The One Shot Chapters (18+)

Steve Rogers - Treacherous (AU)

A/N - This is set in the 18th century smuggling era. 

**

Port Asgard was not somewhere that one would find easily on a map when sailing. The isle itself wasn't meant to be. Should anyone have stumbled upon it then they would have found their ship completely wrecked, good taken and their bodies being dumped further out at sea. Instead it was a place frequented by smugglers and wreckers, barely anyone with a reputable reputation in town - even the women.

The Vormir Inn served as the main watering hole for the crews who would stop off to stay before sailing, or to the ones who lived there. Night after night there would be fights, gambling, bloodshed. And even though Letitia Gregory had been there for over a year? She still found that she could not get used to it. She was fed up with having the scrub the blood from the floors, scrubbing at her nails and calloused hands just to feel 'clean'. It had been her father that had got them into this mess. She had resented him long before having to come to Port Asgard, but did so even more now she was forced to dwell in a hell hole such as this.

All because his judgement had got the better of him. All because he had been blinded by just what smuggling contraband could bring for them.

Punishment. It had brought a lot of coins before but now this was punishment for her careless father being caught. The authorities had been tipped off about their inn back home, how it was potentially being used to store goods that wrecked ships had brought. They had come looking, and as a result, Letitia and her father had needed to take the secret passage used to transfer the goods and run.

It had only been by pure luck that their father had found someone through his contacts to secure safe passage from their home. But unfortunately it meant permanent exile, and as a token 'thanks', having to serve the one who had allowed them to board his ship. Letitia knew the captain of that ship was corrupt, but hadn't then known of his formidable reputation.

Steve Rogers.

Even now as she angrily swept the floor of the inn for what felt like the hundredth time that day (it would never be clean, there would always be dust, dirt) it was that very man who made her blood boil. And he would always make it his mission to piss her off even just so much by having his presence there. He never needed to say a thing to her. She simply had to take one look at him (not that she wanted to) and it would be enough to put her in an even fouler mood than before. Her lips tightly knitted together, sharp features- including a stare that would probably kill a man someday - emphasised even more.

She hated him.

Loathed him.

The only respite she had from his presence in the inn being when he and his crew sailed to transport goods or to attack trading ships that they had been watching.

Unfortunately, today was not one of them days - and now as she looked up, she saw him watching her from his usual table. The many empty bottles of ale a tell-tale sign that he had been there a while.

And boy did she know it.

"I thought I told you to stop staring at me!" She snapped.

No one in their right mind, or even in the whole of Port Asgard had ever had the nerve to talk to or stand up to Steve the way that Letitia did. But she had never cared for what she said. Never cared who she hurt with words. They meant nothing to her - and so did he. Letitia wouldn't even care if her father were to die at the hands of the kinds of men who came here. If anything she would welcome it. It would serve him right for everything that he had done. To have them resort to this kind of life.

"A little hard to when you're walking around like the miserable bitch that you are". Steve threw back calmly, taking a swig from his bottle. To him, Letitia had a lovely - almost perfect - face. It was just a shame that constantly looked pissed off, otherwise he would've considered her the rarest beauty that he had ever smuggled across the seas. "Have you ever once smiled?"

She glared daggers back at him. "Never, now leave me alone and then get out".

"I'll leave when I choose to leave". He snarled and grabbed the skirt of her dress, pulling her down onto his lap and holding her there as she struggled to get free. His grip burning into her. She felt more dirtier than ever. "Does your father know of you whoring yourself out to any man who's willing once this place falls silent?" He hissed into her ear.

How the hell did he know that? That she'd had to stoop so low as to get more coins through quick and meaningless fucks with men who were just like him. Less barbaric but all the same. Not that she cared about that. She needed to get her kicks somehow - but at the same time it made her no better than the women who did it for a living.

"You could even earn a few more through an arrangement with me...it would be a shame if daddy had to find out".

Within moments she was on her feet and slapped him across the face. Some of the men in the bar now watching. "Don't you ever touch me. Ever!" She hissed back. "You don't get or ever will have the privilege".

"And yet other lowlife's around here do? " He snorted at this. "What have they got that I don't?"

Letitia still glared at him, every fibre of her being filled with pure hate. "You just can't stand the fact that I hate you. I want nothing to do with you".

"Well considering the deal was that I bring you and your father here and you run the inn? That's not going to happen. If you want to go back and face the music and the noose for your assistance in the smuggling world? I'll be happy to dump you there". He stood up and stared down at her. "Be grateful I was in the mood to help you both at all".

She still sported the same disgusted expression as he towered over her. She wasn't afraid of him. Not at all. "The kindest thing you could have done would have been to just kill us both. My father doesn't deserve to be here, he doesn't deserve what he has. He marked us both for death the moment he chose choosing to smuggle over protecting his own family".

Steve simply gave her a few home truths, not caring for the fact that she wouldn't like it, but the truth hurt. "He's a smuggler. He almost got caught. He will always care for the life and the trade more than family. And you? You'll have to get used to his choice".