knew before Rumlow even directed you towards it that the chair opposite Steve was for you.

“Go ahead and fasten those cuffs nice and tight, sweetheart,” he drawled, tablet in hand. You did as he asked without hesitation, heart thundering in your chest.

“We’re gonna try for Round 2, Cap,” Rumlow crowed, coming to stand behind you. “Only this time, I think we see how you feel when someone else is on the receiving end.” You squeezed your eyes shut as his hand wandered along your throat and across your chest, fingers skimming well below your neckline.

“Whatever he does,” you said through gritted teeth, “it doesn’t fucking matter. Don’t give him shit, Steve.”

“Oh, that’s nice,” he crooned, his breath fanning over your ear. “So glad you two made nice.” Your eyes flew open. “What?” he mocked his hand trailing down your abdomen. “Did you think there was such a thing as a private conversation in a Hydra holding cell? ‘I’m so sorry Steve!’” he whined. “Pathetic, but it makes for great entertainment.”

You bit down hard on your tongue as his hand dropped to the apex of your thighs, but he’d hardly brushed his fingers across you when Steve slammed the legs of his chair against the ground.

“Don’t fucking touch her,” he growled, and Rumlow flinched.

“Oh, that’s it Rogers. Take care of your little whore, why don’t you? Tell you what. I’ll treat her real nice if you tell me where Barnes is.”

“Steve,” you pleaded. “Don’t.”

Steve’s eyes flicked back and forth between yours and Rumlow’s.

“No?” Rumlow clicked his tongue. “Such a shame.” He collected a metal object from the table next to you. “But since she doesn’t want to be Hydra anymore, we should probably get rid of this.”

He pushed your neckline down harshly, and brought the metal to the emblem on your skin.

It took you three seconds to register that the object in his hand was a blowtorch. A scream tore its way from your lungs as you strained against the cuffs and Rumlow’s grip on your shoulder, your body convulsing as your skin bubbled and burned.

You locked eyes with Steve, tears pouring down your face, a silent plea for him to stay quiet battling with desperation for the pain to stop.

Steve was flushed, his cuffs cutting into him as he resisted every desire to give in and make Rumlow stop.

When the torch was finally removed, there was no relief. You failed to stifle your sobs as the pain pulsed through you.

“Rumlow, I swear to god,” Steve grit out.

“God? Really?” He rolled his eyes. “Give me a fucking break. I could kill her with the press of a button, which I’m pretty damn near close to doing. You’re testing my patience.”

He bent down in front of you, his face inches from yours. “C’mon, sweetheart. Why don’t you beg for the great Captain America to save you? It’d be so easy for him to just–”

You spit directly on his face, and it was almost worth the slap he landed on your cheek that sent the room spinning.

“Fine,” he hissed. “She doesn’t wanna talk either, Cap. So, why don’t I shut her up completely?”

“Steve, don’t–” You were silenced as Rumlow’s hand clamped down on your throat, effectively cutting off any intake of air.

You fought to remain calm, eyes locked on Steve’s, but it wasn’t long before your lungs were screaming. Your feet scrabbled along the floor, your hands gripping at the armrests so hard they ached.

Your heart pounded, and the room spun faster. You gasped and choked, desperate for a breath, but he didn’t relent.

Steve was yelling, but it was muddied by the ringing in your ears.

Your vision began to darken at the edges, and you searched for any memory to hold on to, landing on the half a moment of relief after Steve had kissed you. You’d felt breathless then, too.

But his eyes across from you now were full of panic.

It was the last thing you saw.

…..

“C’mon, c’mon, c’mon,” Steve pleaded, fingers pressed to her pulse point. He was rewarded with a weak rhythm.

“You probably don’t want to wake her if we’re going to—” Simmons started, but she was cut off by a violent gasp, followed by harsh coughing.

Steve breathed a heavy sigh of relief as she woke.

She jerked sharply away from his touch, face clouded with panic. “Hey! Hey, it’s okay, honey, it’s okay. It’s me.” He held out both hands gently. She calmed for a moment, but her eyes flitted quickly to either side of him.

“Dr. Simmons? Agent Romanoff? How–” She broke off in another coughing fit.

Steve winced. Her voice sounded like she’d been gargling glass.

He soothed a hand over her arm, then grabbed a blade from the table next to her. Moving slowly so he didn’t startle her, he cut through the cuffs holding her wrists and knelt in front of her.

“They’re here to get us out.”

“But, Rumlow–”

“Is off looking for Bucky.”

Her eyes filled with tears. “You told him? Steve, I’m not–”

“I don’t know where Bucky is.”

Her mouth fell open.

“I haven’t seen him since the Triskellion.”

“Then why–”

“I needed Rumlow to be convinced enough that he’d be willing to make a long trip, so I’d have enough time to get you out. You were amazing. I don’t know how–”

“He’s gone?”

“Yes. Nat cleared an exit route for us, so we just have to–”

“No.”

Steve froze. “No?”

She leaned back in her chair, cradling her wrists to her chest. “I can’t go with you.”

“What are you talking about?” He reached for her hand. “We just have to–”

“No!” she cried, tears streaming down her cheeks. “We’re not gonna go through all of that just for me to get you blown up. The second he realizes you lied, he’ll–” She choked on her tears, her chest heaving.

Steve swallowed thickly. “Honey,” he said gently, wiping the tears from her cheeks. “I know. That’s why Dr. Simmons is here. I need you to be brave for one more thing.”

“What?”

“We’ve seen use of similar devices with Hydra before. Captain Rogers notified us of it when he sent the distress call,” Simmons explained.

She looked at Steve. “When did you…”

He grimaced. “Right after you left my cell. I was going to tell you.” He tapped his jaw. “We all have one. You would’ve gotten yours next week, if you wanted it.”

“I’ve brought the containment unit Fitz designed, so once I get the device out, we’re in the clear.” She winced. “Unfortunately, not all of my kit survived the infiltration.”

Steve whirled on her. “What? What do you mean?”

“Well, with the tools in this room, I can get the thing out, and I can contain it, but… it’s gonna hurt like hell.”

“You–”

“Rogers,” Nat said sharply. “We did what we could. You know better than anyone that SHIELD doesn’t have shit right now. This was half-assed at best. We’re making do.”

“So she’s just supposed to tough it out?”

“Steve.” He turned back to face her, and found her expression steeled. “I can do it.”

He breathed heavily. “Fuck it. What do you need, Dr. Simmons?”

But Steve felt fairly useless as the supplies were collected around him. Simmons selected a small blade from the table and sterilized it with the blowtorch. He wasn’t the only one who flinched when the flame clicked on.

Nat cut a piece of leather off of one of the flogs. “For her to bite down on,” she explained. Steve cringed, but he took the piece from her, and handed Simmons a needle when she requested it.

His mouth fell open as she dug a container of dental floss out of the bag on her hip. “You have floss but you don’t–”

“My. Kit. Was. Destroyed,” she grit out, her prim demeanor slipping.

Steve scrubbed a hand over his face. “I’m sorry. What else can I do?”

Simmons paused, surveying the room. “There’s no table large enough. I don’t want to risk her collapsing. Can you… hold her up?”

Steve knelt again in front of the chair. “Ready?”

She swallowed. “Yes.”

He stood and helped her to her feet, then handed her the leather strip. She placed it between her teeth and stepped close enough that she could rest her forehead against his chest. Her arms wrapped around his waist. He tucked one of his arms under her elbow to keep her upright, and placed a hand on the back of her head to keep it steady.

“I’m going to make this as quick as possible,” Simmons promised, approaching with blade in hand.

“You’ve got this,” he whispered, and he felt her body tense.

He held her tightly against him as the incision was made, tears brimming in his eyes at her screams muffled by the leather in her mouth.

Later he would notice the indentations she clawed into his back, but he couldn’t feel anything in that moment.

“Got it!” Simmons called triumphantly, shutting a small bloodied chip in the case she’d brought with her.

Steve nearly cried in relief. “You did so good, honey,” he soothed, pulling away enough so he could see her tear-stained face.

She managed a weak smile before going lax in his arms.

…..

You woke to a soft mechanical hum, but it was quickly overwhelmed by throbbing pain at the back of your neck and on your shoulder. You groaned softly as you stirred, disoriented, but any panic that started to creep in was quickly dismissed as your eyes fell on Steve’s, who was seated on the bench you were laid on, watching you with concern.

When he registered that you were awake, he moved quickly to kneel next to you.

“Hi,” he whispered, his hand gently brushing the hair off your forehead.

“Hi.” You smiled. “You’re safe.”

He chuckled. “Of course that’s your go-to. Have you seen yourself recently?”

You looked at him nervously. “Is it really gone?”

He nodded. “You’re free.”

You felt tears starting to pour down your cheeks. “Now what?” you asked weakly.

“Probably a vacation,” he teased.

You winced as you tried to sit up, and he pressed a hand to your back to help ease you against the wall behind you. He sat down next to you, his fingertips tapping anxiously on his knee.

You looked up at him nervously, then turned your palm up and brushed it against his leg. He looked at you for a moment, then took it. His thumb ran circles over your knuckles.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” he assured.

You laughed lightly. “How about for ruining our date?”

He clicked his tongue. “That’s fair. But I mean we could always try again.”

Your eyes widened. “You want to? After all of that?” you asked incredulously.

He grinned. “I really do.”

You smiled softly, leaning gingerly against him. He pressed a kiss to the crown of your head.

“Maybe we order in for this one, though.”

A/N: Did this basically turn into a very violent MCU Hercules as I wrote it? Yes. But I'm not mad about it, and I hope you enjoyed it. Feedback is always appreciated!

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