Part One

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Stupid heart.

Stupid feelings.

Stupid brain for putting you in this situation.

Stupid gorgeous, muscled Super Soldier who just had to be working out right in front of you with his God-like physique and sweat glistening on his handsome brow.

At this point, you had no choice in the matter. You were too far gone. Resistance was futile.

"You know, you could just tell him," muttered the red-headed former assassin beside you.

You scoffed, "Who? About what? I mean, I don't...what're you..."

Unimpressed by your less-than-convincing response, Natasha caught your eye and raised an eyebrow. She knew.

Huffing out a frustrated sigh, you conceded. "I can't do that."

"Why not?"

A snort of laughter escaped you, "Why? Because he's Steve Rogers! Captain Freaking America. It's not gonna happen."

She shrugged, "You never know unless you try."

Returning your focus to the man before you, the thought rattled around in your mind. Standing from the mat where you had been stretching, you grabbed your water bottle and took a swig. The idea of putting yourself out there terrified you, but maybe she had a point.

__________

A drop in the ocean

A change in the weather

I was praying that you and me

might end up together...

After SHIELD was dismantled thanks to Captain America, HYDRA's evil acts were uncovered and you found yourself unemployed. Eventually proven trustworthy and in no way tied with HYDRA, you found a position at Avengers Tower. You weren't out there saving the world, but you worked closely with the Avengers, being the assistant to Agent Maria Hill. You thoroughly enjoyed your job and even more, you were really good at it. Maria trusted you completely and had full confidence that you could handle things whenever she was called away on business.

Although you spent your time behind the scenes, there was a certain grandeur that came with being around a Centenarian Super Soldier, assassins gone good, genius billionaires and demigods. You were on a first name basis with superheroes. That was pretty awesome. There wasn't much need for you to be trained to fight in combat, considering you spent most of your time in an office, but some fighting ability was encouraged. Considering the previous attack on New York City by aliens, you quite literally never knew what might happen in the future.

The gym was open to any employees and Maria was supportive of your ambitions, so she let you take an hour midday a few times a week for training. On your first day at the state-of-the-art training facility, you looked around in awe. There were countless weight machines, cushioned floors for sparring, dumbbells, high-tech treadmills, and many more contraptions that you couldn't even name. Walking up to one, you stood with hands on your hips, head cocked to the side as you tried to decipher it. The machine had pulleys and handles with some sort of weighted plates in the center, but you had no clue how to use it.

"Would you like some help, Y/N?" a confident, deep voice asked behind you.

Whirling around, you found yourself face to face with the Blond Super Soldier you had been crushing on since you started working there almost a year ago, the one and only Steve Rogers.

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