Steve Rogers One Shots, what else can I say? This book is flavored freedom and colored American pride. If you're into Mr. USA, you'll enjoy your time reading this collection of original one shots.
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Aghhhhhh those gifs.
Alrighty here's a one shot I've been working on for like an hour. So if it ain't perfect, my excuse is that I've barely edited it XD.
***
I was feeling pretty great about how I was handling the mission. I'd dispatched every Hydra agent in my half of the building, and I'd made it to the large command center where I was currently downloading much needed information onto a flash drive. The mission had taken half of the time planned for so far, and I hadn't even gotten a bruise. The mission was looking like a success.
That is, until I got shot.
A large patch of warm red blossomed up in my side, as I felt the impact hit me. It honestly felt like getting a tiny helicarrier thrust into my stomach with the force of a plasma blast. Translation: it hurt. A lot.
I gasped and twisted as I fell, aiming the gun I'd slipped out of the holster on my thigh. I shot the idiot Hydra guy in the head, and he died a lot faster than I was going to.
I lifted one hand to my side, applying pressure to my wound, my body already burning with intense pain.
"Steve?" I wheezed into my earpiece, the name of my best friend was the first that came to mind in this circumstance. Or in any circumstance. I was pretty obsessed with him, and if I admitted it to myself, I was in love with him. The problem was, we weren't together. For 16 months(yes I was counting) I'd been only close friends with him, and we were admittedly inseparable. But I didn't think he returned my romantic feelings, so I kept quiet.
"Makenna?" His voice sounded worried, and I could tell he was breathing heavy. I heard gunfire over his line, but it was quickly silenced by some guy's final yell in the background.
"I- I've been shot." I croaked out, hitting the ground. The force of the impact made my side hurt even more, if that were possible. I tried to concentrate on breathing evenly and applying pressure to my wound.
"Shit." was his only response, and his breathing grew faster. I could hear him begin to run, I could hear the pounding of his feet against the floors and walls of the winding halls as he gave up on all attempts at stealth. I suddenly felt cold, not because of my shot wound, but because he'd actually sworn. Steve Rogers never swore. Never. Okay Steve had a bit of a sailor's mouth, but he never said a swear word by itself.
