Avengers Imagines

Steve - Elevator

The morning air feels warm on your skin when you walk through the doors of the Avengers facility. It's rare that you're the first one to arrive, and you find the quietness of the place calming. It almost never stops bustling, after all.

You enter the elevator, your files in your hand, and press the floor on which you'll be working for the next several hours.

Working with the Avengers is quite hard work. Tony Stark needs a coffee at least twice in an hour every morning; Steve Rogers is almost always late to team meetings; Bruce Banner is just kind of scary; Clint Barton always requests a glass of coffee with cereal (something about having breakfast and caffeine in one bite); Thor Odinson finishes all the pop-tarts; Natasha Romanoff is... just Natasha. She's always been an angel.

So, when you see the elevator stop at Steve Rogers' floor on the way to yours, you tilt your head in confusion. In all the months you've been working here, you've never seen him in the elevator. He's the person who will always, without fail, walk (or run) up the stairs. And again, he's usually late, and you're especially early today.

When the elevator dings and opens its metal doors, you bask in the sight of Steve in front of you, seeing every single curve and dip on his body through his skin-tight shirt. What's up with him and his tight-ass shirts? The seams are literally about to break.

"I'm sorry?" Steve asks, baffled. He raises his eyebrows at you.

"Hmm?"

"Did you say something about my shirt?"

Your eyes widen and your jaw drops. "N-no," you lie straight through gritted teeth. "What... what're you talking about?"

"I heard you say something about my shirt," he replies, his eyes curious.

"I, uh..." you run out of words to say. What would be your excuse anyway? The air grows heavier as you feel the awkwardness practically radiating off of you. You've never heard silence quite this loud. "Sorry..."

"It's alright," he brushes it off, waving a hand in the air.

You audibly breathe a sigh of relief. It's okay. I'll be okay. I'll just get out and bathe in my own embarrassment and never look at him again.

The universe apparently has other plans when you hear the creaking of metal and see the lights flicker before the elevator stops abruptly.

You and Steve can almost feel the tension in the air. "Did the elevator just stop?" Steve asks, his voice calm.

You, however, are the furthest away from calm. In fact, you're full-on freaking out. First, you made a fool out of yourself in front of your crush who probably didn't know that you exist until this very moment. Second, he's right next to you, probably sensing your fear and panic. Third, the elevator stopped working and Tony Stark is on the other side of the world for his honeymoon. So, you're going to be stuck inside until someone calls the fire department.

You search your pockets for your phone and realize that you must've left it downstairs when you were searching for the keycard to access the elevator.

The day has barely started, but boy, do you hope that it's going to end soon.

"So, um..." Steve starts, thinking of what to say. "Are you scared of the dark?"

"Sort of?" you say unsurely. "I mean, pfft, no. Of course not."

"It's okay to be scared of the dark."

"Ah... yeah. Uh, thanks." Right about now, you're dreaming of digging a hole and going in it, and never coming back out. "So..."

He clears his throat. "Look, um, Y/N?"

You nod, but it dawns on you that he can't see it, so you mutter a 'yeah'. "I'm surprised you even know me," you confess.

"Of course, I do. You're one of the most important people on the team," he says, and you can practically hear the smile in his voice. "Plus, you're..." he trails off, clearing his throat, "nevermind." He clears his throat once more. "What I'm tryna say is, you're doing all this work to make sure that things run smoothly and honestly, the team and I can't thank you enough for it."

You're grateful for the darkness surrounding you, as he would see the blush on your cheeks otherwise. You're occasionally complimented or appreciated for your work, and coming from Captain America himself, you can't say that you don't feel like you're on top of the world.

"But basically... uh..."

You stay quiet, afraid that any word that comes out of your mouth will make things even more awkward or embarrassing, or both.

"I've been meaning to ask you out for a cup of coffee," he blurts out, and you can hear the nervousness interlaced in his words. "I just haven't had the chance to, you know... be alone with you for a moment."

Your heart is pounding against your chest. "I... yeah. I'd like that. A lot. Like, a lot. I, um... okay, I should stop talking now."

Steve chuckles and it's music to your ears. "You're really cute."

You almost choke on your own saliva. "You? A whole specimen and a half? Calling me cute?"

"I'll just pretend like I know what that means," he says sheepishly, "but yes. You're cute, especially when you stumble with your words like that. I think it's endearing."

"Haven't you always been called the least romantic out of the group?" you think aloud, the tension in the room fading away.

"I'm only smooth when it's dark," he says, and you can almost hear the smirk on his lips.

"I, um—"

"Sorry, that was probably too much," he apologizes. "I'm serious about the whole darkness thing, though. When I have to look at you in the eyes later on, I know that I won't be as brave as I am now."

You smile. "That's okay. We can be awkward and shy together."

He laughs. "That's all I want, honestly." He bites his lip, although you can't see it. "Aside from maybe holding your hand?"

You roll your eyes playfully, placing your hand on him, hoping that it's his shoulder your holding on.

"That's my chest, sweetheart."

"Sorry!" you say quickly, flustered. Your cheeks redden even more when you feel his hand holding yours, bringing your interlaced fingers down to the space between you.

You stand in silence, enjoying each other's presence in the dark. After a few seconds, the elevator turns back on. You look at your intertwined hands, smiling up at Steve.

He grins at you, a blush slowly creeping up to his cheeks.

"Final-fucking-ly!" Tony says, watching the surveillance camera, as the whole (not including Steve, of course) team cheers behind him. They're in the control room of the facility. "I'd say that was a huge success! Barton, you owe me fifty bucks for not believing that this would work out."