⍟ Marvel one-shots volume II ☠

🎃 Ндʟʟошееп ѕресідʟ: Halloween nightmare 🎃

Pαιrιɴɢ:  Steve Rogers X Ex-HYDRA agent!Reader.
Word coυɴт: 691 words.
Sυммαry:  Nightmares can't become real, right?
Wαrɴιɴɢѕ: Nightmares, magic mirrors, darkness, return to dead, horror.
A/N: This is my entry to All Hallows Tropes with prompts 6, 9 & 11:

"A nightmare come to life."
"Mirrors playing tricks on the mind."
"The return of a villain thought dead."

So, I posted this first on my Tumblr.

My native language is Spanish so I wanna improve my writing skills in  English if you notice any mistakes, please let me know and I will correct them.

I don't give any kind of permission for my fics to be posted on other platforms or languages (I translate my work myself) or the use of my graphics (my dividers are included in this), I did them exclusively for my fics, please respect my work and don't steal it.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Marvel's characters (unfortunately), except for the original characters and the story.

The moon was shining in the starry sky, illuminating the streets as you and Steve Rogers walked together, hand in hand. We were dressed in costumes for the Halloween party being held downtown. You kept telling him how you had made your witch costume, and he listened attentively.

However, you couldn't stop thinking about the nightmare that haunted you every night for the past few weeks. It was always the same nightmare: you were trapped in a dark forest, haunted by terrifying shadows that whispered my deepest fears. The nightmare seemed all too real.

That night, you began to distract yourself with the party, but you had a feeling that something wasn't right. The mirrors in the ballroom reflected strange, distorted images. Every time Steve approached one, he saw reflected faces he didn't recognize and places he had never visited. He knew something was wrong, but he didn't know how to explain it; maybe it was some kind of modern joke that he couldn't understand.

Until a moment came when Steve realized that it wasn't a joke; something really strange was happening. Every time he looked in a mirror, he saw people who had been in his past, some fallen friends and other enemies he thought he had left behind. The mirrors seemed to be playing with his mind, showing him images that could not be real.

The night continued, but the feeling of unease would not leave you. Without realizing you had lost Steve, you started walking, somehow ended up in a dimly lit area, suddenly startled when you felt a hand on your shoulder, but relaxed when you saw it was Steve.

"We should go back home, "Steve proposed. You nodded; you weren't finding it funny anymore.

Without realizing it, the road started to get darker. Suddenly, halfway through what was supposed to be one of the streets that took them home, that's when you saw Brock Rumlow; his eyes shone with malice, and his presence caused a shiver to run through your body.

"It can't be. How is it possible?" I muttered, staring at Steve in disbelief.

He squeezed my hand tightly.

"I don't know, but we're not going to let it ruin our night.

"I think we should run; I don't think he'll catch us.

They went into the shadows, but every corner we turned seemed to take us somewhere else, getting darker and darker.

After a while, they came back to find Rumlow in a dark alley; however, he was not alone; he was surrounded by shadows that writhed and contorted as if they were extensions of his own evil, his true self.

Before he could say anything, Brock began to approach. Your heart pounded as you tried to process what was happening.

"Who the hell are you?" Steve asked, and you could tell he was clenching his jaw in fury.

Brock smiled mischievously. "Oh, I'm just an old friend," he said, his eyes shining with a strange intensity. "Hasn't your lovely wife told you about our history? Don't you really remember me?

You knew you had to explain what had happened between you, even though it had been a long, long time before you met Steve, but the words were caught in your throat, and you had never told anyone the truth.

Steve clenched his fists angrily. "It doesn't matter what happened in the past. She's my wife now, and I won't let you near her.

Brock let out a low, menacing laugh. Then he disappeared into the darkness of the night, leaving them with the feeling that something sinister was coming. Steve took me in his arms, promising to protect you from any threat that got in his way.

After closing the door to the house, even though they had no idea how they had found their way there, you clung to Steve tightly, grateful to have him by your side.

But one question kept echoing: what kind of dark magic or supernatural force had brought Brock Rumlow back?

Steve hugged you tightly. The dawn was beginning to appear, the mirrors stopped distorting reality, and everything was back to normal, or so it seemed.