Marvel Imagines

Steve Rogers // Rough Times Pt.1

I've been living in the Avengers Mansion for a month now. I've been a part of the Avengers for nearly three weeks now. However, since I am 'new' to this whole Avengers thing I had to train for hours upon hours. Each and every single day. I like to think I'm already trained enough, considering all I've done. I got put with Captain America as my coach and It's been absolute hell.

"Your swing is too wide, try bringing it closer in," Steve commented as I threw continuous punches at the hanging punching bag in front of me. I let out a heavy breath ad I felt sweat drip down my face onto my chest. I ignored Steve's comment and continued with how I was punching.

"Are you not paying attention to me, Y/n?! You could get yourself killed if you don't bring in your punches." Steve brought up his voice as he walked over to me. I rolled my eyes and turned to look at him angrily.

"And yelling at me is going to fucking help!?" I raised my voice now. My chest now heavily lifting up an down. He stood a bit further away from me, watching my every move. It's been like that ever since he started to "train" me.

"Well, you clearly weren't paying attention when I first said it." He said as he scoffed. I rolled my eyes and threw a hard punch to the bag and continued to throw hard ones continuously. I felt myself continue to push myself as hot tears started to fall down my face.

I let an annoyed screamed and threw one last hard punch at the bag. I backed up and watched as it fell from the chain it was hanging on. It hit the ground with a loud thud. I continued to stare at the bag before I turned around and went to my water bottle.

"Your swings are still way too wide," Steve sighed as he rubbed his temples. 

"Yeah, well, you're way too wide with your Dorito body shape.." I retorted back at him after I drank the rest of my water.

"Remember what happened last time we were on a mission? You nearly got yourself killed! In the time you throw you punches gives enough time for the enemy to attack or block!" He brought up his voice. I glared over at him and made my way back to the bag and started to pick it was. Which was way harder then it looked.

"You're struggling," Steve commented as he watched me try to lift the punching bag back up.

"No, I'm not," I responded in a huff. I watched Steve from the corner of my eye. He came over and rolled his eyes. He took the punching bag from my hands and quickly put it back up on the chain in one swift motion. I scoffed and rolled my eyes.

"You need to narrow your swings, kick harder, and distract the person. You can't give them so many open opportunities to attack you." Steve explained rather loudly as he turned his gaze onto me.

"Yeah, well, you need to widen your space from me," I remarked and went to throw a punch at him, which he easily blocked and turned it against me. He pushed me back, and I fell to the floor hitting my back against the hard floor. I groaned in pain and closed my eyes tightly. I brought my hand up to the back of my head.

"See what happened, Y/n?! I blocked and turned it against you. Come on, now get up! We're not done here." He explained and walked over to the bench to grab some tape.

"No," I answered and stood up on my feet. "I am done with you. You are pushing me instead of helping me!"

"This is helping you, Y/n! Giving someone cookies and candy for doing something wrong isn't going to help and make everything better! Because if you praise the bad work the person will end up getting killed!" Steve yelled while he folded his arms across his chest.

"Excuse me, married couple, can you stop fucking yelling? I am trying to work in the room next to you." Steve and I both turned our heads and saw Tony leaning against the doorway.