Pick Up
Pairings: Steve x reader
Warnings: 18+ kidnapping, torture, violence, injuries, blood, male genitalia
Word Count: 3K
Genera: Angst
“C’mon Steve, pick up,” you muttered, holding your phone between your shoulder and ear while you tried to open your apartment door with bags of groceries hanging by your arms. The phone beeped again, sending you straight to his voicemail. Then the key you were attempting to unlock your door with slipped between your fingers and fell to the floor. “You’ve got to be shitting me,” you groaned, rolling your eyes to the back of your head. Sighing, you dropped all the bags onto the floor, keeping one hand on your phone while you bent over to retrieve the key and unlocked the door. As soon as you shoved the door open, you grabbed a handful of bags and clumsily hurried them to your kitchen table, throwing them anywhere you could find space, not caring if they fell out. You once again redialed Steve’s number, putting the phone on speaker as you stumbled back over to your doorway to grab the rest of the groceries and bring them inside. As you set the rest of the bags down on the table, your phone beeped again, sending you to his voicemail. Sighing, you left a voicemail.
“Hey Steve, I just got home from the grocery store, so uh, once you get this maybe let me know if you still wanna come over tonight, alright?”
You hung up and shoved your phone in the back pocket of your jeans while you put away the groceries. Your apartment was a decent size, not too big or small, which was why you felt you lucked out with it. After all the groceries were put away, you took a deep breath and walked over to the small sofa you had. You flopped down onto it, soon getting lost in thought. Of course, your head immediately goes to Steve. He thinks you should just get rid of your apartment and move to the compound with him, but as much as you would love to do that, it’s never felt like the right time. Steve and the rest of the Avengers are gone a lot, always on missions saving humanity, something you could never do. You didn’t have any super-soldier serum running through your blood or any mutations or powers. These last couple of months have been hard not only on Steve, but on the rest of the team as well. With the rise in crime lately, they’ve been gone a lot and to you spending your time alone in the empty tower will be a little too lonely but that’s one of Steve’s reasons why you should move in because then he’ll know that you’re safe at the tower. Work had felt extra long today, and all you wanted to do when you got home was to slip into a nice relaxing bubble bath and let the worries of the day slip away. Of course, that didn't happen as you had forgotten you needed to head to the market to get groceries, as you weren't about to have to take out for the fourth night in a row. Now, as you lay sprawled out on the couch, you could care less about that nice bath. All you wanted now was for Steve to come over. Being in his presence would help calm you down, but as of right now, it didn't seem like he would be coming over anytime soon. Last night he had suggested having pasta for dinner, but of course, you were all out of food. Grumbling to yourself, you pulled your body up off the couch and start making dinner. Even if Steve didn't come over tonight, at least you would have leftovers for some other time. You started pulling out the ingredients you needed for dinner when a knock on your door caught your attention. Maybe it was Steve? Maybe his phone had died? Multiple thoughts raced through your mind as you walked over to the door and unlocked it, swinging it open. Strangely, there was no one there. You could have sworn you had heard a knock on your door. Suddenly, your vision went black.
Steve was having a rough day, to say the least. It all started when he woke up late due to his alarm not going off because his phone was dead. He shoved the charging cable into his phone and got changed into sweats and a tee shirt to go on his morning run. He had almost made it back to the compound when he slipped and fell in a puddle of water from the rain the night before. Soaking wet now, he picked himself up and walked the rest of the way back to the tower, where he sauntered back to his quarters and started the shower, only to have it be freezing cold. Damn Natasha, she must have used up all the hot water on his floor again. As he stripped off his sopping wet clothes, JARVIS informed him that there was a meeting taking place with Director Fury in 15 minutes and he was to be present. Steve let out a grunt as he put on dry clothes and headed to the kitchen to grab a quick bite to eat. Once he got down to the kitchen, he realized he had forgotten his phone in his room. Steve retreated and grabbed his phone before rushing back down to grab a quick cup of now cold coffee and head to the meeting. Steve was the last one to take a seat as Director Fury began debriefing them on a new mission that they would embark on after the meeting was over. After finding out it would be an all-day event, Steve was about to text you, only to look down at his phone and realize it was still dead. He must have not plugged it in all the way. All-day long Steve had been busy, not having the time to charge his phone and text you. Along with piloting the quinjet, he also was the leader of his group, calling out orders and trying not to get himself killed. Soon time seemed to slip from him and once he found himself on the quinjet, it was already late afternoon and he had forgotten all about his phone.
"Hey, have you checked in on Y/N recently?" his best friend Bucky asked him once the autopilot was on, cruising through the sky. Steve's eyes grew large as he had forgotten about you.
"Shit," he whispered out before grabbing his cell phone out of one of the pockets on his pants. "Fuck, it's dead," Steve told Bucky, letting out a groan and rolling his head back.
"Here, you can borrow mine to call her. I'm sure she's okay, though I don't know if you'll be once she's done with you." Bucky joked to Steve as he handed him his phone. Steve thanked Bucky before walking back to the end of the quinjet to call your number, only you didn't answer him. Steve shrugs his shoulders as he walks back over to Bucky to give him his phone back. "No answer?" Bucky asks.
"No," Steve says, shaking his head and looking down at his feet. "She always answers her phone."
"I'm sure she's just busy doing something else," Bucky says, resting a hand on Steve's shoulder.
When Steve gets back to the compound, the first thing he does is plug in his phone and make sure it's charging before going into his voicemails and seeing all the messages you had sent him. He knows he's going to get an ear full from you tonight. Steve rests on the side of his bed as he presses play on his phone.
“Hey Steve, I just got home from the grocery store, so uh, once you get this maybe let me know if you still wanna come over tonight, alright?”
Steve smiles down at his phone, loving the way her voice sounds even though the poor quality speaker. Not caring if he's a sweaty mess, Steve makes his way outside to hail a taxi to your apartment. He just wants to see you after what a long day it's been. Maybe a nice relaxing shower with you would help a few things, too. When he reaches your apartment building, he bounds up the stairs to your loft before reaching your door and giving it a gentle knock. After a few seconds, he knocks again, harder this time. Maybe you didn't hear him? When you still have yet to answer the door, Steve tries the doorknob, finding it ajar. He pushes the door open, calling out your name and scanning the loft.
"Y/N! I'm here!" He yells out, waiting for an answer from your sweet delicate voice or to see you rounding a corner. When your absence continues to grow, Steve's lips turn into a frown, walking over to your kitchen to see a few ingredients set out for pasta. He carefully makes his way through the rest of your apartment, checking your bedroom and bathroom in case you were in there, but no such luck. Trying to remain calm, he takes out his phone, dialing her cell and waiting for her to hopefully pick up. His heart sinks when he hears her phone ringing before looking down to find it on the floor. The screen cracked. "Oh God Y/N..." he mutters, bending down to grab her phone. He holds it delicately in his large hand, admiring her lock screen that showed a photo of the two of them. Suddenly, his phone buzzes in his pocket. Quickly he answers it, puzzled by why the caller ID was unknown. "Hello?" A robotic voice greets his ears as he listens to the phone.
"Come to the warehouse or she'll be killed by midnight." It repeated the message twice before clicking off. Without even thinking twice, Steve is off, running down the back alley behind your apartment building to the warehouse he knows you'll be.
Your head lolls to the side as you let out a strangled groan at the sharp stabbing pain that seems to be coming from inside your head. Weakly, you try to open your eyes, only to be met with darkness. Were you blind? What had happened? The last thing you remembered was opening your door to your apartment expecting to see Steve there, but then, nothing. You try to remain calm as you attempt to listen to your surroundings. It's quiet, but not silent. If you strain your ears hard enough, you can hear the quiet buzz of New York traffic in the distance. You try to move your hands but find out that they are bound to a chair, along with your feet. Steve had always told you if anything were to happen to you, you just had to stall for as long as you could until he or one of the other avengers came to rescue you. When he had initially told you this, you had joked that if that ever were the case, you would just annoy them until they had to let you go. Unfortunately, it didn't seem like there was anyone here to annoy. That also meant that no one could kill you, as Steve had not found your joke to be funny and told you they would probably just kill you. You turned your head this way and that, trying to focus on any other sounds. Suddenly you heard a gruff voice from above you call out.
"Lookie here! She seems to be awake!" the loud male voice boomed as you hear him clamber down some metal stairs and walk over to stand in front of you. "How’d ya sleep, sweetheart?" You cringe at the nickname coming off the disgusting man's tongue before you can suddenly see again. You blink your eyes rapidly, trying to take in your surroundings. It seems like you are in some kind of run-down, abandoned warehouse. The wooden planks lining the walls have holes in them, some of them knocked out completely. The one window you see is broken with a heavy layer of dust coating it. You look up to see a metal balcony surrounding the area and in the far corner, a set of stairs leading up to the second floor. The dirt floor is covered in grime, along with your bound legs and feet. The man in front of you smiles. His lips curl up in a slimy grin that shows off his yellow rotting teeth. His hair is a brown, matted, greasy mess, and he smells of rotting garbage. You glanced behind him to see two other men stationed at the front of the warehouse where the main entrance must be. Guns rested firmly in their grip as their eyes peer straight at you and your tormentor. "Not much of a talker, are ya, girl?" The man sarcastically asks before raising his filthy hand and slapping you across the cheek. Your head whips to the side as you let out a harsh breath, knowing a red handprint will soon take its place. "You better learn to answer me when I'm talking to ya!" the man says, grabbing a fist full of your hair and yanking your head back as his spit flies in your face. Your eyes well up with tears, but you refuse to let this man have the satisfaction of seeing you cry. "Otherwise, things might get a little... nasty," he says, raising his other hand to show you the small dagger he's holding, before running it smoothly against your cheek. You let out a quiet whimper as he slowly removes the knife to stand back up, towering above you. "So, sweetheart, what's your name?"
"Y/N." you stutter out, only loud enough for him to hear.
"See, that wasn't so hard." he taunts. You say nothing back as he slowly strides around your chair, twirling the knife between his fingers. "Now I'm sure you know why you're here, so tell me, what is it that you know about Captain America?" You gulp as he rounds the chair once again before stopping in front of you? "Don't tell me I didn't warn ya," he whispers into your ear before he drags the knife down the side of your cheek. You whimper out in pain as you feel the slow trickle of blood run down the side of your cheek. "I know the Captain has feelings for you, that he's been trying to get you to move into the tower with him. Oh, but darling, I am so happy that you haven't." He tells you before bending down so he's only mere inches away from your face. "You're going to be our little prisoner as long as we want you to be. That is, until midnight."
"Why? What's happening at midnight?" you grunt out as he stands back up to his normal height. A smile spreads across his face as he checks his wristwatch, then looks back down at you.
"In 10 minutes, we're going to kill you." Your breath catches in your throat as your eyes tear up. You try to steady your now shivering form, but it's no use. "Oh, don't cry, darling." he frowns, reaching down to wipe a stray tear off your cheek. "Don't worry, me and the boys here are gonna have a little fun with you before your time is up or you could just tell us what we want to know and you'll be on your merry way." The man says, smiling evilly at you. You say nothing as your bottom lip wobbles out as you continue to stare at him. He lets out a low laugh, shaking his head as he walks to stand behind you. "Boys, I believe it's time." the man behind you says as you watch the two guys at the front drop their guns and unbuckle their belts. Now realizing what would happen to you if you didn't talk, you let out a cry for them to stop.
"I'll talk, I'll talk. Please, just don't come any closer." The two guys look toward the man who must be in charge. He must have given them a quick nod as they readjusted their pants, grabbed their guns, and resumed their position by the door. The man comes to stand in front of you, still twirling the knife between his fingers.
"Well, go on," he informs you, gently sliding the knife under your chin as you rear your head back.
"Captain America..." you start, slowly taking your time. "when, when is he," You stop midway through your sentence, taking a deep breath as the man in front of you taps his foot against the ground, getting impatient with you.
"Come on girl, we don't have all day!" He yells in your face, spit flying everywhere.
"Captain America," you start again, "when is he going to get here?" Before you can brace yourself, the man's fist is connecting with your jaw.
"You're making this a lot more difficult than it has to be." he chuckles before motioning for his two men to come over by you. "This girl here's got one dirty mouth, boys. Why don't one of you wash it out for her?" The bigger of the two guys smiles down at you before quickly dropping his gun and unbuckling his pants, pulling out his thick cock. He positions in front of your mouth, but you refuse to open. No way in hell were you letting that disgusting thing in your mouth. Seeing your reluctance, the leader sneers down at you before looking towards his knife and stabbing it into your thigh. You scream out in pain as he yanks it out before pushing his friend in front of you. Afraid of being hurt even more, you slowly open your mouth and close your eyes, praying this was all just a terrible nightmare. Just as you think the stout man is about to stick his cock in your mouth, there’s a loud bang from the other end of the room. Thinking it’s more men coming to get their share of you before your killed, you keep your eyes shut tight, not wanting to see what awaits you once you opened them. You wait for the smear of his salty tip against your lips, but it never comes. When you open your eyes, Steve is standing in front of you, while Bucky has the man pinned up against the wall. The two other guys are dead on the floor. Their throats slit open as blood spill from them.
"Hey Y/N." Steve gently says, tears filling his eyes. He hates seeing you like this. When he and Bucky came crashing in through the door and he saw what those disgusting men were about to do to you, he instantly came up behind the guy who was shoving his weak excuse for a cock toward your face and slit his throat on the spot. Soon taking out the other guy and Bucy took on the other man, fishing for answers about why he had taken you. Steve felt terrible for not finding you earlier. If he had, he could have prevented all of this from happening. You had a deep cut with blood dripping down from your cheek and a large wound in your thigh. You had bruises littering your delicate face and your wrists were rubbed raw from your strain against the rough ropes. Quickly, Steve goes behind you and frees you of your restraints. You let out a whimper as the coarse rope brushes against your sore wrists. He rushes around to untie your ankles as you fall forward into his chest, letting out a sob. He tenderly wraps his arms around your frail form, placing a delicate kiss on your head. "You're okay. I got you. You're safe now." he reassures you. "Can you walk?" he asks as you shake your head no into his shoulder. Your thigh hurts too much and even if you hadn't been stabbed, your body is so fatigued and dehydrated that if you were to stand up, you know you would just fall back down. He moves to pick you up, but you immediately scream out in pain. "I know, I know, but I have to get you back to the tower." Before you know it, your eyes are growing heavy and tired as Steve gazes down at you. "Go to sleep Y/N, you're safe, I got you."
The next time you open your eyes, you're met with bright florescent lights overhead and stark white walls surrounding you. You glance over to see Steve half asleep in an uncomfortable chair. You try to speak, but with your throat so dry only a harsh cough comes out. This causes Steve to open his eyes. He's over by your side in seconds.
"Hey, how are ya feeling?" he asks, eyes scanning over your form.
"Water." you croak out.
"Oh, right." Steve reaches beside him to grab a small cup of water with a straw poking out of it. "Here," he says, bringing it up to your lips. "Drink slowly, don't want your throwing up." he tells you. After a few sips, you rest your head back against the pillow.
"Thank you." You murmur out. Steve looks at you, puzzled, a frown appearing on his lips.
"No, don't thank me. This shouldn't have happened to you. I should have been there sooner. I could have protected you." Steve rambles as a tear slides down his cheek. You take his hands in yours, rubbing your thumb back and forth over his smooth skin.
"You couldn't have known that was going to happen." You calmly tell him.
"No, but I should have. I should have known eventually someone would come for you. I should have protected you better. I should have been there for you. You needed me and I wasn't there."
"Steve, don't put this all on yourself." You tell him as he shakes his head, looking down at your bed sheets, not meeting your eyes.
"You got hurt because of me. You're in pain because of me. How can I even protect you from terrorists like HYDRA when a couple of low lives in Manhattan were able to get to you?"
"I doubt those guys will be after me again anytime soon and if you're nervous that they will, I'll just find a new apartment."
"No, you're staying here with me. No arguing." He tells you sternly as a small tear escapes your eye. "Hey, no more crying." he chuckles at you, wiping the tear away. All you want to do is forget that this day ever happened.
"Steve?" you ask him softly, worried about his reaction.
"Yeah?" he questions, looking down at you.
"Can you, can you hold me? Please?" you ask him.
"Of course." he tells you before gently sliding your body over so he can slide into the hospital bed beside you. Cautiously, he wraps an arm around you as you burrow your head into his chest, your feet tangled up together. "Is your head feeling any better?" he asks, the vibrations from his chest calming your still anxious senses.
"Just heavy." You mumble out as you snuggle closer to him, breathing in his fresh scent. He notices you getting tired once again as your breathing evens out.
"Rest your eyes. Buck and I will move your stuff tomorrow." He tells you gingerly. "I love you Y/N." he whispers out as he brings you closer to him, promising himself that you will always be safe in his arms.
