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Description
body div#devskin0 hr { }

Note: the reader here is an Agent that frequently works with the Avengers. You have the ability to heal injuries, but with a price: whatever wound or injury you healed appears on your body at the exact same spot, with the exact same severity, leaving you suffering from an injury meant for someone else.

***

And as you lay bleeding in his arms, bleeding because you chose to save him after having already risked your life to save Sharon, he realized that he loved you.

He loved your soulful eyes and your beautifully curved lips. He fell for your quick wit, your sense of humor, and your adorable quirkiness. He didn't know when the feeling exactly started, now that he realized it—whether it was the time when Fury introduced you as an additional member of the team, or the countless days and nights you spent with him as he tried to adjust to this century and the technologies that came with it, or the moments that even after he turned you down, after he rejected you, (his heart clenched painfully at the memory) you still answered his calls and gave him what he needed. God knows just how heartbreaking that must be for you.

He loved you.

You gave yourself to him freely. You gave him everything he asked for and more. You gave him your time, your knowledge of the 21st century, your friendship, and your company, especially in the nights when he was plagued with the things that happened in the past and just couldn’t sleep. You gave him your heart, your love, and all he did was take and take and just fucking take from you.

He loved you.

He whispered your name, his hand brushing the blood that escaped your lips before subconsciously wiping the tears that escaped his eyes. When did he start crying?

“I'm sorry, I don't feel the same. You're a great friend but I just don't—I like Sharon, in fact, I was planning on asking her out tonight…”

“Oh really? I’m sorry too.” You laughed, but it sounded strangely hollow. “My mouth tends to run on its own, I guess. I hope this doesn’t affect our friendship, Steve.”

“Don’t worry, it won’t.”

“Oh, and by the way?” Your eyes have a curious shine in them now. “Wear that dark blue polo when you ask her. It looks good on you.”

He was never considerate of your feelings. Even after he and Sharon started dating, you were the person that he called when he woke up from his nightmares. You were the anchor that held him in this century. You are the one that he needed to see to keep him grounded in the present. You never let him down. At nights like those you would distract him with documentaries from History Channel, Monopoly, UNO, and a lesson or two from a video game that you insisted he played. Soon enough the noises on his mind would cease and the unending chatter on his brain would be replaced by a laughter that came from one of your antics, and he knows that his body has calmed down enough for him to sleep.

How many times has he broken your heart by being with him but having that knowledge that he was with someone else?

He knows you always wondered why he never called Sharon during times like those, and he’s glad you never asked. He doesn’t know why either. And even if he willed himself to call Sharon, yours is the number that he always end up pressing. Now he knows why.

He loved you. And his heart has a damn crappy timing of realizing it.

He pushed your hair out of your eyes and whispered your name as he cradled you to his chest. Your eyes fluttered.

“Steve?” your voice was a hoarse whisper, and he stamped down the feeling of despair as more blood dribbled out of your mouth. Your hand reached out to feel around his torso, feeling the area where a rogue agent had stabbed him with a knife. Instead of smooth skin that usually accompanied your healing, you felt roughened edges of a shallow wound. “I guess…” you coughed out more blood “…I wasn’t able to heal you as well as I should.”

Even while bleeding you still thought of his safety above yours.

“It’s okay…it’s okay, sweetheart.” He was putting pressure on the wounds now. He had to at least slow down the bleeding while waiting for the quinjet. “It’s just a scratch now, I think you healed my spleen just fine. Stark’ll arrive at three minutes, tops.” Why won’t the damn bleeding stop? “Be strong for me, okay?”

He loved you. Why does he have to realize it now?

“I’ll try,” Your hand reached out and wiped a tear as you smiled.

Steve grabbed your hand and kissed your knuckles. “Promise me.”

“You know I can’t, Steve.”

”Please.”

It was getting harder to stay awake, now. You were surprised that you were still able to think coherently in the sea of pain that you are feeling. You know you wouldn’t make out of this alive. Not this time. But at least you were able to save Sharon. And Steve, especially. The world needs Captain America more than they’ll ever need you. And even if Steve will mourn you as a close friend and comrade that he lost, Sharon will be there with him. Sharon will help him heal, and with time, you hoped Steve will never forget you and the memories that you made with him.

“Be happy, Steve.” Your fingers brushed on his cheeks until it was too exhausting for you, so you let your hand drop against his chest. You can feel his heart beating loudly, a lullaby to your final sleep. “You’re not alone now. You have the team, and most importantly, you have her.” Sharon.

You’re at peace with your death. While you did not like that grief that would come to your friends, to Steve, with your passing, you looked at the bright side. God is finally giving you an eternal respite from your broken heart.

They will mourn, you know that. They’re practically your family now, afterall. Bucky, Tony, Bruce, Thor, Sam, Clint, Nat, Scott, Pietro, Wanda, T’challa, maybe even Vision, Nick Fury and that spider-kid Peter. You’ll miss them all. But they’ll have each other when you’re gone, and in time, you’d be nothing but a fond memory that they will tell in each other over warm nights and expensive wine.

You accepted your death the moment you chose to heal Steve, and take on his injury even with the punctured lung that you got after healing Sharon.

Goodbye, Steve.

You mustered the last of your strength to focus on him. You stared at his perfect face, his blond hair, his bright blue eyes, and his lips that are now stretched into a thin line as concentrated on staunching the bleeding. You would surely remember his face in the afterlife. Sharon is one lucky woman, to be able to call Steven Grant Rogers hers. And while you did not like the pain that came with giving your heart to a man that had loved someone else, you never regretted all the times that you spent with him. They were the best moments of your life. He was the highlight of your life.

“I love you, Steve.”

And then you breathed your last.

…

…

…

NO! Don’t leave me, please. I love you!

…

…I love you!

…

…Don’t you die on me. Not now, please.

I…love…you…

Description
body div#devskin0 hr { }

Note: the reader here is an Agent that frequently works with the Avengers. You have the ability to heal injuries, but with a price: whatever wound or injury you healed appears on your body at the exact same spot, with the exact same severity, leaving you suffering from an injury meant for someone else.

***

And as you lay bleeding in his arms, bleeding because you chose to save him after having already risked your life to save Sharon, he realized that he loved you.

He loved your soulful eyes and your beautifully curved lips. He fell for your quick wit, your sense of humor, and your adorable quirkiness. He didn't know when the feeling exactly started, now that he realized it—whether it was the time when Fury introduced you as an additional member of the team, or the countless days and nights you spent with him as he tried to adjust to this century and the technologies that came with it, or the moments that even after he turned you down, after he rejected you, (his heart clenched painfully at the memory) you still answered his calls and gave him what he needed. God knows just how heartbreaking that must be for you.

He loved you.

You gave yourself to him freely. You gave him everything he asked for and more. You gave him your time, your knowledge of the 21st century, your friendship, and your company, especially in the nights when he was plagued with the things that happened in the past and just couldn’t sleep. You gave him your heart, your love, and all he did was take and take and just fucking take from you.

He loved you.

He whispered your name, his hand brushing the blood that escaped your lips before subconsciously wiping the tears that escaped his eyes. When did he start crying?

“I'm sorry, I don't feel the same. You're a great friend but I just don't—I like Sharon, in fact, I was planning on asking her out tonight…”

“Oh really? I’m sorry too.” You laughed, but it sounded strangely hollow. “My mouth tends to run on its own, I guess. I hope this doesn’t affect our friendship, Steve.”

“Don’t worry, it won’t.”

“Oh, and by the way?” Your eyes have a curious shine in them now. “Wear that dark blue polo when you ask her. It looks good on you.”

He was never considerate of your feelings. Even after he and Sharon started dating, you were the person that he called when he woke up from his nightmares. You were the anchor that held him in this century. You are the one that he needed to see to keep him grounded in the present. You never let him down. At nights like those you would distract him with documentaries from History Channel, Monopoly, UNO, and a lesson or two from a video game that you insisted he played. Soon enough the noises on his mind would cease and the unending chatter on his brain would be replaced by a laughter that came from one of your antics, and he knows that his body has calmed down enough for him to sleep.

How many times has he broken your heart by being with him but having that knowledge that he was with someone else?

He knows you always wondered why he never called Sharon during times like those, and he’s glad you never asked. He doesn’t know why either. And even if he willed himself to call Sharon, yours is the number that he always end up pressing. Now he knows why.

He loved you. And his heart has a damn crappy timing of realizing it.

He pushed your hair out of your eyes and whispered your name as he cradled you to his chest. Your eyes fluttered.

“Steve?” your voice was a hoarse whisper, and he stamped down the feeling of despair as more blood dribbled out of your mouth. Your hand reached out to feel around his torso, feeling the area where a rogue agent had stabbed him with a knife. Instead of smooth skin that usually accompanied your healing, you felt roughened edges of a shallow wound. “I guess…” you coughed out more blood “…I wasn’t able to heal you as well as I should.”

Even while bleeding you still thought of his safety above yours.

“It’s okay…it’s okay, sweetheart.” He was putting pressure on the wounds now. He had to at least slow down the bleeding while waiting for the quinjet. “It’s just a scratch now, I think you healed my spleen just fine. Stark’ll arrive at three minutes, tops.” Why won’t the damn bleeding stop? “Be strong for me, okay?”

He loved you. Why does he have to realize it now?

“I’ll try,” Your hand reached out and wiped a tear as you smiled.

Steve grabbed your hand and kissed your knuckles. “Promise me.”

“You know I can’t, Steve.”

”Please.”

It was getting harder to stay awake, now. You were surprised that you were still able to think coherently in the sea of pain that you are feeling. You know you wouldn’t make out of this alive. Not this time. But at least you were able to save Sharon. And Steve, especially. The world needs Captain America more than they’ll ever need you. And even if Steve will mourn you as a close friend and comrade that he lost, Sharon will be there with him. Sharon will help him heal, and with time, you hoped Steve will never forget you and the memories that you made with him.

“Be happy, Steve.” Your fingers brushed on his cheeks until it was too exhausting for you, so you let your hand drop against his chest. You can feel his heart beating loudly, a lullaby to your final sleep. “You’re not alone now. You have the team, and most importantly, you have her.” Sharon.

You’re at peace with your death. While you did not like that grief that would come to your friends, to Steve, with your passing, you looked at the bright side. God is finally giving you an eternal respite from your broken heart.

They will mourn, you know that. They’re practically your family now, afterall. Bucky, Tony, Bruce, Thor, Sam, Clint, Nat, Scott, Pietro, Wanda, T’challa, maybe even Vision, Nick Fury and that spider-kid Peter. You’ll miss them all. But they’ll have each other when you’re gone, and in time, you’d be nothing but a fond memory that they will tell in each other over warm nights and expensive wine.

You accepted your death the moment you chose to heal Steve, and take on his injury even with the punctured lung that you got after healing Sharon.

Goodbye, Steve.

You mustered the last of your strength to focus on him. You stared at his perfect face, his blond hair, his bright blue eyes, and his lips that are now stretched into a thin line as concentrated on staunching the bleeding. You would surely remember his face in the afterlife. Sharon is one lucky woman, to be able to call Steven Grant Rogers hers. And while you did not like the pain that came with giving your heart to a man that had loved someone else, you never regretted all the times that you spent with him. They were the best moments of your life. He was the highlight of your life.

“I love you, Steve.”

And then you breathed your last.

…

…

…

NO! Don’t leave me, please. I love you!

…

…I love you!

…

…Don’t you die on me. Not now, please.

I…love…you…