#SIM card meaning I gotta go buy a new one in order to play it :’D

[imaginesbyella]

Who Are The Rogers?

CHAPTER FOUR

Summary: Steve and the reader are an ordinary suburban couple with an ordinary, suburban marriage. Many would say they’re the perfect couple. But all is not as it seems. The reader’s not an immunologist and Steve doesn’t work as an architect. Unbeknown to each other, they’re both extremely dangerous and lethal to the other. Will their love survive to what’s coming to haunt them?

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Title: “Who Are The Rogers?”

Content: Humour / Fluff

Warning: Mild swearing

Word count: 1, 926

A/N: Forth chapter from this amazing and thrilling series. Based on the movie Mr. & Mrs. Smith (starring Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt). Thank you @lost-done for being my beta reader.

Feedback (from any kind) is highly appreciated.

*gif not mine

Chapter one

Chapter two

Chapter three

Chapter four

Chapter five

Sam opened his front door to find a beaten and bloody Steve standing in front of him, having walked all the way here from the river.

“What the hell happened to you?” Sam asked, his eyes darting between the street and him.

“My wife,” he huffed and headed inside ignoring his weary look, leaving Sam at the doorway with his mouth open in shock.

Ignoring him, Steve was too busy thinking about how you had betrayed him. How could you do this to him? He’d let his guard down.

Refusing to take a seat by the breakfast table opposite Sam, who was trying to process all this new information, Steve poured himself a drink with the intention of getting drunk and forgetting what had happened. Unfortunately, reality hit him when he remembered he was unable to get drunk due to the serum.

With a vein popping out of his neck, he told Sam, “She tried to kill me!”

“Yes, she did,” Sam assured, pointing his finger at the supersoldier. “And I’ll tell you what, she would have done it on field too. They all want to do it at the end. At least Y/N got guts and killed you like a man would, but all of them want to do it. Slowly, painfuly and creepingly.” 

“Sam, could you please focus?” Steve asked, tired of hearing his friend ramble about how good you were as an assassin. Sam nodded as if asking for forgiveness. 

“So, how many people do you think she’s killed?” he asked, leaning against his backrest. 

“What do you mean, Sam?” Steve questioned, cocking his head to the side and folding him arms, knowing exactly where this was going. 

Sam got on his feet and poured himself some coffee, looking after a needy Steven Rogers was utterly exhausting. “Well you think she’s killed more people than you saved? I mean she could have. She could have killed way more.” 

But then again, listening to Sam’s questions could be bloody gruelling too. “Ugh, Sam,” Steve groaned in exasperation. 

“Man, how d’you suppose she kept this from you all these years?” 

“Listen, lots of couples have secrets, okay?” he answered, trying to deal with the other Avenger.

Sam had never been angry at Steve. Irritated, occasionally annoyed but never truly angry. Not like this. Still, he kept his usual cool. “No. Lots of couples have dogs. What you’ve got is a freaking Tyrannosaurus Rex.”

They both froze thoughtfully, Steve staring at the table and Sam sipping his cup of coffee before they looked back at each other. Steve took a seat by the table and heaved a deep, long sigh. Soon afterwards, Sam joined him. 

“I can’t believe she lied to me,” Steve muttered, aknowledging what had  happened to him. “I didn’t marry her because she was easy to win over or anything. I married her because I loved her.”

“Well, do you still love her?” He asked, but immediately stopped Steve from answering. “Wait you should sleep on this? It’s two in the morning. You’re both upset.” 

 “Upset? My wife wants to kill me, Sam,” Steve spat, blood boiling under his skin. He grabbed the shaken drink he prepared and drank it. “She fired fifteen shots into my car and drove me off the road into the Hudson!” 

Sam tilted his head to the side, thinking it through. "Okay that's less usual to happen in a marriage. But trust me, right now she's probably as confused as you are. Hurt, maybe. Vulnerable."

"She didn't seem vulnerable," Steve confessed as he headed towards the living room, where he would probably find a laptop. 

"Great talk, man. We should do this more often. It was great talk," Sam said sarcastically from the kitchen, earning an eye roll from Steve.

Steve spotted the electronic device rapidly and grabbed it afterwards, showing it to Sam as if asking for permission. “I’ll borrow this.”

“I like where your head heads, man,” Sam scoffed, and sipped a bit of his black coffee before sighing in exasperation.

You stared at Sarah silently, trying to process the events of the night. How could you have been so utterly stupid as to marry Captain America? 

“What?! Your husband is Captain America?” she asked you as if asking you for confirmation while standing in front of you, open-mouthed.

Not knowing what to say, you just nodded and downed the the shot of gin you had in hand. 

Taking another glass, you groaned in disgust. “Ugh, what the hell did I do?” you asked yourself as you shook your head, swallowing the liquor that you kept getting more of. 

“You did nothing wrong. He interrupted your mission and you made him pay,” Sarah tried to cheer you up. “Here’s the positive side. You don’t love him. You’ll kill him and nobody’s better at this than you are.” 

Although you were the one who gave your heart and soul on the battlefield each day, Sarah was your moral support and you were pretty thankful for that.

“Thank you,” you whispered, raising a brand new shot and downing it while you looked ridiculously destroyed. 

Snatching the glass from your hands, Sarah helped you to get up on your feet. “Okay, I guess that’s enough drinking for today. Take some rest, will you?”

Humming a ‘yes’, you laid back on the sofa of the station. With your mind , you hardly noticed Sarah turn the lights off.

As she walked up the stairs, she glanced at you and sighed. Seeing emotionally destroyed like this was not exactly what she expected to happen to her. 

The entirety of you was hard to distinguish based on how you lied and tricked people for a living. You were capable of convincingly portraying friendly and flirtatious, timid, vulnerable and scared. For the most part, you were also a level-headed, strong-willed and independent woman. 

But the here was the truth: you were still in love with him and you refused to believe it.

“Are you sure you’ll be alright?” asked Sarah as she looked for her security card in her bag.

You nodded once more, speechless.

“Goodnight,” she said and exited the station, leaving you there staring at the ceiling.

Trying to swallow your own lie, you whispered to yourself, “You don’t love him.”

And with that you closed your eyes and fell silently asleep.

Eyes popping open at the sound of the system's alarm, you jumped off of the sofa. and moved to the main monitor. Mouth agape, you watched how red surveillance shots filled the screen. 

You quickly checked floors, halls, walls, yet the building seemed to be clear. 

“You gotta be kidding me,” you cursed through gritted teeth, slamming your fist on the desk. He was here and you were not entirely sure how he had found the place you used as a shelter every day. 

You punched the keys for the ceiling heat sensors with the intention of finding Steve. The program flashed a 3D GRID of the vents, searching for thermal images. Eventually, the system registered a thermal image moving rapidly through the vents. 

Grabbing a gun out the drawer and tucking it in your trousers, you stared up at the ceiling once again, completely silent. As you were waiting for the system to detect your husband's careless movements, you heard your phone chime several times. 

Eventually, you hit the speaker button, still not letting the incoming caller speak to you. 

With a smirk tugging at your lips, you said answered rather sarcastically. “Hi. I thought I told you not to bother me at the office, honey.” 

You spinned in place, eyes still staring at the ceiling. Where is he? 

“But, you’re still Mrs. Rogers,” his husky voice could be heard from the other side of the line. 

“So are a lot of girls, Steve,” you shot back, voice steady and eyebrow raised. 

Chuckling, Steve tried to shake your words off. “Careful, Y/N, I could push this button anywhere, anytime.” 

You found it interesting that Steve had to result to weapons in order to make you dissappear. That exclusively demonstrated how frightened he was of you. Once more, you checked up the ceiling before looking down to the phone and answering sassily, “Baby, you couldn’t find the button with both hands on the map.” 

Steve laid his back against the wall of the vent and laughed softly at your joke. They used to light up his days back then, when you two were still undercover. 

Snapping back to reality, Steve warned, “First and last warning, honey. You need to dissappear. And fast." 

“Are you really expecting me to roll over and play dead?” you replied after a long, heavy sigh. 

"I'm actually expecting you to buy me a new Camaro," he teased, bumping accindentally against the vent's wall. 

Hearing the metalic sound coming from above you, you keyed a comand into the monitor. Quickly, the hard drives got erased and the sim cards, ripped from phones and files were stuffed into an oil drum into which you dropped an incendiary afterwards. 

As the whole station became a growing disaster and Steve dropped down from the ceiling, you grabbed a grappling hook launcher and approached the nearest window. You launched the hook to the building next to yours and secured the weapon on the ceiling. 

Just as Steve turned to look at you, both of you made eye contact with each other. Steve smirked, knowing you weren't going to win this one and started to race towards you. But before he could catch you, you escaped, not before smirking back at him. 

Reaching the window you had just broken to run away from him, he looked out of it for you. He eyed the perimeter and couldn't find you until he heard a female voice calling him 'Coward!'. 

Leaning against the windowframe, he shouted at you, "Chickenshit!" 

Still standing on the ledge of the roof, you looked at him over your shoulder and smiled at his statement. "Language!" you yelled back, knowing how much that phrase irritated him. 

Frozen in his place, Steve just stared at you thoughfully. Should he reply to you? 

After watching a vaguely thoughtful and struggling Steve, which somewhat amused you, you smirked and disappeared into the dark night. 

What was about to happen was not actually a part of your plan.

In a matter of seconds the station was a madhouse. Smoke filled the air, rubble was everywhere, and the area was filled with pounding feet and groans of pain. It turned out your team had hidden a self destruction bomb right under the platform and before Steve had dropped from the ceiling you had activated it.

He looked around, trying to make out anything through the thick smoke and haze of his own pain. He put himself together like a soldier would, and began to look for a way out of the collapsing building.

At first, he pulled on the doors but all of them were previously locked by Sarah. Then he tried opening the emergency doors, but still again they were locked though this time by you.

Exhausted he glanced at the nearest window, which was also his only way out, and sighed in exasperation. “I can’t believe I’m doing this again,” he muttered to himself and broke through the glass and plummeted down to finally hit the ground floor. Then, he got up and started running off before anyone could recognise him.

Steve could already feel that it was raining hell fire and now it was his time to turn the tables. 

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