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a continuation of the really crappy
and cliche oneshot i made
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WARNING: OVERLY CLICHE AND CRINGEY CONTENT AHEAD. THIS INCLUDES A REALLY CLICHE BALCONY SCENE, SO ITS GONNA BE REAAAAAAAAALLY CRINGEY
YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.
also Y/F/S = your favorite show
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When you woke up, you found yourself on the couch in the lounge, covered in a thick, fleece blanket that you swore wasn't on you before.
Vaguely, though, you remembered someone carrying you back but it all went hazy from there, because you were too tired to really care about your surroundings at the moment. You could still feel a dull, throbbing pain in your ankle but the feeling itself was mostly overcome by your tiredness.
You stood up and limped your way to the kitchen to grab something to drink, taking a Diet Coke out of the fridge and popping it open.
"You shouldn't be standing on that for prolonged periods, you know," you heard a voice say from behind you, turning around to see Steve leaning against the wall with a slight smile on his face. "Shouldn't you be resting?"
"I'm fine," you casually waved him off. "There's no need to worry."
"Really, Y/N, are you alright? Something's bothering you."
Jesus Christ, did this man read minds? you thought to yourself. Didn't know Captain America was a telepath.
You sighed and paused for a moment, contemplating his question before shaking your head. "No. I made a foolish mistake, and it's all my fault. I jeopardized not only the completion of the mission itself, but our safety."
"Your fault?" his eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. "In what way was it your fault? Things like this happen often so you shouldn't be blaming yourself. You couldn't help what happened."
"Yes, I could've," you muttered, "if I hadn't let my foolishness and feelings get in the way of completing my part of the mission."
His eyes suddenly flashed dark for a brief second. "Feelings? What are you talking about?"
"You know what I'm talking about," you huffed, before turning around on your heel and walking away, leaving him standing there to wonder what had gotten into you.
"Feelings for you."
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"Y/N, Tony wants to tell you to get down here for some team bonding."
"Go away, Nat," you mumbled into your pillow, burying yourself deeper underneath your bedsheets, though your hair was still wet from your lazy shower and you hadn't bothered to change into PJs. It wasn't even 7 pm, but still, you were tired out of your mind. "Tell him I say no because I'm sick and I feel like utter crap."
"You're gonna have to leave your room eventually, you know. We're watching Y/F/S, and I know you wouldn't miss an opportunity to binge an entire season."
You lifted your head up and stared blankly at her. "No, I won't. I'm not coming down."
"I heard what happened between you and Cap, by the way. Didn't sound so hot," she commented, pushing the door all the way open and making her way inside.
You groaned and pressed your face back into your pillow again.
"Why are you ignoring him?"
"I'm not ignoring him, I just...I'm temporarily taking a break from talking to him," you stuttered.
"Sounds like you're ignoring him. Now come on," she tugged you by the hand and pulled you off the bed into a standing position, much to your protests. "You need to come down now."
"Please, Nat," you looked up at your best friend with pleading eyes, "I'm not facing him right now. I doubt he'd be willing to do the same, either."
"Okay, fine," she sighed, "but you know you'll have to come down tomorrow. Hang tight for a sec, I'm going to go get Wanda."
"I love you!" you called out after her as she left.
"Love you too," Natasha chuckled lightly.
She came back upstairs and entered your room a few minutes later, with Wanda following suit.
"So," Wanda began, "are you going to stop ignoring him now or what?"
"I'm not---"
"You better fess up and tell us what's going on or I'll drag Cap in here myself," she warned you. "I know something's been going on."
"If you're trying to imply by your statement if I have feelings for him, then my answer is no comment," you rolled your eyes. "All that happened was I made a slight mistake on the mission, nothing much, really. Happy now?"
"Aha! So you do have feelings for him!" they both squealed, clapping their hands together.
"Children. I'm living with children," you muttered, shaking your head but laughing at the same time.
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You finally went downstairs later that night. The majority of the team was engrossed in watching whatever they'd put on TV for tonight, which happened to be Grey's Anatomy (you guessed either Tony or Clint sent in the suggestion, because if things went Sam and Bucky's way you'd be watching Food Network the entire time).
Sam gave you a nod and Peter waved at you, flashing you a wide grin. You smiled and waved back, before quietly creeping outside to the balcony so you could get some fresh air.
Even though it had been hours since you'd arrived back from the mission, you swore you could still hear the echoes of gunshots and explosions ringing in your ears and the smell of smoke filling up your nose.
But in all honesty, you'd prefer that feeling, well, any feeling really, over having feelings for Steve, which had almost jeopardized the mission itself.
"You're gonna get cold if you keep standing out here like this," you heard a voice comment, and turned your head around to see Steve making his way out towards you, his hands in his pockets.
"I'm not cold," you lied. "I'm perfectly okay."
Right after you spoke, though, a rush of cold wind passed over your body, causing you to rub your arms and shiver violently, chattering your teeth.
Steve just shook his head and sighed in response, taking several steps closer to you and ignored your protests as he shrugged his leather jacket off, draping it over your shoulders. It was hard not to sigh when you were enveloped with the sudden warmth, and just as difficult not to breathe in his calming scent.
You slid your arms into the jacket's sleeves and pulled the jacket tighter over your body, crossing your arms over your chest.
"Look, whatever I said back there, whatever I did today, I'm sorry---" you began, but all words that you were about to say were immediately cut off when he suddenly wrapped his arms around your torso and pulled you towards him, holding you tight.
He said nothing, simply tightening his grip around your waist and holding you close to his chest as his warm breaths fell against your neck.
"Does that mean I'm forgiven?" you mumbled, your voice muffled by the fabric of his T-shirt. "I know I screwed up, but..."
"You're forgiven," he spoke softly, running a careful hand through your hair, "I'm just worried about you, Y/N. You've barely been getting any sleep, not to mention that you were looking rather distracted earlier today when orders were being given to us. I just want to know why."
"Why what?"
"You know what."
"I don't know how else I'm supposed to put this," you whispered hoarsely. "I don't know what else to say."
"You're supposed to tell me that you're tired of acting like we're simply teammates, that you're tired of being 'just friends'," he said quietly, barely loud enough for you to hear.
(quick a/n but hot damn cap when did you become so smooth teach me your ways)
"Maybe I am tired of being 'just friends'," you repeated. "Maybe I was distracted because I was too caught up in worrying about if you were alright or not. Maybe I wasn't supposed to let my feelings for you get in the way, but they did anyways. Maybe, I wasn't supposed to let myself fall in love with someone that I didn't stand a chance with."
Without thinking about what he was doing, he gently brushed his fingers across your face, letting them linger in their place for a seconds before his hand fell back down to his side.
"I just want to know," he said again. "What choice are you going to make, now?"
"I don't need to make a choice when it's already been made for me," you replied, closing your eyes and letting yourself lean into his touch. "I'm choosing to stand by the one I love. And if it means I'm risking my life or doing whatever I have to in order to stay this way, then I'll do it."
"Then I'm going to do the same."