Marvel Oneshots

Stronger- Steve Rogers x Reader

Hello hello no one reads this story but I write it for comfort and stuff. Well I love y'all anyways. Enjoy!
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A bead of sweat trickled down your forehead. This was one of many, and you payed it no attention, simply blinking it out of your eyes.
It was not until the door opened that you stopped for more than a few seconds.
"Hey."
A certain blond super soldier had come to pay you a visit, which surprised you.
Fewer and fewer people had come to see you, and recently that number had dwindled down drastically. It was like everyone had given up on you. You couldn't blame them.
"You've been here for a long time."
You paused slightly, shrugged and continued your relentless blows to the punching bag in front of you.
"Don't you think you should take a break?"
He stood there, persistent, determined to stop the strain on your body, and your mind. But you tried to pay him no mind and ignored him, and continued your grueling training.
"Y/N."
Finally, you answered. "What do you need?" Mumbling under your breath, you seemed very unlike yourself. Well, what you used to be, before... this happened to your body.
"Y/N, I need you to stop." Steve stepped closer. "Please."
Ignoring the lump that swelled up in your throat, you refused to look at him. One look into those pleading gorgeous eyes and you would be gone.
You had to keep on going. No one could stop you now.
No one wants to stop you. You're worthless. Work harder, you weak bitch. You'll never do anything right unless you stop being a pussy.
"Y/N?"
The tall man snapped you out of your self loathing thoughts, the ones you'd been having for ages. The only ones pushing your body to the harsh exercises you were doing now.
"Y/N!"
Not being able to take it anymore, he stepped forward and grabbed your arm firmly, but not painfully.
"Don't do this. You're going to hurt yourself."
Finally glaring into his concern filled blue eyes, you muttered out in a hoarse voice, "That's the point."
"No. Please! Why are you doing this?"
"Let me go."
You ripped your arm from his grasp,
tearing your gaze from your visitor. Your body longed to throw yourself into his arms, bury your face into his strong chest and just stay there. Forget about everything.
Forget about what happened.
Forget about the pain.
But that couldn't happen. You would never get him.
So you resisted the urge. Part of you felt satisfied. You resisted. You were getting stronger. It was working.
"Listen to me, you're doing more harm than good. Y/N, look at me. Please, stop."
Taking hold of your arm again, he tugged you away. Trying to free yourself from his grasp, you struggled and pulled yourself free. Determined to put an end to this, Steve wrapped his arms around your body and picked you up.
Carrying your thrashing, protesting body out of the training area and to the elevator, you dealt more than a few blows but he refused to let you harm yourself any longer.
After a few minutes, you stopped, succumbing to exhaustion. The rest of the elevator ride ended in silence, the only sound your heavy breathing.
Moments later, the super soldier set your limp body down into the soft sheets on your freshly made bed.
He walked into the bathroom, and you lied there, unmoving, too tired to get up. Your resistance had been worn out, leaving the exhaustion to crash down upon you.
Returning, he sat down beside you.
"Y/N, can you go take a bath?"
Your gaze flickered up to his, and dropped again, and you nodded wordlessly.
Dragging your battered, limping body to the bathroom, you closed the door without a word.
Steve had drawn a bath for you, and prepared some clean clothes to change into after.
Soaking into the hot water, your mind was empty of thought. It was like it was completely drained.
You were completely drained.
After drying yourself with a fluffy towel, you changed into the clothes Steve had prepared for you, which were one of his shirts, and a pair of comfortable shorts. And your underwear. You could almost imagine him blushing furiously and grabbing blindly for a pair, trying not to look.
You melded almost thoughtlessly with the routine, drying your hair, brushing it, brushing your teeth, applying lotion like you did it everyday.
Which you used to. All until... that happened. The mission, that led to your sacrifice and the pain that had lasted and still hadn't ended.
Come to think of it, you hadn't taken care of yourself or done normal things in a long time.
But why bother?
How could things ever be normal again?