â ËïœĄâàšà§Ë juliaâs favorites â the collection
â ËïœĄâàšà§Ë fandoms â marvel ; criminal minds ; attack on titan ; jujutsu kaisen ; outer banks ; one piece ; bridgerton ; tokyo revengers ; harry potter ; marauders ; genshin impact ; top gun ; top gun: maverick ; call of duty ; haikyuu!! ; my hero academia ; shadow and bone ; shameless ; twilight ; a court of thorns and roses ; dc ; love and deepspace ; throne of glass
â ËïœĄâàšà§Ë writings
âł a court of thorns and roses â azriel ; cassian ; rhysand
guys i am so anxious rn đ”âđ« iâm not gonna lie, i was sort of discouraged from reading and writing bcs i feel so anxious at time i cannot function correctly đ”âđ«
i am so very sorry for posting ab this a lot but itâs literally such an anxiety inducing thing to experience haha i am like in constant fear for my safety and yours đ
Hello. This is @sincerelygxbby / @fictionallygabby / @really-gabby / @gabininomenon / @tbrbyfgabby
I am writing this post to inform you that my account has been hacked (allegedly).
At 11:11 AM (GMT+8) today, a person reached out to me claiming that I had sent them a private message with a link attached. I was unable to screenshot the initial conversation with the blog that reached out to me, since I did not think it would be helpful, but here is the screenshot they sent me of their conversation with âmeâ.
They had filled out the form within the link, and their account had been compromised, so they sent a report ticket to Tumblr, and this was what Tumblr apparently replied.
Considering that I have 12 hours to appeal, I had not received anything from Tumblr 8 hours after this email was sent, but I did not mind. I said I would wait for Tumblr to reach out, so I can proceed with the verification/appeal process.
The original user had allegedly revoked the complaint, but insisted I reached out to the discord user, and so I did.
At first glance, it was sketchy for me already, but considering that I had been reported for fraudulent activities, I reached out to the contact, and they had also claimed that the complainant had revoked their report, but I needed to go through the validation process, or else the case will be a federal case.
I followed through the initial process, which involved changing my email, which was not the smartest choice on my end, but I had been under time pressure. I also sent screenshots of my most recent transactions on my online banking and e-wallets, but there had been nothing that show that I received a large sum of money from somewhere.
That is when the Discord user informed me that the complainant had lost a sum of $832.84, which had raised red flags in my head, because that amount of money amounts to ~â±10,000, and I had not received that amount of money ever.
To proceed with the validation process, the Discord user asked for a monetary deposit of $166.56. Below is the image they had sent meâsaved directly from Discord.
I did not send the money, nor do I plan to until Tumblr Support reaches out to me themselves.
However, I have lost access to my original account, but it had not been suspended, so if âIâ reach out to you with links, asking for anythingâliterally anythingâkindly ignore and/or block the account.
I am trying to regain access, but if I fail to do so, I will start my blog all over again.
Please do understand, and thank you for taking the time to read this lengthy post. Kindly reblog to spread. Thank you.
Tagging for awareness (moots + people I have recently interacted with):
When you got into a relationship with the Steve Rogers, you knew he still held Peggy close to his heart. And you understood. Really, you did. You knew from experience how hard it is to let go of your first love, especially since his story with Peggy was cut off abruptly just when it was just getting there.
You didnât blame him, not one bit. You knew if the roles were reversed, he would have stayed for you too, so you stayed. But looking back, you just wished you had listened to your friends.
Your friends had told you, warned you that it will just end badly for you the moment you told them that Steve was showing interest in you. They had told you to run the other way, but you didnât.
Your relationship with Steve had been... private. No, scratch that, your relationship with Steve was a secret. On his side, at least. You had spent every waking hour telling your friends about him and how he was as a lover. Meanwhile, his team didnât even know you knew each other.
You did run in the same circles and worked in the same field, but you never bumped into him at work, never saw each other in public. He made sure of that. He never sought you out, he made sure to avoid your wing and your department.
You were hurt, of course you were, but he was quick to assure you that it was for your own safety, for your own good. He was quick to pull out the hero card, said the world is watching his every move, said he didnât want you getting caught up in his mess.
And you, a naĂŻve little thing stuck in rose-colored glasses, were quick to forgive him, quick to agree to be his dirty little secret, but looking back, you realized how stupid it all sounded. How incredibly stupid you were to believe him when he told you he didnât want you getting caught up in his messes. You work in the same field, for heavenâs sake. You see what he sees, sometimes even worse. You deal with the same things he does and he had the nerve to tell you he was protecting you, and you had believed him.
And only when you left did you realize that he wasnât protecting you; he just didnât think you were good and strong and competent enough to protect yourself if it all came down to it. He didnât think you could hold your own, like how Peggy could. Or how Peggy did.
You had stayed with Steve for two, almost three years, before the illusion of your so-called relationship was so rudely shattered by Steve himself.
You had been put in the same mission together for the first and last time. You had watched him from behind the crowd, in the corner of the quinjet. You admired him as he worked, almost completely caught up in his element.
Your heart then lurched when his eyes met yours, but then it cracked when you saw the indifference in them, instead of the softness that you were used to, that you were expecting. You didnât pay any mind to it. After all, you two were at work. You had to be professional.
The crowd dispersed around him, moving around the cramped jet as they made the necessary preparations, but you remained standing in the corner, still watching him.
Your heart dropped to your stomach when you saw him pull out the familiar gold chain of the locket, then it broke completely when you saw the longing in his eyes as he stared at the photograph of his past lover.
You watched, but you never made a move to approach him.
Then, the mission successfully finished after long, grueling hours. The teams went to celebrate, but you couldnât bring yourself to do so. Not when you had witnessed his yearning for his dead lover first hand, not when you finally had a confirmation to your suspicions.
Later that night, behind closed doors, you confronted him. You poured your heart out to him, telling him all about the hurt you felt when he pulled out the locket, how you felt like you were competing with someone whoâs six feet under the ground, and how you were losing.
You felt raw and vulnerable as you bared your soul to him. You felt humiliated as you practically begged him to make a space for you in his heart. You felt pity for yourself as you begged to be loved and seen by your supposed lover.
Then, you froze in your spot as he finally broke, towering over you as he told you how he could never love you as much as he lovedâand lovesâPeggy, how you could never even come close to her, and how you were nothing but a mere distraction, ready to be thrown away the moment he deemed you useless.
But then, you thought that it was your fault for believing him.
You shouldâve known that you were no match for her. Not when he buried his heart with her.
Whenever you scroll on TikTok, you would come across videos where the user would ask their followers and viewers to watch their boyfriend for them. You find every video adorable and wholesome, so you decided to try it on your 107-year-old boyfriend, who is currently eating his breakfast alone. Perfect.
You approach your unsuspecting boyfriend with the video already rolling, then you place the phone in front of him. âCan you watch my boyfriend for me while I do my business? Thanks, you guys.â Then youâre gone before he could even get a word in.
He looks back to where you walked off before sighing and pinching the bridge of his nose as he looks over to the camera with his awkward but lovable smile.
âGuess youâre all stuck with me... whoever you are.â His brows then furrow. âWait, are you even there? I donât know. Iâve been getting the hang of these newer technology, but... theyâre tricky, you know?â
He shrugs, eating a spoonful of cereal, his eyes lighting up slightly as he turns his bowl towards the camera. âOreos as cereals.â He snorts.
âI wonder whatâs taking her so long,â he mumbles with a worried frown. âWhat if itâs the time of her month? Sheâll tell me, right?â
But you donât come and somewhere during the video, Steve appears with Sam as they come back from their run. The video becomes more chaotic and noisier with Steve and Sam, but they quickly leave after a few minutes and heâs alone again. And you still hasnât come back.
As the video hit its ten minute mark, you come back with a grin, taking your phone and speaking, âThanks, guys!â
Once the video is turned off, Bucky turns to you with his brows drawn together in concern. âIs it your time of the month?â
Bonus â comments:
User 1: he was nice didnât try to bite 10/10 i will watch again
User 2: he brought friends over when you left is that okay???
User 3: dude!!! i babysat the avengers!!! wait til my friends hear about this
That was odd. No one wouldâve guessed that Bucky Barnes even liked flowers.
What was even odder was that this infinitely grumpy, emotionally constipated, âI hate peopleâ supersoldier â would be capable of flirting.
With the florist.
With you.
âAre we seeing this right?â Yelena whispered, elbowing Alexei as they peered through the shop window after Bucky made them wait outside.Â
They watched as Bucky stood by the counter, leaning in ever so slightly, a charming grin tugging at the corner of his mouth as he watched you wrap a bouquet.
âHeâs smiling,â Alexei muttered, horrified.
Inside, Bucky reached for the bouquet you were tying up, his gloved fingers brushing against yours. You playfully smacked his hand away, laughing. He laughed, too, and that was enough to send Yelena spiraling into an existential crisis.
Yelena squinted. âHeâs flirting.â
Alexei frowned. âBucky does not flirt.â
âI know. Thatâs why Iâm freaking out.â
They watched as you handed him the bouquet, and in return, Bucky gave you a wink. And then he turned, walking out like he hadnât just transformed into a different person.
That was when Yelena, utterly horrified Yelena, caught a flash of gold on your ring finger. She squinted her eyes. It was unmistakable. âWait a secondââ
As soon as he got back to them, Alexei folded his arms. âYou were flirting.â
Bucky scoffed. âI was not.â
âSheâs married!â Yelena accused, pointing dramatically. âShe had a ring! You flirted with a married woman!â
Bucky didnât even blink. He simply shrugged, tucking the bouquet carefully under his arm. âI didnât see a ring.â
âShe was literally wearing itââ
âI didnât see a ring,â Bucky insisted, tugging absentmindedly at the chain around his neckâ the one that held his dog tags, hidden under his shirt.
Yelena and Alexei exchanged a deeply disturbed look.
Bucky Barnes was flirting with a married florist.
What was the world coming to?
â
Bucky knew heâd fucked up the second he stepped back into Thunderbolts HQ.Â
Alexie had just looked confused, while Yelena had been simmering the entire walk back, her arms crossed so tightly over her chest it was a miracle she hadnât snapped a rib.Â
She lasted exactly two seconds before she exploded. âYou are jackass, Barnes!â
Bucky barely had time to sigh before she stomped closer.
âWhatâs so wrong with what I did?â he muttered, placing the bouquet of flowers in an empty vase
Yelena let out an incredulous laugh, pacing in front of him like a caged tiger ready to strike. âWhatâs wrong?â she echoed, her accent thickening with rage. âYou flirted with a married woman! I should punch you in the face on principle!â
From the lounge, John Walker looked up from whatever government-issued nonsense he was pretending to read. His brows immediately furrowed, his eyes twisting into the signature disapproving dad look heâd perfected. âWait, what?â
Ava, who had been drinking tea in the corner, raised an eyebrow. âThis is scandalous,â she murmured, eyes brightening with intrigue.
Alexei, who was now plopped on the couch like some washed-up, Soviet-era king, said, âIf a man had flirted with my wife like that, I would have hunt him down and mount his head on wall.â He crossed his arms, nodding to himself in approval. âAs is tradition.â
Bucky scowled. âI wasnât flirting.â
âOh?â Yelena snorted, âSo you were just undressing her with your eyes for fun, then?â
Bucky rolled his eyes. âThatâs just how I look at people.â
Alexie shook his head. âSo you look at us like that?â
Bucky opened his mouth. Then immediately shut it.
Yelenaâs hands curled into fists. âYeah. Thought so.â
Johnâs arms crossed over his chest in that holier-than-thou stance that he was so famous for. âLook, man, Iâm married. And if someone flirted with my wife, weâd have a problem.â
âOh, fuck off,â Bucky groaned, dragging a hand down his face. âYou guys are making a big deal out of nothing.â
âNothing?â Yelena threw up her hands. âSheâs married, Bucky!â
âOkay, even if I was flirting,â Bucky turned to her, exasperatedâ âI didnât see a ring.â
Yelenaâs hands flew to her head, fingers digging into her scalp like she was resisting the urge to rip out her own hair. âYou probably chose to look away!â
John sighed like a disappointed youth pastor. âThis is unbelievable.â
âNo,â Bucky still insisted, âI didnât see a ring.â
Yelenaâs jaw dropped. âIt was a thick gold band, Barnes. How could you not see it?â
Ava, who was clearly enjoying the drama more than anyone, sighed. âThat is inappropriate behaviour, Barnes.â
Alexei shook his head again, âYou should apologise.â
âIâm not apologising,â Bucky scoffed, âBecause I did nothing wrong.â
His fingers toyed absentmindedly with the chain that led to his dog tags, and Yelena immediately locked onto the movement. Every person has a tell, a habit they did when they were nervous. And being a super spy, Yelena knew this was his.
She narrowed her eyes. âYou are gaslighting us,â she muttered, pacing again like she was mentally weighing the pros and cons of strangling a super soldier.
âI didnât see a ring,â Bucky repeated, his voice steady.
âYouâre lying,â she snapped.
He shrugged, maddeningly casual in all of this chaos. âGuess weâll never know.â
Ava laughed cynically. âI canât tell if youâre a complete scumbag or if this is just really fun for you.â
Bucky just popped a beer from the fridge, flicking the cap off with his metal hand. âWhy not both?â
He took a long sip of his beer, completely unbothered.
And maybe, he looked a little bit too smug.
â
Three weeks later, Bucky led Yelena and John on a mission to take down a high-scale arms dealer.
And, as always, the mission had gone sideways.
It was too late for any shops to be open, too late for anyone with a shred of common sense to be out on the streets.Â
Yelena was bleeding, pressing a torn scrap of fabric against a deep gash on her arm. John had a busted lip and a slight limp. Bucky was sporting a few cuts and bruises himself, but nothing he hadnât shaken off a thousand times before.
âGuys,â Yelena managed a grunt, shifting her grip on her makeshift bandage, âwe need to get ourselves patched up before one of us drops dead.â
âWe ran out of antiseptics back at HQ,â John reminded them.
Yelena groaned, throwing her head back in despair. âSo what are we supposed to do?â She gritted out, âJust bleed out in the street like sad little orphans?â
John scowled. âThatâs a little dramatic.â
Yelena turned and glared at him. âYour face is dramatic.â
Bucky let out a deep breath through his nose, running a hand along his damp hair. He glanced around the street, making sure they werenât being followed before whispering to himself, âGuess weâre doing this now.â
Yelena tilted her head. âDoing what?â
Instead of answering, Bucky turned on his heel and started walking.
John and Yelena gave each other a wary look.
âI donât like when he does that,â John said.
âNo one does,â Yelena agreed, but they both followed anyway.Â
It didnât take long for them to recognise the routeâ ââIt was the neighbourhood where the team usually got coffee.
They rounded the corner, and suddenly John stopped dead in his tracks.
It was a closed floristâthe very one where Bucky had, allegedly, been trying to charm his way into a married womanâs bed.
To Johnâs absolute horror, Bucky walked right up to the door and knocked.
âBucky.â He said, voice strangled. âWhat the hell is this?â
Yelena blinked. âI donât think we need to seduce a married florist to get medical supplies.â
Bucky sighed, rubbing his temples like he was already regretting this decision. He turned to them, leveling them both with a look. âAlright, listen up,â he said through gritted teeth. "The secretâs out now, so you two gotta keep your mouths shut.â
Johnâs brows furrowed. âWhat secret?â
Before Bucky could answer, the door to the flower shop clicked open.
And there you were, standing in the doorway, wrapped in one of Buckyâs hoodies, looking exactly how heâd expected: exasperated but unsurprised. He knew youâd still be up, cataloguing the latest floral shipment for tomorrowâs arrangements.
The second your eyes landed on a bruised and bloodied Bucky, and flanked by two wounded Thunderbolts, no lessâyou let out a sigh.
âJames,â you said knowingly, your voice laced with fond irritation. âWhat did you do?â
Yelena and John froze in their tracks.
James?
James?
No one called Bucky by his first name. No one. Not unless they had a death wish.
Bucky, unfazed, just stepped inside. âWe ran out of antiseptics, honey.â
Yelena and John exchanged a wide-eyed look.
Honey?
You pinched the bridge of your nose. âAgain?â
Bucky shrugged like this was a perfectly normal Thursday night occurrence.
You muttered under your breath, âI shouldâve known this would happen when I married an ex-assassin.â
Oh.
Yelenaâs mouth opened, closed, then opened again. âMarried.â she repeated
John blinked rapidly. âThis is why we can never go to your place?â
Bucky could only shrug. Of course it wasâ they would have seen the evidence of how much love in his home was carved out for just you.
John let out a wheeze.
Yelena pointed between you and Bucky, motioning erratically. âWait. WAIT. Soâso sheâs your wife? She married you?â
Bucky nodded. âYup.â
âLikeâactually married?â
âMhm.â
Yelena gasped, clutching her chest like sheâd been personally betrayed. In a way, she had. âAnd no one knows?â
Bucky thought for a second. âSam does.â
âAnd Joaquin,â you added, trying to be helpful.
Bucky nodded. âRight. Joaquin.â
âOh, and Isaiah and Elijah Bradley.â
âYeah, they were at the wedding.â
âA teenager knew about this,â Johnâs eye twitched, ââand we didnât?â
Bucky could only nod again.
Yelena rubbed a hand down her face, âYou gaslit us,â she accused, jabbing a finger at Bucky. âYou let us believe you were a homewrecker for weeksâwhen you were married the whole time?!â
You snorted, glancing at Bucky, who had the audacity to look smug. âYeah, that sounds like my husband.â
Yelena let out a string of very creative Russian curses.
John looked like he was about to have a stroke.Â
âAll secrets aside,â you said, welcoming the two disoriented Thunderbolts in and locking the door behind you, âItâs good to finally meet you both.â
John still looked like he was buffering. Yelena, on the other hand, was vibrating with adrenaline, looking like she was trying to solve a conspiracy theory in real time.
âThis isâthis is insane,â she muttered, pointing aggressively at Bucky, then at you, then back at Bucky. âYouâreâyouâre so normal.â
You laughed, shaking your head. âIâd like to think so.â
Bucky just hummed. âSheâs perfect.â
Yelena actually sputtered like an old car engine.
John made a noise that was somewhere between a groan and a strangled laugh. This was all too much.
But there wasnât time to let them spiral further. Bucky, gently nudged you toward the others. âTake care of them first, darling. Theyâve got worse injuries.â
You frowned, wanting to protestâbecause, really, Bucky should always be your first priorityâbut your husband was nothing if not stubborn. You knew better than to argue when he had that look in his eyesâ you knew that fighting him on this would only drag things out longer, and right now, time was precious.
You turned your attention to Yelena and John, motioning for them to follow you deeper into the shop. The scent of lavender, roses, and freshly cut stemsâclung to the air as you led them toward the back, where your little work table stood tucked in the corner.
Years of practice had made you quick. You moved with quiet efficiency, gathering supplies from neat shelves: you cut and split an aloe vera plant for burns, grabbed bandages, and a mix of balms youâd perfected over your time tending to Bucky. It wasnât the kind of sterile, military-grade first aid they were used to, but it would have to do for now.
You started tending to Yelenaâs arm, gently dabbing the wound with fresh aloe. She hissed through her teeth before narrowing her eyes at you.
âSo how long has this been a thing?â she demanded. Bucky, now leaning lazily against the counter with his arms crossed, barely spared her a glance. âA while.â
John scoffed, âA while?â
You bit back a grin as you smoothed a bandage over Yelenaâs arm, âThree years.â
Yelenaâs jaw dropped.
âThreeââ She turned to Bucky so fast it was a miracle she didnât give herself whiplash. âYouâve been married for three years?!â
John let out a long, defeated groan,This was simply too much to process. âFuckâs sake.â
Yelena shook her head. âI thought you were a loner who hated people."
Bucky only shrugged, unbothered.Â
You chuckled as you pressed the last piece of medical tape into place on Yelenaâs arm. âAlright, youâre done.â Then, glancing at John, you motioned for him to sit. âYour turn.â
John sighed but still plopped down. You took his hand gently, turning it over to examine his bruised knuckles before moving to his busted lip.
Meanwhile, they kept peppering you with questions, barely giving you room to breathe.
âHow did you meet?â
âHow do you put up with Buckyâs brooding?â
âDoes he ever actually smile?â
At that last one, you paused, dabbing at Johnâs lip carefully. âHe smiles all the time.â
John let out a scoff. âNo, he doesnât.â
You glanced over at Bucky, knowing he showed that part of him to you and no one else. âOh, he does.â
And then, finally, it was Buckyâs turn.
You turned to him, your brows knitting together as you studied the little cuts on his cheek, the dried blood near his brows. He looked a little tired, a little worn around the edges.Â
Your fingers found his chin, tilting his face toward you as you inspected the damage. Your touch was so featherlight, so incredibly careful. There was no missing the way your thumb brushed over his cheekboneâ how incredibly gentle it was.
âYou shouldâve let me do you first,â you murmured, half-scolding, half-concerned.
Buckyâs lips curved into a small smile, a flicker of mischief lighting his tired blue eyes. âThatâs exactly what you said last night, sweetheart.â
John choked.
Yelena groaned, grabbing the nearest pillow from the nearest chair and hurling it at Buckyâs head. âYou two are disgusting.â
Bucky caught the pillow effortlessly, giving her a smug grin before setting it aside. When his eyes found yours again, his shit-eating grin turned⊠lovely. The tension in his brows eased as you dabbed gently at his cut.Â
For all the blood, for all the bruises, you handled him like he was glass.
And then, without thinking, you leaned in.
It was meant to be a brief kissâ a quick reassurance, a way of saying Iâve got you. But the moment your lips brushed his, you couldnât help but linger.
Your fingers curled instinctively against his chin. His hand found your waist without hesitation, as if he needed you closer. As if the world shrank down to just the two of you.Â
John and Yelena exchanged a look, the previous horror of their teammate hiding a secret wife momentarily forgotten because this was⊠weirdly cute.
You giggled as you pulled away, seeing Bucky looking at you like you hung the moon for him.Â
âAnywhere else?â you asked, brushing your thumb over his lips.
Bucky hesitated just for a second. Then, a little sheepishly, he said, âGot a cut on my ribs.â
You exhaled, shaking your head. Of course he did. Before he could argue, you reached for the hem of his shirt and tugged.
âOff,â you said simply.
Bucky huffed but didnât fight you. He lifted his arms, letting you strip the fabric from his skin, and goddamn.
Bucky, half-naked, was unfairly, ridiculously beautiful. Even now, even after all this time, seeing him like this still knocked the breath from your lungs. His body was a roadmap of battles fought and survived, scars carved into the expanse of his chest and ribs that told stories only he could say.Â
John made a strangled sound, somewhere between âJesus Christâ and âI need to leave the room,â but you ignored him completely. Yelena let out a dramatic sigh and whispered âthey are one second away from sucking each otherâs face off,â to herself.
You tuned them both out, fingers dragging carefully over Buckyâs ribs, searching for the wound. When you found a thin jagged cut just below his ribsâ you sighed softer this time and reached for the aloe.
âYou need to stop getting hurt, my love,â you said, smoothing the cool gel over his skin.
Buckyâs voice came quieter. âLucky I have someone to take care of me, then.â
And thatâs when Yelena finally noticed it.
The thin chain around Buckyâs neckâone sheâd always assumed was just for his dog tagsâheld something else, too.
A ring.
A simple wedding band that matched yours, worn from years of resting against his skin.
She blinked, realisation hitting her like a freight train. Oh.
Thatâs why he always played with it.
Every time Bucky was nervous, every time he was uncertain, his fingers would move to that chainânot just to fiddle with his tags, but to remind himself of you.
Maybe he wasnât a complete jackass after all.
-end.
Note: Hope this doesn't bite me in the ass when the movie comes out.
Steve Rogers had always loved and will always love Margaret âPeggyâ Carter. For him, no one will ever compare to who she was as a soldier, as a woman, and as the one who held his heart. Or so he thought until he was pulled out of the ice and was thrusted into the world he knew nothing about, until he met you.
You were a rookie agent when Steve was pulled out of the ice and when he woke, Nick Fury assigned you your first missionâto help Captain America get back on his feet and adjust to his new world.
You and Steve didnât hit it off immediately. In fact, you got off on the wrong foot. With your wits contradicting each otherâs, and your smart mouth, you were bound to disagree. You would bicker at every waking hour you spent together, but he would be an absolute angel to everyone else, fueling your irritation further and so you gave the same energy back, maybe even more.
You directed all your anger onto him. At every moment, you were ready to reply with something snarky. You were always short with him, but you were the opposite to everybody else. In your head, you were giving him a dose of his own medicine.
And he let you because in his head, that was better. Your distance was so much better, not because he despised you, but because he saw her in you.
He saw her in the way you moved, the way you handled yourself with confidence and strength, the way you put deserving people in their places. But then as if a bucket of cold water was dumped on him and he realized.
He realized that everything was different, that she was gone. And for the first time, he saw you, and it just became so much worse because you were here, you were real, you were alive. You were someone he could hurt.
Then, not even a year after he was assigned to you, Fury reassigned you another mission, and the both of you were internally grateful. You were grateful to have been given a break from his insufferable ass, and he was grateful to have been distanced from you before his heart positively combusted.
Months passed right before his eyes and before he knew it, it was 2012. Fury sought him out for the Avengers Initiative and once again, he was Captain America.
With the shit that had gone down since he became an Avenger, he was always almost too busy to let his mind wander to you. Then, he found out that Peggy was alive. She was in this world and all of a sudden, he felt he had something to hold on to when the world moved too fast. And with his mind occupied with Peggy, you were almost completely wiped from his mind.
Then Peggy died and his world crumbled around him. He had seen it coming for a while. With Peggyâs age, he knew it was bound to happen sooner than later, but it was still a pain he never imagined.
Almost immediately after her death, the accords happened and faster than he could even blink, he was a fugitive, an enemy of the state. Everything went to shit after Peggyâs death and he felt as if he lost control over his own life.
Then you sought him out and took him in. You werenât an Avenger, so you werenât included in the whole mess in Germany, but you were still an agent of SHIELD.
You gave him shelter when he was on the run despite your connection to SHIELD. You were ready to throw everything away for him despite your history.
And during his time on the down low, your feelings started to bloom, seeing him in a new light, seeing him, not as Captain America, but as Steve, the scrawny boy from Brooklyn who wanted to kick bulliesâ asses, but always ended up getting his ass kicked. But neither of you acted on your feelings.
Then all of a sudden, he was being whisked away because apparently, a titan from another planet was planning a universal genocide. They fought, but were unsuccessful.
Half of the world was wiped away and the first thing he thought to do after the battle was to seek you out, so he did. But you werenât there. You werenât in your own home and the only thing left of you was the pile of sand on your kitchen floor and a mixing bowl next to it.
Despite half of the worldâs population being gone, it felt as if the world was moving too fast. Or maybe it was the grief slowing him down. Maybe it was both, but before he even realized, five years had passed and they were all presented a chance at getting half the world back, courtesy of Scott Lang.
With a lot of hiccups and injuries, but thankfully no deaths, they were able to get the world back and the titan was gone. Truly gone.
After the battle, Steve didnât even wait until he was fully recovered to seek you out, and there you were in your house, coping with the fact that you have just lost five years of your life, despite feeling like you have only been gone for no longer than a minute.
He had barged into your home, looking you over before kissing the life out of you and there, something had bloomed.
At first, he was almost ecstatic at the thought that you were finally in his arms safe, sound, and alive. Then, he was scared. You were alive. You were someone the world could take away from him. You were someone he could hurt, and so he kept you a secret. He didnât want to risk the world finding out about Captain Americaâs weakness and ultimately using you against him.
To his relief, you agreed to be his dirty little secret. It was fair, he thought. You got to keep your relationship with him and he got to keep you safe.
But it didnât ease his fear. Despite the world not knowing about you and him, he was still scared. You were still with him and he could still hurt you, unlike Peggy, darling, dearest, dead Peggy.
And so unknowingly, he was pulling away from you and slowly holding on to the memories of Peggy, the memories of the world he knew before everything went to shit.
He knew damn well it was gone, that it didnât exist anymore, but if it wasnât real, if it wasnât here, if it wasnât alive, then he couldnât fuck it up. The world wouldnât be able to take it away from him because it was gone.
But you noticed, of course you did, and he didnât expect anything less. You were a smart woman, his smart woman, and he knew you would catch on, but he didnât expect you to confront him right after that mission. The mission where he found out that Bucky was alive, but he wasnât his Bucky anymore. He was turned into one of HYDRAâs greatest weapon and he was taken because he was someone to Steve Rogers, he was someone to Captain America.
But he was there, he was real, he was alive, just like you are. And like Bucky, you could be taken away and used against him, and he wouldnât know what heâd do if that ever happens, so he pushed you away. He told you lies. He held onto the memories of Peggy like a lifeline in hopes of keeping himself sane as he watched the best thing that ever happened to him crumble right before his eyes.
He watched as you left, unknowingly taking his heart with you.
In your head, his heart was buried with Peggy, completely unaware of the fact that you had taken his heart as you left.
When you got into a relationship with the Steve Rogers, you knew he still held Peggy close to his heart. And you understood. Really, you did. You knew from experience how hard it is to let go of your first love, especially since his story with Peggy was cut off abruptly just when it was just getting there.
You didnât blame him, not one bit. You knew if the roles were reversed, he would have stayed for you too, so you stayed. But looking back, you just wished you had listened to your friends.
Your friends had told you, warned you that it will just end badly for you the moment you told them that Steve was showing interest in you. They had told you to run the other way, but you didnât.
Your relationship with Steve had been... private. No, scratch that, your relationship with Steve was a secret. On his side, at least. You had spent every waking hour telling your friends about him and how he was as a lover. Meanwhile, his team didnât even know you knew each other.
You did run in the same circles and worked in the same field, but you never bumped into him at work, never saw each other in public. He made sure of that. He never sought you out, he made sure to avoid your wing and your department.
You were hurt, of course you were, but he was quick to assure you that it was for your own safety, for your own good. He was quick to pull out the hero card, said the world is watching his every move, said he didnât want you getting caught up in his mess.
And you, a naĂŻve little thing stuck in rose-colored glasses, were quick to forgive him, quick to agree to be his dirty little secret, but looking back, you realized how stupid it all sounded. How incredibly stupid you were to believe him when he told you he didnât want you getting caught up in his messes. You work in the same field, for heavenâs sake. You see what he sees, sometimes even worse. You deal with the same things he does and he had the nerve to tell you he was protecting you, and you had believed him.
And only when you left did you realize that he wasnât protecting you; he just didnât think you were good and strong and competent enough to protect yourself if it all came down to it. He didnât think you could hold your own, like how Peggy could. Or how Peggy did.
You had stayed with Steve for two, almost three years, before the illusion of your so-called relationship was so rudely shattered by Steve himself.
You had been put in the same mission together for the first and last time. You had watched him from behind the crowd, in the corner of the quinjet. You admired him as he worked, almost completely caught up in his element.
Your heart then lurched when his eyes met yours, but then it cracked when you saw the indifference in them, instead of the softness that you were used to, that you were expecting. You didnât pay any mind to it. After all, you two were at work. You had to be professional.
The crowd dispersed around him, moving around the cramped jet as they made the necessary preparations, but you remained standing in the corner, still watching him.
Your heart dropped to your stomach when you saw him pull out the familiar gold chain of the locket, then it broke completely when you saw the longing in his eyes as he stared at the photograph of his past lover.
You watched, but you never made a move to approach him.
Then, the mission successfully finished after long, grueling hours. The teams went to celebrate, but you couldnât bring yourself to do so. Not when you had witnessed his yearning for his dead lover first hand, not when you finally had a confirmation to your suspicions.
Later that night, behind closed doors, you confronted him. You poured your heart out to him, telling him all about the hurt you felt when he pulled out the locket, how you felt like you were competing with someone whoâs six feet under the ground, and how you were losing.
You felt raw and vulnerable as you bared your soul to him. You felt humiliated as you practically begged him to make a space for you in his heart. You felt pity for yourself as you begged to be loved and seen by your supposed lover.
Then, you froze in your spot as he finally broke, towering over you as he told you how he could never love you as much as he lovedâand lovesâPeggy, how you could never even come close to her, and how you were nothing but a mere distraction, ready to be thrown away the moment he deemed you useless.
But then, you thought that it was your fault for believing him.
You shouldâve known that you were no match for her. Not when he buried his heart with her.
