Summary- After "The Event" that claimed the lives of half the universe's population, Steve Rogers searched to gain control of anything in his life. What he found was you.
TW- Kidnapping, Non-Con/Dub-Con (non-violent), Explicit Smut
Trees flashed by in your periphery as you tore through the forest, your dress torn from brambles and branches, not knowing where you were or where you were going. All you knew was you couldn't stop.
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You had stopped trying to make sense of anything after half the population disappeared, but still, you couldn't help but wonder why? Why you? You had lost everyone and everything in the blink of an eye, one of the many randomly saved by Thano's "mercy." But all his mercy had done was made you a target.
The world immediately following, had devolved into chaos. No one knew what had happened, for weeks society struggled to accept and adapt to the new world. Being a student living at home, you continued living in your parents' home for months before the banks were able to restructure their businesses and gain control over their assets, hunting down property they owned and had not been properly paid for. You sold what you could before your eviction and moved the rest into a cozy efficiency apartment. School was no longer an option for you until you saved up some money, not that you had the same desires and goals that you once had. Everything was so confusing. Life seemed so precarious. All you wanted for the moment was a simple quiet existence. Taking a job at a deli, you made and delivered coffee and bagels by morning and sandwiches in the afternoon. That was how you met him.
The Avengers or what was left of them scrambled like everyone else after their defeat to try and bring peace to the turmoil and upheaval the world was tossed into. You delivered food at Avenger's Tower a few times, never expecting to actually see one of the heroes that lived there. Finally one morning, you delivered 6 coffees and an assortment of breakfast pastries to the front desk and saw him approaching.
"Sal's Deli?" he asked.
You nodded. No words were able to form as you stood there staring dumbly into the eyes of Captain America. No longer the clean-cut boy from Brooklyn, his beard and long dark honeyed locks made him look every bit the outlaw the government had tried to portray him as.
"How much do I owe you, Miss?"
You mumbled the amount aware of the warmth spreading across your cheeks as you watched his eyebrows raise at the price.
He reached into his back pocket, pulling out a worn leather wallet. His long fingers flipped through a series of bills before pulling out a fifty. You set the box holding all the food and drinks together on the front desk and reached for your bag to find his change.
His hand stilled yours gently. "Keep the change." He placed the fifty into your hand and your heart fluttered at the small smile he gave you. You couldn't believe the luck you had that day. Getting to meet Steve Rogers in person, and receiving a hefty tip in one trip.
You saw him a few times after that while making deliveries to the tower. He always tipped generously and always had a smile for you before taking his food and leaving. Soon after he came to the shop, sat at the counter wearing a hat and glasses trying to make conversation with you. It wasn't that you didn't want to talk to him, it's just what did you say to a man like that?
He began to pop up in the most unlikely places. It seemed every time you ventured out, you just happened to bump into him. He'd make small talk and you'd smile and seek a way out of the interaction. You didn't want or need the pressure of someone as perfect as Captain America's attention. It was too much. You started looking over your shoulder everywhere you went wondering if he was following you or if you were just crazy. It was so much easier to tell yourself you were crazy. But you weren't.
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Your bare feet ached, sides cramping, air struggled to fill your overtaxed lungs. You looked over your shoulder for any sign of him and searched the area for anywhere you could hide. You didn't know how far behind he was, but you knew he was coming for you. Hunting you.
A large fallen tree was a few yards ahead, the thick tangle of roots reaching toward the sky with thick underbrush growing around created a shelter that might work. You ran with what strength you had left and crawled into the cover. Hugging your knees to your chest, you tried to calm your breathing. Your hands flew to your mouth as you heard sticks and leaves crunch under the unmistakable weight of boots. Tears filled your eyes when you heard the voice that had haunted you for weeks.
"Are you done running?" the low voice asked. "Because I could do this all day."
