A bunch of one shots and imagines for the MCU I've created. They have varying lengths, characters, fluff, and pronouns used (usually she/her) so I'll list them at the beginning of each story!
Characters used (some more often than others):
Steve Roge...
POV: You're Steve's love interest (taking the role of Peggy) and you talk to him as he puts the bird under and slips into the ice.
Word Count: 532 Type: Sad I guess, it's not terrible Reader Pronouns: She/her
Your outfit:
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•••
"I gotta put her in the water."
No. The words slipped out of Steve's mouth and over the intercom, straight into your ear. You felt tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. No, this can't happen. "Please don't do this, we have time, we can work it out." "Right now I'm in the middle of nowhere, if I wait any longer a lot of people are going to die."
You shook your head, refusing for the tears to fall. "Y/N, this is my choice." You wiped your eyes, knowing nothing would convince him to bail now. "Y/N." "Yes?" "I'm gonna need a rain check on that dance."
You took a shaky breath and nodded, just to yourself. "All right. A week, next Saturday, at the Storks Club." "You got it." "8:00 on the dot. Don't you dare be late. Understood?" "You know, I still don't know how to dance." "I'll show you how. Just... just be there." "We'll have the band play something slow, I'd hate to step on your-"
The transmission cut out and your heart dropped. You tried to keep your voice steady, but it refused to cooperate. "Steve?" No answer. Your voice got fainter. "Steve?"
You tried again. Still nothing. The Colonel watched you from the corner and you continued to try, tears falling freely now. "Steve.." He was gone. You rested your head in your hands and let out a cry.
You heard the Colonel walk away and you sat there, hoping he would come back on the intercom, hoping he was just playing a trick and was going to be ok, hoping that he'd show up on Saturday, but he never did.
-•-
It had been months since Steve had gone into the ice, and Howard had found nothing but the glowing cube on board the bird.
At the bottom of the ocean, with no sign of Steve.
You had given up hope, and Steve had been given a funeral as he was assumed dead. There was no body in his coffin, just a headstone with words and dates imprinted on it.
Rest In Peace Steven Grant Rogers July 4th, 1918- August 29th, 1945 Loved by all, an American hero
You faced his headstone, left alone for saying your private goodbyes. "You were late." Your voice was shaky, your breath ragged. "What happened to the end of the line?"
You placed a single flower- a lily- on the headstone and stood, wiping the tears from your eyes and brushing yourself off. You looked at the headstone and felt a jumble of emotions. Sadness that he was gone, anger that he didn't show that Saturday, but above all, happiness that he was at peace. Even if the way he went wasn't peaceful. "You may not be here, but I am."
You took one last look and pressed a kiss to your thumb, placing it on the headstone before walking out of the cemetery. A weak, faint smile played on your lips, but only for a moment.
As you walked off, a single raindrop hit your nose and on the headstone, a spot of red lipstick remained on the corner. "Till the end of the line."
