The Memories of Night | 18+

𝗣𝗿𝗼𝗹𝗼𝗴𝘂𝗲

𝗦𝘁𝗲𝘃𝗲

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𝗢𝗻𝗲 𝗠𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗵 𝗔𝗴𝗼

New York was supposed to be safe.

It's the one place I could blend into the shadows, I wasn't Captain America. I was just your average man, I could go to a bar, flirt with a pretty girl, take her home and then never have to see her again when I return to Washington. For the first time, I was able to be normal. I wasn't a sick scrawny kid like in the 40's and I wasn't a science experiment either. When I was in New York, I was just Steve.

It was a dreary night when I met her, the tavern was illuminated in a warm honey-colored glow. She was so pretty, so smart. I was entranced.

"What's your name?" I asked, twirling a piece of her light brown hair around my finger.

She sucked her plump bottom lip between her teeth, my eyes instantly falling to her plush, kissable lips, and when she released it, it was the prettiest shade of rose I've ever seen. "Astrid," her voice was a whisper in the wind, delicate and sweet just like her, "Mom loved Pippi Longstocking as a kid, so I'm named after the author."

She was speaking, and I was drunk on her words. "Fascinating," my hand trailed down her arm, taking her hand in mine. "Follow me."

That's how we ended up in the tavern's bathroom that night, her body was a map I memorized while I licked at her skin, her breathless gasps were music to my ears as I devoured her body. I still remember the birthmark on her hip in the shape of a star. I remember how she felt as I pushed her to the edge of blinding pleasure and shoved her over. I remember basking in her sex-induced haze and knowing I would never have an experience like that again. Not that I wanted to.

But now I was back in Washington, a clipboard in my hand as I went over the training schedule for the new recruits. I was going to need a new mission partner when Nat left on an assignment in a few weeks.

"I've narrowed it down to about eight candidates," Natasha explained from beside me as we walked down the hallway of the triskeleton. "All of their parents were former CIA or FBI, they were raised for this, anyone who isn't accepted as your mission partner goes on one or the strike teams."

"Or you could stay," I teased, seeing Natasha roll her eyes, "I'm kidding, thank you, your help is ever appreciated."

Natasha grinned, pressing her badge to the gym door, the hydraulics hissing as the doors opened. When I looked up from the clipboard I froze because there on the mat training with Rumlow was Astrid, the girl I thought I'd never see again.

New York was supposed to be safe. I thought New York was safe.

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