Warnings: Swearing, don’t translate the russian, and if you do, i warned you.
Summary: you think about Bucky, and re-live the past.
A/N: I wrote this for @barnesrogersvstheworld 1k challenge. congrats on 1k and i hope you enjoy!
Feedback is always welcome and appreciated ;P
(Gif is not mine)
The moon shone brightly across the floor on your bedroom floor. The curtains were flung open hours ago once you discovered that the meteor shower was tonight and not tomorrow as you had planned.
Your phone was playing Bucky’s playlist he had created for the two of you to listen to during the show.
“Come on Doll you can’t enjoy a night without a little music.”
“Fine, but something calm, not what Wilson tries to make you listen to. Rap doesn’t feel right during such an amazing moment.”
He had happily agreed to make something nice and relaxing for you two to share as you wanted the event.
“You know the last time I saw the stars it was after I had fallen off the train,” he had stated calmly. “I remember being cold and tired, so so tired. The pain had been numbed due to the frigid temperature of what was cradling me.”
He looked away from the glass of wine that sat in front of him. The two of you had cuddled up on the couch after dinner to cuddle and watch the stars from the skylight in your shared room.
“I tried to still the pain with the shine and I guess it worked.” His tone sounded regretful, almost guilty like he had taken something special from you by bringing up his past.
“Fuck, doll I think I love you.”
“Y/N?” A voice boomed through the narrow and empty hallway that led to your room.
“Y/N?” The voice called out again before the person let out a sigh and paced over to you.
Steve grabbed the bottle of wine from your hands and took a sip.
“I can’t do it anymore Steve.”
“It’s been five years Y/N, you can’t lose hope yet.”
“But I have Steve, I lost him, I lost my friends, I lost everyone but you it seems. Nat is too busy to talk to me, I am not stable enough to go to a support group, and you aren’t even spending time with me anymore.”
“Y/N that’s not tru-“
“But it is Steve. I’m going to snap I know it. I don’t want you to be there when it happens. So please leave me in peace to wallow in my own self pity for a little bit longer before I do snap.”
The days at Hydra were long and tiring. Train, wat, sleep, brainwash, mission, repeat. Even though The Winter Soldier had become your partner, you were still tired with the routine.
“Почему ты расстроен?”
“Ничего такого.” I responded sternly.
You didn’t remember how or why you were here. But you always remembered him. Bucky. You had dreams about him. Specifically him and you. Soft kisses. Stolen hugs. Secret moments. Those were your favourite dreams. And he was always in your head. The Winter Soldier was like a plague. The complete opposite of Bucky. Bucky was kind and thoughtful, the Winter Soldier was a menace, annoying, and sexy?
You hadn’t noticed the attraction begin until late into your and the Winter Soldier’s partnership. And you didn’t like it.
“я знаю что тебе нужно” he whispered into your ear.
“о да что это?” you replied.
“тебе нужен мой толстый член в твоей крошечной киске” he replied mischievously.
That was a good night.
And you had a steamy relationship after that.
Until he didn’t come back from a mission and sent you a letter to say so. He said he would come back to get you, and he did.
You spent your time running from HYDRA and spending time with Bucky (who you figured out was the Winter Soldier after you were free of the brain washing) the man you were married to before he fell off a train and was presumed dead.
When the two of you decided that you both would join the Avengers, settling down was the last thing on your mind.
Especially when you were called upon to help fight Thanos.
War and fighting was the last thing you two wanted while you were on your second honeymoon (something Sam had said you two needed so you’d stop fucking like rabbits in the entire compound) and you didn’t expect to lose.
You survived, but Bucky didn’t. And you hated yourself for not trying hard enough to protect him.
To save him.
So you faded away after the fight was over.
Drowning yourself in guilty pleasures like alcohol, spending money, and really anything to distract yourself from the truth, you lost the man you loved, and it was your fault.
So when Steve kept sitting next to you, you were surprised.
“I found something while I was in his room yesterday,” Steve said kindly, hoping to restore your mood.
“Yeah, what?” You just wanted to watch the show and not be bothered.
“Here.” Steven stood up, “I’ll be in the kitchen when you are done here.”
He handed you a note and a box, which had your name on it. Cautiously you opened the box, and inside was a beautiful creation.
A ring with your and Bucky’s initials engraved in it, a picture of the two of you from the ‘20s which you have forgotten about, his dog tags which you thought he didn’t have, and the note which laid on top of the box.
You put the dog tags on, and put the photo in your wallet, as to always have it with you.
But what to do with the ring, you opened the note to find out what to do.
“Dearest (Y/N), the love of my life)...”
But before you could finish, you heard a familiar voice.
“Was I interrupting? I thought it was over.”
(I left the note blank so you can imagine what it says ;P)
Summary: A rainy day is just what the two of you need.
A/N: Hi, everyone! I know, I know, this is an anomaly - two oneshots in one week. And they’re both about our favorite little firecracker! Honestly, I just couldn’t wait to post this one. This fic is for @barnesrogersvstheworld‘s 1k writing challenge and my prompt was Rainy Day (it’s also raining where I live as I’m typing this, so of course I have to post it today). I’ve already written a fic for this challenge, Honey, but when Attie released more prompts I just had to get in on it again. And I know how much you love Mr. Steve Rogers, so this one is for you. Anyway, enjoy!
My Masterlist
***
It’s been so long.
So long since you’ve had a day like this - one without the screaming of your alarm and a hurried shower. Without a stressful commute. A boring day at work and rushing to get home. Fleeting texts from him, fear that he won’t come home from a mission.
A day where you could lay around your apartment just outside the city with Steve. A day that allowed to two of you to just be.
You know it must feel longer for him. That his work takes a heavier toll on him than you could ever imagine. That his job wears him out more than he lets anyone know - even you.
But you always see that slump in his shoulders when he visits you after a long mission. You always notice that it takes a few hours before his eyes shine the way they usually do.
This day off should help him. At least you hope it will.
You watch him as he moves around your kitchen. Pulls the whistling kettle off the stove and searches the cupboards for the sugar. Blushes a little when you tell him where it is. Smiles at you and mutters a small, “Thanks, sweetheart.”
A smile stretches across your lips as you curl up further in your window seat. Cut your eyes to the streets outside. Watch the rain fall in sheets around the people and buildings and cars. It’s beautiful, you think. Just like the soldier behind you.
Footsteps approach you after a few minutes. A mug - your favorite - comes into view and lips touch the top of your head. It makes warmth spread within you, even as you sit in the chilled air coming through the window.
“Thank you,” you whisper, looking up at him. He sits down across from you. Leans against the opposite wall of the nook and stretches his legs out, taps your hip with his foot.
“It’s no problem,” he says, taking a sip from his mug. “I like using that kettle. Easier to work than those weird coffee makers at the compound.”
That makes you laugh. You shake your head, turn your eyes down to your cup. “You can use my tea kettle as much as you want,” you remind him. “You’re always welcome here.”
You mean more than the words let on. You’ve wanted to tell him how much you love when he stays with you, how much you love waking up in his warmth for much too long now. But it’s always felt like too intimate a thought to share, even if it’s a thought about him.
He smiles at you, full and genuine and it makes the tightness in your chest fade just a little. Brings your hands up to his lips and mouths against the knuckles, “I know. Thank you.”
“And Bucky is always welcome here, too,” you add, wiggling your eyebrows. “That handsome man can visit me anytime.”
“Very funny,” he mutters. He leans forward, skims his fingers over your side. Chuckles when you squirm and push his hand away, give him a betrayed look. “You asked for it.”
“I’m only teasing. He sure is handsome, but he’s a little old for me.”
He snorts. “That so?”
“Yup,” you answer, smirking behind your mug. “He’s got a friend who’s even more handsome. Little younger, too. Think I’ll stick with him.”
For a long moment, he’s quiet. His eyes never leave you, though, even as you turn your face back toward the rain slicked window.
If it was anyone else, you would have felt uncomfortable. But being with Steve has made you appreciate silence. It’s made you grateful for those lapses in time when there are no jokes to be told, no things to talk about. When there is only the two of you - together in the quiet. Those moments often mean more than the ones filled with chatter.
He breaks the peace after a moment. Says, “I’ve missed this.”
You turn back to him. Cock your head to the side and draw your brows down in question. He’s quick to answer, though, whispering, “I’ve missed this. Being with you like this. With no work or responsibilities to get in the way.”
It’s so sweet, so wonderful and genuine of him to say. Because in the mess of your lives, in the chaos you’ve both found to be normal for your relationship, you sometimes worry that he feels differently. And you feel guilty every time the thought crosses your mind.
But you don’t have to wonder anymore. And that feels good.
The fabric of his pajama pants is soft under your fingers as you let your hand rest on his leg. You turn, set your cup down on the floor below the window seat and look back to him, a small smile on your face.
“I’ve missed this, too.” Your voice is soft, quiet against the pattering of raindrops on the window. “I’ve missed you.”
A light blush dusts his cheeks. He turns his head down. Stares at his lap as you watch a grin stretch across his cheeks. He looks so sweet. So pretty in the gentle light of the rainy day. Looking at him makes you wonder how you got so lucky.
Blue eyes snap up to you when you shiver a little. His toes tap your hip again, his face clouded with concern as he asks, “You cold?”
You nod. Glance down at the blanket wrapped on you and tuck it more firmly around your body.
“I think I can help with that.” You smirk at his words. Laugh as his little grin falls and he rolls his eyes at you. “Get your mind out of the gutter and get over here.”
“So demanding, Steven,” you chide. But you move anyway. Turn your body and lie next to him. Rest your head on his thigh and throw your arm over his lap, curl one of your legs over his.
One hand settles in your hair, cards through the strands and travels down the side of your face. You close your eyes. Hum when fingers trace over your brow. When he pulls the blanket up around your shoulders and over his legs.
“So,” you whisper, nuzzling your cheek against his leg, “what do you want to do today, Rogers?”
He huffs a laugh through his nose. “Nothing,” he says. You look up at him. Notice the way he’s smiling down at you, his bare chest glowing the light coming through the window next to you. “This.”
You relax into him again, let your body curl around his leg. Bring his hand to your lips and place a few light kisses on his knuckles.
“That sounds good to me.”
MAIN TAG LIST:
@solarbarnes II @akamaiden II @my-meant-to-find-blog II @marvelous-avengers II @jack4xx II @buckyforbreakfast II @theglowstickofdestiny II @bucky-at-bedtime II @notimetoblog II @estelgilvala II @teawithbucky II @veronicalei II @part-time-patronus II @thunderous-flower II @thelostverse
Summary - You, Bucky and Steve are on vacation with the rest of the Avengers. After spending the day just the three of you, you decide to go skinny dipping to cool off in the hot Summer’s heat.
Prompt - “Screw it, let’s go it”
Pairing - Stucky X Female Reader
WordCount - 776
Warnings - Polyamorous relationships, mentions of nudity, fluff,
Written for @barnesrogersvstheworld 1k Writing Challenge! Congratulations!
You hadn’t been someone who enjoyed Tony’s extravagant behaviour, until now. Tony had rented out a resort out for all of the Avengers to take some time off, to relax and heal those injuries that lingered in the background reminding you of their presence and thus far the trip had been a raging success.
Bucky and Steve both seemed to be taking full advantage of the isolation. Away from the media, the public constantly asking them for pictures of their autographs, S.H.I.E.L.D demanding they go on a mission on a moments notice.
You were the first one to wake that morning, throwing one of Bucky’s t-shirts over your head walking into the kitchen you decided to surprise your boys with breakfast in the bed. In your relationship, it was typically Steve that prepared breakfast being the early riser out of the three of you.
It took a while to be accustomed to the layout of the kitchen is very different from the one you're used to back in your apartment that you shared together. But eventually, you began to get into a groove and soon you were preparing breakfast quickly and efficiently. You were almost finished and ready to surprise your boys when you felt a pair of strong arms around you. Dammit, you’d been caught.
The cool touch of metal relaxed you instantly, despite being stunned that it wasn’t Steve who had woken up after you. Clearly, Steve was in desperate need of the sleep. In the early stages of your relationship, Bucky was never one to initiate contact however slowly and surely Bucky began to open up to the idea of affection and new things.
Bucky inhaled your scent deeply as he buried his head into your neck pressing gentle kisses along the side of your neck holding your body as close to his body as body.
“Good morning Doll, it looks like you’ve been busy” Running your fingertips over Bucky’s metal arm lovingly.
“I was trying to surprise my two favourite boys with breakfast in bed. However, someone decided he was going to get up.” Turning around in Bucky’s arms, you wrapped your arms loosely around his neck.
“I’m sorry Doll, is there anything I can do to make it up to you?” Bucky pressed several short kisses to your lips before he’d let you reply.
“You could help me carry it in” You didn’t have to speak another word as Bucky began to load himself with the majority of the various dishes that you had prepared for all of you.
Creeping into the spacious bedroom that you, Steve and Bucky had been sharing, you immediately notice Steve sprawled out across the bed the duvet draped over his body.
As quietly as possible, you and Bucky laid down the plates, making sure you had everything you had prepared previously. Crawling onto the bed, you and Bucky began to coax Steve out of his first deep slumber since he’d been in since he woke up from the ice.
“Good morning Captain” Steve slowly began to stir as both of you began to cover Steve in short sweet delicate kisses.
“Good morning to you too, man something’s good” Steve slowly began to lift himself up resting against the headboard rubbing his eyes tiredly.
“Our girl made us breakfast" That earned you a kiss from Steve, he was so appreciative for everything you did for him and Bucky. Each and every day the three of you discovered new things about your relationship.
“Your so good to us doll, now how about we sit here and eat before we figure out what we do for the day.”
The three of you had been going non-stop all day, first, it had been a hike, followed by all three of you going to get massages together, then you went horseback riding before going to dinner.
After such a long day feeling both relaxed and exhausted the three of you decided to take a walk along the shoreline. The soft warm sand squished in between your toes, whilst the sea attempted to touch your feet with its white foam. The day had been brilliant and none of you had felt such tranquillity before.
It was late, the other Avengers were off spending it with either their partners or each other. Nobody had felt like this before. You were away from the world even though it seemed entirely impossible.
“Anyone fancy going skinny dipping?” Bucky suggested almost leaving you and Steve speacheless. Bucky had been relatively confident all day and who were you to stop him, You and Steve both glanced at each other before shrugging.
Warnings: Angst, sadness, injuries, deaths, probably some mild cursing
Prompt: Kiss me five times, lie to me seven, apologize five more.
Summary: 5 kisses, 7 lies, and 5 apologies. Each more significant than the last.
A/N: This is my second submission for my baby’s (@barnesrogersvstheworld) 1k challenge! I hope you all enjoy it, and please let me know what you think! I think I’m gonna post once a week, so stay tuned because I have some exciting things coming!
You leaned back on your hands, and looked up at the stars above, smiling as your eyes instantly found the constellation, Orion. You searched the sky for the other constellations you knew, growing frustrated when the lights of the growing city made it difficult. Your eyes were searching for Sirius when you heard the door to the roof swing open behind you, and you knew it was Bucky without even turning around. You called over your shoulder, “Hey, Buck.”
He plopped down next to you and looks at you with curiosity. “How’d ya know it was me? You didn’t even turn around.”
You turn to look at him and roll your eyes. “Please. You come stompin up here loud enough to wake everyone in the apartments. Steve is much quieter.”
Bucky scoffs. “Yeah, alright.”
You turn back towards the sky and search for Sirius again, and Bucky continues, “What’re you doin up here anyways? Startin to get too bright to find constellations.”
You sigh and turn to him again. “Yeah, I know. I just like finding them. There’s something incredible about picking out constellations in a sky full of dying stars.”
“Show me one, then.”
“Alright.” You point overhead to a trio of stars in a line, and you trace the shape of Orion. “That there is Orion the Hunter. There are a few versions of his story, but my favorite is about him and Diana. Diana loved Orion, and was planning to marry him, but her twin brother Apollo was angry about this. One day Orion was swimming in the ocean, but all you could see of him was his head. So, Apollo pointed Orion out to Diana, pretending that he was an object in the ocean, betting her that she couldn’t hit it. Diana took aim and sent an arrow to Orion with perfect aim, killing him. When his body washed up on shore, she was so upset with her fatal mistake, that she placed him among the stars.”
You turn to look at Bucky, expecting him to be looking up at the stars. You’re surprised to see him looking at you, the blue of his eyes dancing intensity. Suddenly shy you whisper, “What?”
Bucky places his hands on either side of your face before leaning in slowly, giving you enough time to pull away. You close your eyes and melt into him, adoring the soft kisses he places on your lips. When he pulls away, you look at him with a smile. “What was that for?”
“It felt like the right time.”
*
You slam the door to your apartment, before leaning against the door and taking in a shaky breath. You hear Bucky calling your name outside, before he softly knocks on the door.
“C’mon, let me in. We need to talk about this.”
You step back and pull open the door, incredulous. “Talk about this? You already made the decision on your own! Without talking to me. Without talking to Steve. So what’s there to talk about, Bucky? You can’t unenlist.”
Bucky gives you a sad look before asking, “Can I come in? Please?”
You step aside and allow him to walk in, and he takes your hand and leads you to your couch. He sits, pulling you down with him, and whispers, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have enlisted without talking to you and Steve first. I just…it was something had to do.”
You start to protest, but he cuts you off. “And you’re right, I can’t change it now. Which means that you and Steve need to take care of each other, keep each other safe.”
“We will.”
*
You walk back to the apartments, hand in hand with Bucky. You glance at him, noting the small frown on his face. You pull him closer and drape his arm over your shoulder, and he looks down at you and smiles. You smile in return. “He’ll be okay, you know. Steve, I mean. The Army won’t let him in, and I’ll watch over him.”
Bucky nods. “I know. I’m just afraid that he’ll never stop trying. The fact that he tried again tonight, on my last night… I’m worried someone will actually let em join.”
You squeeze his hand in reassurance. “They won’t.”
You’re both silent for a few minutes, continuing home, and your heart drops when you see the apartment building looming in the distance. You whisper, “I can’t believe you’re shipping out in a few hours. Leaving us behind. Leaving me behind.”
“Hey, hey, hey.” Bucky stops and turns you towards him. “The war will be over soon, and I’ll be back before you know it.”
You look up at him in earnest. “Promise me you’ll come back, Bucky.”
“I promise.”
*
“Steve, where is he? I don’t see him!”
Steve turns towards the crowd of newly freed men. “Is there anybody else? We’re looking for a Sergeant James Barnes.”
“There’s an isolation ward in the factory, but no ones’ ever come back from it.”
“All right. The tree line is Northwest, 80 yards past the gate. Get out fast and give em hell. We’ll meet you guys in the clearing with anybody else we find.”
Steve motions for you to follow him, and you stay close to him, watching his back. You both fight through the building, killing any Hydra agents that get in your way. Finally, you reach the isolated side of the building, free from any agents of Hydra. When you round the corner of the hall, you see a small man in a lab, and you both stare at each other in alarm before he turns to run off. You start to chase after him when you hear Steve’s voice calling your name, summoning you into a nearby room. You backtrack to the small room, taking note of the dirty walls, sparse décor, and puddles of…blood. You look up at Steve, who is pulling Bucky up from the lab table he was previously chained to.
You rush forward, tears falling down your face. You stand in front of him, and his eyes scan your face, not sure that you’re really there. When he realizes that you are, you both scramble closer, pulling each other into a desperate kiss.
Steve interrupts the reunion as explosions start to echo around you. “C’mon, we have to go!”
*
You look down at your boots, watching as the mud squishes from beneath them. You didn’t know it was possible to be this cold, this wet, and this filthy, but still be happy. But one look at your fingers threaded through Bucky’s proved to you that it was.
Steve yelled from the other side of Bucky, addressing the rest of the soldiers, “Alright, take 15! Stay alert. Don’t wander far.”
You turn to Bucky and smile, as you gesture to a fallen log nearby. He nods, silent.
You reach the log and sit on it, pulling Bucky down beside you. You pull a container of water from your bag, handing it to him after you take a sip. You watch as his eyes never leave the trees, watching for danger even as he takes a break. He’d been like this since the escape two days ago. Eyes always scanning for danger. Quiet. Withdrawn. You weren’t sure what to do.
“Bucky…” He glances at you when you pause, eyebrows raised, urging you to continue. “What happened to you in Azzano?”
You see him tense up before he replies, “Nothing.”
You sigh. “Bucky, you know you can talk to me.”
He gives you one of his signature smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Nothing, I’m okay, I promise.”
*
You stalk off into the woods, breath fogging in front of you in the cold night air. You let the cold European air cool the hot anger in your blood as you moved away from camp and deeper into the woods. The sound of boots crunching in the snow made you whip around in alarm, gun drawn and pointed at the approaching figure. Bucky’s blue eyes danced under the light of the moon, and his hands were raised in surrender.
“Didn’t mean to scare you.”
You roll your eyes and turn back the way you were originally heading, letting the darkness of the woods swallow you. Bucky jogged to catch up, grabbing your arm to pull you to a stop. “Hey, wait, look at me.”
You turn towards him, arms crossed, face set in anger.
“I’m sorry, okay? I just…I don’t understand why you did all of this. Taking the serum. Coming to Azzano. Joining the Commandos. It’s not safe.”
You roll your eyes again. “I did it for you, you idiot. I made a promise to keep Steve safe while you were gone. That’s why I took the serum. I came to Azzano and joined the Commandos to keep you safe. Because I love you.”
It wasn’t the first time you said ‘I love you’, but something about this moment…it meant more.
*
You watched the snow fall around you, soft flakes landing in your hair and on your clothes. Despite the magic of the mountain, your mouth was set in a frown. Fear and worry settled on your shoulders like a weight. Sensing this, Bucky moved closer to you, grabbing both of your hands in his. He pressed a soft kiss to each palm. “It’s gonna be okay.”
“I should be going with you, Bucky.”
Bucky shakes his head and presses a kiss on one of your knuckles. “It’s gotta be a small team this time, and we need Jones for cover.”
He pulls you closer and wraps his arms around you, burying his head in your hair. He whispers, “Besides, I’ll never leave you again.”
Jones yells out, “We were right. Dr. Zola is on the train. Hydra dispatcher gave him permission to open up the throttle. Wherever he’s going, they must need him bad.”
Bucky pulls away, letting his hand trail down your arm until your hand is in his. He gives it a soft squeeze and flashes you a confident smile before moving over to Steve.
*
“Fire now.”
“But Steve-” Agent Hill begins, only to be cut off by Steve. “Do it! Do it now!”
The canons of the helicarriers fire around you, causing debris to rain down inside. You’re pulling Steve to his feet when Bucky cries out in pain from below. You exchange a look with Steve, before you both climb down and move towards Bucky, lifting the steel beam that has him pinned. He wiggles from beneath it, standing and eyeing you both with skepticism. Steve gasps out, “You know me.”
Bucky pulls back and punches Steve, yelling, “No, I don’t!”
Steve ignores him and continues, “Bucky, you’ve known me your whole life.”
Bucky pulls back and punches Steve again, sending him flying to the ground.
Unable to watch any longer, you pull your gun from your belt and aim it at Bucky, keeping space between the two of you. As Steve struggles to stand behind you, you look at Bucky. “Your name is James Buchanan Barnes.”
He lunges at you as he yells, “Shut up!”
He is straddles over you know, looking down at you with a crazed look in his eyes. You can see the fear and confusion laced throughout his steel blue eyes, and your heart aches for him. Steve moves towards you, intent on pulling Bucky away from you, but Bucky turns and shoots him once in the leg, causing Steve to drop.
You look up at Bucky with sincerity, trying to relay all of your memories together through a look. You whisper, “We were together, Bucky. We were in love.”
“No, we weren’t!” He pulls back and punches you, and you use one of your hands to shield your face from his repeated blows. You use the other to pull a knife from your belt and plunge it into his thigh, heart breaking when you hear him cry out in pain.
Steve makes it over to you again, and he pulls Bucky off of you, before turning back to look at you and yell, “Go! Jump!”
“But, I-“
“GO!”
You obey and turn to jump from the destroyed helicarrier, tears spilling down your cheeks as you hit the Potomac below.
*
You gasp as your head breaks to the surface, grateful for the sir in your lungs. You swim towards the shore, dragging yourself up onto the bank, coughing and spitting up water. When you expel all of the water from your lungs, you roll over onto your back and look at the sky, remembering your first kiss with Bucky while looking at the stars.
You hear someone splashing in the shallow water near your feet, and you lift your head enough to see Bucky dragging Steve from the water. He drops his body next to you, waiting long enough to see Steve coughing up water, still alive. Bucky turns to leave, and you yell out, “Bucky!”
He turns and gives you a sad look before replying, “I’m sorry.”
Before you can protest further, he’s gone.
*
You run up the stairs of the French apartment building, taking them two at a time, praying that this is it. Today’s the day. You reach the landing of the 5th floor and you start jogging down the hall, eyes scanning the numbers quickly. 1555. 1556. 1557!
You stop outside the door and listen, and hearing nothing, speak into the comms. “Steve, it’s silent.”
“Okay, wait for us. Do you hear me? Don’t go in there alone!”
You ignore him and twist the doorknob, surprised to find it unlocked. You push the door open slowly, quietly, revealing a small studio apartment. Empty. You holster your gun and move inside, surveying the room for any sign of him. For any sign of Bucky.
You see dishes all over the countertops, blankets tossed on the couch, a chair centered in the middle of the room, back to the wall. Perfect guard post. You wander into the kitchen, and your eye catches a slip of paper on the counter, near a small coffee pot. You grab it, eyes finding a familiar scrawl.
Stop looking for me. I don’t want you to find me. I don’t care about you anymore.
Steve bursts into the room a second later, Sam standing behind him, weapons drawn. “I told you to-”
You hold up the note, and mutter, “He’s gone.”
*
You glance at Sam and Steve as they move closer together to discuss future plans, and you walk over to Bucky, smiling at him as you turn on the hydraulic press to free his arm. He smiles at you in thanks, and you crouch down in front of him, reaching out to grab his hand. He pulls away and you frown, hurt by the action.
“I’m no good for you. I’m dangerous.”
You shake your head and reach for him again, but he slides his chair back from you, the sound echoing in the warehouse. “No, I mean it. Did you not see what I just did back there? All it took was a few words and I lost control.”
“But Bucky-”
He stands, reaches out and squeezes your hand softly, before saying, “It has to be this way.”
*
You watch as Bucky unbuckles his seatbelt and moves to the back of the Quinjet, and you squeeze Steve’s shoulder as you get up, letting him know you’ve got it. You find Bucky in the back of the Quinjet, head resting in his hands, hair obscuring your view of him. You sit next to him, leaning back against the cool metal of the jet. “They know what they signed up for, Bucky.”
Bucky turns to face you, resting his cheeks in his hands. “They knew they were risking their lives and breaking the law for an assassin with no control over his actions? I’m a killer. A weapon. I’m not worth this.”
You reach out and rest your hand on his thigh, using your thumb to trace circles there. “Hey, you are. You can’t control how Hydra used you. You are not what they tried to make you.”
Bucky doesn’t look convinced, but he doesn’t argue either. He reaches down and places his hand on top of your, lacing your fingers together. He whispers, “I’m sorry. About earlier, being so cold with you.”
“It’s okay. I know you just need time.”
*
“So are we, pal.” Steve descended down the ramp, leaving you and Bucky behind. You start to walk after Steve, moving past Bucky, but he grabs your arm to stop you. When you turn to look at him, you have trouble reading his expression, but he places one hand on your cheek and leaves the other on your arm before leaning in. His eyes search yours, looking for any signs of doubt, and finding none, he closes the space between you, pressing his lips to yours. You feel his doubt, so you grab the front of his uniform, using it to pull you closer together. He deepens the kiss, growing more confident, before pulling away, breathless.
You look at him with a smile and ask, “What was that for?”
“It felt like the right time.”
*
You looked out at the rising sun, admiring its reflection on the river below, breathing in the scent of the wildflowers all around you. The cool morning breeze shifted the grass around you, and with it, the sound of footsteps approaching from behind you. You let him grow closer, waiting in anticipation as he got closer, smiling as his arms wrapped around your waist from behind. He buried his head into the crook of your neck, pressing a kiss there. You hummed in contentment.
“Good morning, white wolf.”
He noted the laughter in your voice at the nickname, and he smiled as he spun you around to face him. “Hey, don’t be jealous just because they didn’t give you a cool nickname.”
You laugh, and his eyes light up at the sound. “I’ll try not to be. No promises, though.”
He pulled you into a kiss, all passion and love. Your breath hitched when his tongue swiped your bottom lip, and he breathed out a laugh. “I could get used to this.”
*
“Where’s the fight?”
“On its way.”
T’Challa nods at you before he departs, leaving you and Bucky to stare at the arm with silent apprehension. You speak up first, “Bucky?”
“Yeah?”
You take a deep breath, trying to keep your tears at bay. “Why does it feel like I’m about to lose you again?”
Bucky turns to you and sees the tears falling down your face, and he grabs you and pulls you into a hug, whispering quiet reassurances into your ear. When your breathing starts to even out, he pulls back and says, “Everything is going to be okay. You’re not going to lose me again.”
You nod, and he squeezes your hand in reassurance before grabbing the case for the arm and leading you back to the hut.
*
“On my signal, open northwest section 17.”
Shuri’s voice is doubtful. “Requesting confirmation, my King. You said open the barrier?”
“On my signal.”
Bucky reaches between you, grabbing your hand. You turn to look at him, fear in your eyes, and he pulls you in for a kiss. It’s desperate. Scared. Full of everything you need to say. He pulls away and smiles, just as T’Challa yells, “Wakanda Forever!”
*
You pull yourself to your feet, watching as Thanos disappears from the woods of Wakanda. You run over to Bucky and help him to his feet, before turning to Steve. Steve is staring at the place Thanos disappeared from, and his head snaps over to Thor. “Where’d he go?”
From behind you, you hear Bucky ask in confusion, “Steve?”
You turn to see part of his arm turning to ask, followed by his legs, and his torso. He turns to look at you, eyes full of fear, looking haunted. The last thing he says you is, “I’m sorry.”
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taglist: @buckybarnesappreciationsociety
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tagging people who might be interested: @sweetboybucky @evanstar @coal000 @goddesspeggycarter
summary: prompt: but you don’t know what it feels like to fall in love with you.
pairing: Steve Rogers x reader
warnings: fluff and love
a/n: this is for @barnesrogersvstheworld 1k celebration! congrats on 1k darling! i saw the prompt and had to bang out the idea before anything else. this really took flight on its own and i’m truly in love with this. enjoy!
There were no words for what it felt like to fall in love with Steve Rogers.
It happened purely by accident at first, as it always does. You didn’t think it was real at first, mistaking the budding warmth you felt whenever he was near for just the knowledge of his protection. Because he protected everyone–that was his job. You felt safe when he was around, it was only natural. Too natural. The stomach flips caused by his smiles and light touches were simply your nerves, you were sure, because he was Captain America and you were in awe whenever he was around.
He was kind, kinder than he should be after spending 70 years frozen in ice and being thawed to a time that was no longer his, stuck in spandex fighting bad guys when he should be settled with a family in a house with a dog. Because he deserved so much more than to continue to fight for a place where he seemed to be an alien, a place that went against everything he and his suit and shield stood for. Safety, integrity, justice for all, freedom.
It was just a crush, you reassured yourself time and time again, just a silly little crush that you pushed down to the deepest part of your gut. You buried it deep under rocks and rubble and never wanted it to make an appearance. Because you were sure it was just a crush and you wanted to crush it before the weight and disappointment of unrequited love crushed you into a million tiny pieces.
So you buried it deep, deep enough that it only poked its head through the rubble in the blush that spread on your cheeks when he complimented you or in the smiles that you shared on a daily basis. You buried it deep enough so that you could try to crush it before it could crush you.
What you didn’t account for in a million years was for it to be set free by Steven Grant Rogers himself.
It came as a shock at first, when he proposed dinner out or “Maybe just relaxing? Just the two of us and some pizza?” Internally you were screaming and giggling but mentally you couldn’t comprehend how America’s Golden Boy wanted to spend his free time with you in anything other than a platonic situation. He saw your dumbfounded expression, the internal puzzle you were figuring out, and in a moment of quiet panic and calming himself down, he took your hands in his and squeezed gently. You finally blinked, snapping out of it to take notice of the oh so tender smile he was giving you.
“Doll, it’s just me.”
And he was. But he was so much more than that.
Because Steve Rogers was flowers for no reason. He was walks in the park, hand in hand, ice cream cones and pretzels. He was art museums and carnival rides and cotton candy. He was a hand on the small of your back, arms wrapped securely around you, a hand on your thigh, fingers intertwined in yours, or a hand anywhere, really. He was soft and tender kisses and he was love at midnight. He was the security blanket at 2am when the world became too much, a steady heartbeat that calmed you back to sleep. He was home cooked meals for dinner and movies and curling up on weeknights. He was Polaroid pictures and sketches and handwritten love letters and sweet nothings in your ear whenever he could. He was sunshine and flowers and safety and security and love.
Falling in love with Steve Rogers was like nothing you’ve ever felt before. Falling in love with Steve Rogers was just that–falling, but seamlessly floating amongst the clouds. Because you couldn’t really continue falling without an end, without hitting something at the bottom, and you couldn’t see an end in sight for this. This wasn’t an abyss, and there was no bottom, no target to hit. Falling wasn’t the right word for loving Steve Rogers. Because you weren’t falling–you fell long, long ago. Now you were just floating.
There were no words for what it felt like to fall in love with him, but there were plenty for what it was like to love him. There were no words to describe what it felt like to fall in love with Steve Rogers, but loving Steve Rogers felt pretty close to heaven.
A/N: I admit that I have never written a polyamorous relationship before and had a bit of trouble getting started on this one, including two rewrites. I am quite new to the writing community (and even newer to the Stucky one), so comments, tips, critiques are all welcome! I hope I have done some justice to the pairing. I hope I did ok with Bucky, he is an odd flower to write. Long live Stucky! Happy 1k @barnesrogersvstheworld!!! #barnesrogers1k
Steve, come home.
You deleted the message and put your phone down. While it’s what you wanted to send, it was selfish and wouldn’t really accomplish anything. Or worse, Steve would drop everything and go through with it. And the world needed Captain America, while only two of you needed Steve Rogers. Cool metal fingers dragged themselves lazily through your hair, massaging your scalp as they went. “What’s wrong, doll?” Bucky asked, voice sluggish. You smiled down at him. His head was pillowed in your lap, exhaustion warring on his face. Bucky had improved tremendously under Shuri’s care and was given the green light to come home after the Accords fiasco was handled. While Steve completely trusted Shuri and T-Challa’s word (and Bucky’s own) on the mental health of his friend, the rest of the newly united team wasn’t completely convinced. And so it happened that Bucky was voluntold to hold down the fort while the others did the heavy lifting. The three of you really weren’t complaining; you liked the company, Steve worried less while you had Bucky for protection (because in Steve’s mind, everyone was after you and that was completely ridiculous), and Bucky was still acclimating to the “don’t shoot to kill” rule. You made a “just set your phaser to stun” joke that went over both of their heads (and honestly most of the other’s as well), but Clint totally got it. “I miss Steve,” you said honestly. “Hmmm.” Bucky hummed, sitting up. “Then I’d better provide you with a proper distraction.” He said, pulling you into his lap. You smiled against his lips. “You’d better.”
You awoke in the middle of the night trapped in a metal embrace, and experience taught you that there was no escape. You smiled to yourself as you listened to his steady breathing in your ear. Peaceful sleep was still something that both men had trouble finding, so when either of them found it you had made it a rule to let them sleep for as long as possible. Hence, the journal perched on the bedside table. You had stopped putting it in the drawer as the movement combined with the sound woke them both up. Instead, there was a pen clipped to the cover and a spiral binding just perfect for grabbing and folding over. You reached for it, needing to get your day on paper. You had kept a written journal since you were little and carried the ritual with you into your adult life. Just like the strawberry pop tarts and that ‘I <3 NY’ t-shirt, the journal was communal. You were a little surprised to see an entry from Steve. Well, less surprised that Steve had written and more surprised that it’d been so long since you had. Bucky wasn’t too keen on sharing his thoughts, preferring his own journal; but you caught him reading it sometimes. The journal was something you and Steve had begun before Bucky joined your relationship and it was something you knew Steve looked forward to. He swore he could see emotion in your handwriting and hated how impersonal text messages felt because of it.
Doll,
I’ll be leaving for a mission shortly, so I don’t have much time. It’s getting harder and harder to leave the two of you behind. But it’s nice, finally having something to come home to; someone waiting for me at the end of the mission. Thanks for taking care of me and Buck. We’re counting on you.
Love always,
Steve
You smiled to yourself. Leave it to Steve to know exactly what you needed to hear.
Steve,
I miss you. You’ll be happy to hear that Bucky has been providing me with plenty of distractions: sleeping in, forgetting a protein shake in the blender and the ensuing explosion covering the kitchen in a fun light green color, and target practice since he insists I learn how to shoot a gun. I think teaching me how to shoot is helping him too, since he’s teaching me how to stop an attacker, not kill them. Oh, and the love making. He’s getting so much better at not bruising me with his metal arm. Anyway, you’d better come home soon. Love you.
Yours always.
It didn’t feel like enough. Sure, you conveyed how you felt, but he wouldn’t see it until he was home. And who knew when that would be. You flipped backwards, rereading all the brightly colored sticky notes you’d saved from previous days:
‘The best thing that’s ever happened to me is you.’ - Steve
‘I love you a latte.’ - Bucky
‘Most of smiles begin with you.’ - Steve
‘You stole a pizza my heart.’ - Bucky
‘I still fall for you every day.’ - Steve
‘I love you from my head tomatoes.’ - Bucky
You grabbed your phone and switched it to silent, so the noise wouldn’t wake Bucky up. You snapped a selfie: half of your face, messy hair, one bare shoulder with Bucky’s nose pressed against it, Bucky’s eye closed in sleep, and more messy hair. You captioned the pic ‘all that’s missing is you’ and sent it to Steve. He responded almost immediately, ‘Can’t wait to share a bed with you and not Sam.’ ‘Yea? Sam not a cuddler?’ you ask, smiling at the ridiculous mental image that comes to mind. ‘He’s a bed hog,’ he replies a few minutes later, ‘and he doesn’t look nearly as cute or comfortable as the two of you. I bet there’s room for me on that bed.’ You snap a second shot of half your bare chest, one metal arm curled around your waist while the other reaches out as if it knows where Steve’s waist is supposed to be but isn’t, and Steve’s pillow doing a terrible impersonation of Steve. It takes him a long time to reply, and when he does it’s just ‘I love you. I swear I’ll be home soon.’ Home. Bucky and I are Steve’s home now. It makes all the time apart worth every second together. Bucky groans, pulling you closer; an indication that he’s waking up. “Com’ere,” he says, voice laced with sleep. You giggle was he pulls you to him and you share a kiss. “…Is that Steve?” he asks, gesturing to my phone. “It is,” you say. He looks at the phone before saying, “You two are adorable. You know the mission should be finished tomorrow right? Two more days, you can make it. Go back to sleep.”
The bed is so warm the next morning. You smile and snuggle further into the chest underneath your face. Featherlight kisses trail down your exposed neck and shoulder. “Morning sunshine,” Bucky says behind you, but when he leans over for a kiss, his kiss never comes despite the distinct sound of smacking lips that follows the motion. “Couldn’t stay away huh?” he says and Steve chuckles in response. “Not with pictures like those,” he says. Your eyes pop open. “Steve!” you cry, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and pulling him towards you for a kiss. He laughs into your mouth, kissing you soft and slow before it builds. “You’re a dangerous woman,” he says as you start to pull at his clothes. “Ain’t she though?” Bucky says, but he’s the one that rips all the buttons with one good tug of his arms. “Is that one of mine?” Steve asks, voice a bit low as he pulls at the shirt you slept in. “It might be. Welcome home,” you say a little breathless. “I like the welcoming party,” he says, “and I can’t wait to sleep in my own bed again.” Bucky chuckles, but you reach for the button on Steve’s pants and undo it. “I can’t guarantee that you’ll be getting much sleep today,” you say, “but tonight when we’re finished with you maybe you will.” Steve’s answering smile is wicked. “Is that a promise, Doll?” You kiss him in response, open-mouthed. He groans, and Bucky’s hands slide around your waist from behind you. When you pull back, Bucky pushes forward and kisses Steve hard and fast, with you crushed between them. Your favorite place, you think. There’s no where else you’d rather be.
Summary: Space and isolation are necessary things at times, but they also blind you to others. (Implied! Reader/Steve Rogers)
Prompt: i gave him the moon and stars, but all he wants is space.
Word Count: +3.6K
Masterlist
A/N: this is now @barnesrogersvstheworld ‘s 1k challenge! i think the prompt worked out both ways, rather than just towards steve. been in a big mood lately, and maybe you could feel it here. i’m not so sure about this much, but i hope you enjoy it -- at least somewhat.
As also, feedback in always appreciated.
It was kind of strange to be the one that people were looking for after so many years of chasing one particular person, but nobody really had your set of skills. No, that wasn’t exactly true, but it was better to deal with something familiar than turn to look into someone else, you might not know -- a stab in the back, a shot in the dark -- your line of work made people paranoid. Tonight, it has you scrutinizing the tall, bearded blond man seated in the back of one of your more regular pubs. The bartender --a stubby, red haired man-- knows your order as he gives you a nod before handing it to you.
You sit there, nursing it the drink, for a good twenty minutes before asking for another one alongside some snacks. You glance at the pub twice over, red bar stools with small laps in every booth though it didn’t help with seeing everyone that was in the place. It had taken you a long time to calm down when you first entered through these doors a few months back, but you had gotten used to it.
However, tonight was a different story, your back was hot with a stare you would rather not look up to meet. You know who it is and you briefly have to wonder if it was Natasha, who always knew where you were (your relationship was like that by now, even if you always rejected her offer), or Wanda who you had meet by accident near a bakery with Vision a few weeks ago.
It was probably Vision, since the Avengers were “officially” back together for some time now since one James Buchanan Barnes had been pardoned and the two leaders had made an awkward but necessary amends. He was probably pulling back the pieces of everything that used to be, not that you were that important to begin with.
“Whiskey, please,” he finally states, as you turn up slightly to see said bearded man -- Steve Rogers, Captain America in the flesh. You sigh and down your own drink in one go, the feeling of not talking and simply returning to your little dingy apartment almost overwhelming you. However, there is something deeper running through your veins, a liquid fire that you hated yourself for, that kept you glued to your seat.
“It’s been awhile,” there’s an odd timber to his voice, which causes you to look at him -- bad idea. Blue eyes are softer than usual and there’s an awkward smile on his face as he keeps looking at you, as if looking for some type of answer. It sends your brain on high alert, as you stiffen up and put your guard up.
“Could you just give me your sales pitch, so I can say no and go home,” you exclaim in annoyance, staring straight ahead, playing with your glass cup, “I really doubt it’s any different from Nat’s, though.”
“I didn’t come for that,” he answers honestly, as your eyes widen. Red alarms going off in your head because the only reason Steve Rogers would come and even consider seeking you out would be for recruitment -- getting back into the game, even though you hadn’t been on his type of battlefield in almost 3 years. Unless, someone else told him something, a breath of air leaves your body as you get up on shaky legs.
“Yeah, no. Not doing this...whatever you want,” you make hand motions between the two of you, while Steve watches patiently, only for you to pay for your drinks and leave. Steve never says or does anything to stop you, as you walk into the chilly Scottish night.
“‘m guessing you’re the man she’s been mulling over,” the bartender, steady and fatherly, ask the sighing blond.
“I guess I am,” is all Steve can say.
2011.
In hindsight, you should have headed May’s warning after Coulson had given you this assignment. You were perfect in everything you did, clean and efficient, but you had a big heart and you often got swept up in Coulson’s old Captain America stories. Don’t let hero worship destroy you, and she had been right in the long haul. Back then, you were just a field agent with the right amount psychological training and connections to Coulson (and Fury) that he wanted you to try to help integrate Steve Rogers back into modern society.
It’s not easy to win Captain America’s trust, and you are never able to in those short months you shared with him. There was anger and resentment underneath that veneer of cold politeness every time you meet him in that mock 1940’s gym. And while, he was never directly angry with you, he never lets you in either -- you’re just there to help him catch up, nothing more.
“So, there still aren’t any flying cars around?” he questions, general curiosity towards the subject as he looks over the detailed notes you had presented to him. From one to three in the afternoon, you would set up in the gym and give him a detailed report on a certain year -- today, you were hitting the 1960’s.
“No, but every few years you hear about Tesla or Stark Industries trying their hands at it,” you explain, almost not noticing how blue eyes flicker at a certain name. You don’t say anything on the matter, not wanting to bring up how Howard Stark died.
“Tesla, the inventor? I thought he died in ‘43,” Steve dodges the subject by asking another question, as you nod.
“The founders of Tesla Inc. named it after the inventor as a homage,” you state as he nods, “But, before we get into Silicon Valley, I should probably go into how the Space Race started.”
His blue eyes light up at the mention of science with a slight quirk of his lip your smile grows a bit more on its own. It’s a small crack in his suit of armor, you could handle that -- just a little more, just a little more and maybe, Steve Rogers could learn to accept this age.
Then, the Battle of New York happens.
“Good morning,” the familiar voice greets as you don’t give him the time of day, better of playing on your computer with what a certain someone had sent you than meeting whatever emotion was directed at you today. It had been two weeks since the night back in Scotland and while your heart played crazy with ideal teen fantasies, your head knew better. You still weren’t sure what he wanted with you and asking Natasha hadn’t help either, though you knew it was probably her who gave your coordinates away this time – in a little coffee shop in Prague as mid-morning slowly approached.
“It’s too early to talk about what you’re selling, Cap,” you murmur before taking a sip of your café latte, as he sits down. You look up for a moment and freeze. He still had the beard accompanied by a brown bomber jacket, that stupid white shirt that is a bit too tight, and aviator glasses. You frown as your heart stutters for a bit, someone knows your likes too well.
“Is Natasha dressing you again?” you say and while it’s supposed to a tease, your flat disinterested tone makes it a bit questionable. There’s a small smile on his face at the statement because you aren’t outright ignoring him anymore – he’ll really have to thank Nat later.
“Something like that,” he admits, but you’re already going back to work. The waiter asks him if he is going to order anything and all he asks for is black coffee. Nothing much is said after that and eventually you finish your work and get up without another word, but it feels like big step in some ways to Steve.
Let her go at her own pace and you’ll see. You’re both stubborn like that.
Natasha really did have some good advice.
2014.
Just tell him already. What’s the harm in that?
Natasha really had some of the worst advice sometimes. The redhead was the first, and only person thus far to have picked on your little crush towards America’s Golden Boy and tried to have you do something about it. However, on your own you were quick to pick that while your relationship with Steve had sobered into a semi-casual friendship. You weren’t stupid not to notice how his eyes fluttered and he smiled a bit more when Nat talked about a certain nurse that lived in his building. You had fallen for all the different sides that you had seen (that he had let you see) of Steve Rogers, and you hated yourself for it.
However, you weren’t needed, the expendable sort of person -- you weren’t like Nat, or even like Sam. You have this epiphany, as you sigh in the waiting room chair rotating your shoulder with a hiss a pain. You were sure you were going to need a cast after fighting your share of disguised HYDRA agents when all hell broke loose on the Triskelion. Hell, you were going to need a new job now too. You close your eyes and just sink in your own murky thoughts, unsure of what to do next.
“How is he doing?” a low voice ask you, as you look up to see blue eyes and a worried smile -- Agent 13, Sharon Carter. Her hair is little matted and there is a small bandage on her right eyebrow, but she still looks better than you -- black eye and busted lip.
“Don’t know,” you mumble because you don’t really know, which is really the larger statement to the present relationship you have with Steve Rogers because while you went on thinking everything was all right, he was out there looking for the Winter Soldier and brought down all of S.H.I.E.L.D down with the helicarriers. You were angry and annoyed, but more with yourself than him. This wasn’t fucking healthy.
“You know, the CIA is recruiting,” Sharon breaks you out of your despairing thoughts, probably thinking that you are more worried about what happens now that your livelihood is gone than your disastrous personal life.
“Thanks, I’ll look into it,” you give her a steady smile, as her name gets called from the other side.
Fury knows that there are two places you don’t go to -- London and Miami. The Floridian city due to a very botched mission that involved a sequin dress and a certain cartel, which Nat still didn’t let you forget when the occasion rose for it. London was more childish, the bad weather fitting your current personality, though you tried to ignore it since this present mission called for it. However, it wasn’t helping that a certain blond man with dark jacket and dark navy suit underneath that, almost as if to match your own dress, is standing next to you. You groan, as he gives you a sheepish smile.
“Nat again?”
“Tony,” he explains, as you frown and make a note to throw away any Stark Tech you might have back in your hotel room. You take a couple of deep breaths before looking at the man standing next to you, noting that you don’t have much of a choice now.
“I guess, you’re my date tonight,” you state, while putting your hands in your coat pockets and thanking whatever force up above that is stopping Steve Rogers from taking off that beard, “I guess, just sit back and look pretty.”
“Aren’t you gonna give me a debrief?” Blue eyes look at you and he can’t help but smile at how gorgeous you look, even though the those red-painted lips of you are forever frowning at him. He gives you a boyish grin, momentarily thinking that this is somewhere else, though in your head he’s with someone else.
“Nope. You’re gonna enjoy the party and I’m gonna do my job,” you declare, quickly running through the rain as you cross the street in high heels, only turning back once to yell at him before disappearing into the building completely, “You ain’t part of this, Steve!”
He knows that you’re hitting him back for everything he had done to you, but somewhere deep down he was also gleeful to hear his name coming from your lips once again, as he follows your lead and tries to make sure you didn’t get killed.
2016.
It wasn’t that your job with the JCAT usually involved going into other countries and chasing after superheroes, but after everything that had gone down in Vienna and your connection to a certain Star Spangled Man, your team leader had sent you on the first plane to get as much data as you could from Agent Ross and Carter. However, as you watched everything go down to hell, Sharon choose to help Steve and he seemed elated at it. Blue clashing with blue as you watched from the behind the vehicle, you didn’t have to be here --you didn’t have to be risking your job and livelihood for a glimpse at the unobtainable-- but, you had wanted to help, even if you weren’t needed.
It’s a look. It’s a kiss, and you do your best to look away -- to let your heart break in silence over the confirmation of many things. Steve leaves with the rest of his faction, no glance in your direction nor a goodbye as Sharon comes back to the car you drove in.
“I--” she starts, and you wonder if in someway it’s the same for her because anything she could have with Steve Rogers just flew out the window due to his dedication to Bucky Barnes and the cry of injustice his friend was suffering after all he had gone through. Maybe, Steve was chasing the little remnants of the past he had because Sharon could have been Peggy once, and Bucky would still be there. However, you aren’t part of the past, even less of the present.
“You would’ve looked cute together,” you say in a hollow voice, as she gives you a tight smile. The both of you get back in the car, ready to face the consequences of your actions.
“You ready?” is all she sees, in these few moments where your heart stutters and resurrects itself, you feel a connection with Sharon Carter that you hadn’t before.
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” you declare with a laugh, but it feels like you’re stating something bigger in the fact that you are ready to move on from Steve Rogers.
He disappears. Sharon gets put under disciplinary probation for a year, and you run the moment Nick Fury appears at your front door.
“You know, I saw him there other day,” Sharon states, testing out the waters as you look at her with an even stare.
In the past two years, you had formed an odd friendship with the CIA Agent, meeting here and there whenever you were in the general vicinity of each other. You had watched each other grow and hardened a little more and Sharon even allowed herself the chance at potential real love, as she had fallen for a British Interpol agent not that long ago, as you had seen from the pictures she had sh0wn you.
“And?” is all you manage to ask, as you stare off ahead into the clear, blue water in front of you. You cock your head to the side, waiting for her voice once more.
“He’s different,” she explains, “Like, he’s finally steady here. Maybe, you should see him again.”
Her suggestion is met with a hum of dissatisfaction, but she starts up again before you can give you own list of reasons as why you weren’t going to do something that she was suggesting, which happened more often that you realized. Maybe, it was just something that happened more frequently now that you were more blunt about your feelings.
“I’m not telling you to do it for him,” Sharon states, as you finally turn to look at her. A small smile on her face, as she states something way too close to your heart, “Do it for yourself, to forgive those emotions I know you hate so much.”
“When did you get so wise, Carter,” you tease and concede in your own way, though it doesn’t mean that you would be searching for Captain America anytime soon, though it was in the back of your head now, and that’s all Sharon really wanted to do.
“I think it runs in the family,” Sharon laughs, as you shake your head.
Too bad, you didn’t know that a certain man would come looking for you instead.
2018.
It was one of those newer things he was getting used to since coming back to New York, taking a day off every couple of weeks and enjoying hanging out with Sam and Bucky. Drink some beers, play some games, and sometimes just swap stories. However, it seems that Steve is feeling something close to nostalgia as Sam and Bucky notice that he keeps going on about more recent stories to around the time shortly after the Avengers had been formed. Both of his friends notice the softness that his face seems to gain around a certain person, one that neither of them had meet, which piques their curiosity even more. However, Bucky can’t help but sense that there is something more at play here.
“So, where this gal now?” Sam questions, as he takes another chug of his beer. The story had been about how she had almost burned the kitchen trying to make dinner which lead to a very wet Steve and her trying to explain everything to Tony.
“She joined the FBI after S.H.I.E.L.D fell, haven’t really heard from her since,” Steve explains as Bucky keeps observing the reaction of his best friend’s face -- wistful and almost dreamy. The blond clears his throat, asking the two if they want anything before he gets up and goes back into the kitchen area.
“She kinda sounds like that woman that was in Vienna,” Sam says shaking his head, already pretty much putting everything together, “The one with Sharon.”
“He’s probably in love with her, and he doesn’t even realize it,” Bucky sighs out in annoyance, “Seventy years and still emotionally constipated.”
“You gonna tell him?” Sam laughs.
“Nah, let him figure it out on his own,” is all Bucky says on the matter, though he is fully aware on how good a super soldier’s hearing can be.
Three months, you’re radio silent for that long, that even Natasha hears nothing. However, she isn’t one to worry because she can personally attest for your skills and while Steve doesn’t doubt you either, it’s those feelings of worry and something else that bring him back to the little Scottish pub -- to ask if you had come back and if the bartender had a way of contacting you. The answer was always no, until one night --near closing-- when he’s sitting closer to the entrance, ready to leave and head back --- that’s when the door opens.
“Vodka, please,” a rusty voice pleads, as blue eyes turn to see a figure taking a seat two down from his. The bartender hisses at the sight of your face -- black eye, busted lips, and the two men can tell that you are probably hiding more injuries underneath that coat and dark clothing that you are wearing. There is a silence between the three of you as the man lines up the small glasses and blue eyes watch you.
“What are you doing here again?” you question before doing your first shot. Steve stays silent as you turn to stare at him.
“I’m not sure what you want, Steve,” you state, confused and bitter at the same time, “But, I’m not the person you knew 3 years ago. Hell, I doubt you are too. I’m not going to reminisce down memory lane with you.”
“That’s not what I came here for,” he states calmly, as you feel a bit of annoyance and that old anger flare up again, like you already know what he wants to for.
“I’m not going back to New York. I like my job as it is now,” you declare defensively thinking that he might be here to recruit you, as he simply nods taking in what you’re saying and enjoying having you next to him, talking like the two of you used to. You take another shot and wince lightly at the burning sensation that it gives your busted lip.
“I’m not asking you to change anything. Just…”Steve pauses for a moment, unsure of how to say what he really wants to, “I just want be friends, be part of your life again. It’s taken me some time realize, but I missed you, alot.”
You stay quiet for a moment, closing your eyes and remembering what Sharon had told you awhile back.
“I...I can do friends,” you smile as best you can before an odd sound escapes your throat, almost like you’re laughing. Steve nods, before taking the seat next to yours.
“Have I ever told how much I hate Miami?” you question in all seriousness, as he starts laughing at how you say it.
“No, but I am guessing there’s a story behind it,” Steve states, smiling behind his own glass.
“Well, ya see. It started with Nat…”
There is space given and space taken, and just maybe one day both of them will realize that there doesn’t need to be any space between both of them and their true feelings.
Prompt: “Sometimes things must break in order for the wishes we’ve longed for the most to come true”
Summary: Reader likes Peter, but he likes Liz
Words: 1.5k
Pairings: Peter x reader
A/N: This is written for @barnesrogersvstheworld writing challenge! I completely forgot to say this, but congrats to 1k followers!! 💖💖
Italics are flashbacks
Part 1
Part 3
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Peter still couldn’t believe that he had lost you. After everything you had been through together, one afternoon and a few words had destroyed your amazing friendship.
At least he still had Ned and aunt May to distract him, but he saw you everyday, struggling to go through it all on your own.
Dark bags were visible under your eyes and it broke his heart all over again to see you walking through the school alone and eating your lunch without anyone sitting at your table.
Ned had to hold him back from just walking over to you more than once, but deep down Peter knew that this was what you wanted.
You needed time and he would give you as much as it required, even if he missed you like crazy.
He was just afraid that it meant forever.
Oh, how he just wanted to hug you when he saw you walking through the school with your head hanging low.
A week after the event May had set Peter down, demanding that he had to tell her what had happened. As much as she wanted to stay out of it for Peters sake, she knew that whatever had happened had to be awful or else you would have already made up.
“I am worried for you and (y/n). You seemed to have so much fun when I came. What happened?”
Peter sighed, kicking off his shoes. He didn’t want to have this conversation. It was embarassing for both of you and he couldn’t guarantee that he wouldn’t break into tears again.
He felt like he had lost you forever and it was killing him.
“I don’t really want to talk about it now”, he tried to brush her off, but May wouldn’t get rid of it that easily.
“But you will talk about it. So sit down and get comfortable.”
Peter knew that it would only cause him more trouble to protest so he let himself sink onto the couch.
“I assume you haven’t talked to (y/n) since the incident”, May began and he nodded. “Can you tell me what got both of you so upset?”, she requested and he saw that she only wanted to help.
If he would snap at her it wouldn’t help any of them. So he sighed and told her the most relevant details, leaving out what he felt would be even more embarassing for you.
May nodded once in a while and Peter actually felt like a burden was taken off his shoulders after he had finished.
“I don’t want to hurt her, but I don’t know what to do”, he ended in a desperate tone, glancing to May for an answer.
Her face was blank, but she seemed deep in thought. “Have you ever really thought about your feelings for her?”, she asked, which caught Peter off-guard.
“What do you mean?”, he wondered. “She’s my best friend.”
“But have you ever thought that maybe she is more than that? Have you ever gave the thought a chance that maybe you like her too?”, May continued.
He shook his head. This was ridiculous. He wasn’t in love with (y/n), was he? “There is Liz”, he argured instead.
“So if you had to choose, who you couldn’t live without. Would you pick Liz or (y/n)?”, May asked him and he shifted uncomfortably.
The answer seemed easy.
Was May really trying to convince him that he had feelings for you, his best friend? That was impossible, he knew you since first grade!
And he had a crush on Liz for ages.
“What’s the point of this?”, he snorted, standing up from the couch. “Why do you want to convince me that I have feelings for (y/n)? She’s my best friend!”
Peter had grown angry. He had hoped for actual advice from his aunt, not these weird questions, which confused him even more.
“Because I know you, Peter”, May tried to calm him.
“I see the way you look at her and how close you are. I hear you talking about her and I know that you would do anything to make her smile right now”, she stated and the anger vanished.
Instead he felt even more confused.
Of course he would want you to smile. He loved the way your eyes lit up and how the happiness was radiating off from you, making him smile too.
But what did May mean? The way he looked at you? The way he talked about you? How close you were? That’s what best friends do, right?
It was normal.
“No we’re-”, he stuttered, but May silenced him.
“Yes, I know you’re best friends, but that doesn’t mean you can’t be more. Friendship is in most of the times the perfect base for a relationship.
Perhaps you should stop telling yourself that (y/n)’s just a friend to you and realize how much she really means to you.”
Peter felt his stomach twist.
After you had told him about your crush on him he had been constantly thinking about you.
Your confession had hit him completely unexpected and unprepared. Not even in a million years he would have come to the conclusion that you could have feelings for him, Peter Parker.
It seemed odd, but sometimes he felt like you were better than him. A better person.
You were always kind and humble, even to people you couldn’t stand.
He admired that in you, but it also scared him. Compared to you he had so many flaws while you seemed perfect.
Deep inside he knew that you weren’t, he had seen you break in front of him multiple times, but he tend to forget that.
How couldn’t he, were you always overwhelming in everything you did.
But then he remembered the afternoon again.
Your broken expression and the tears in your beautiful eyes. He had rejected you. He had caused that reaction of you.
It had been his first instinct to turn you down. Didn’t people always say follow your first instinct?
But what if he had just panicked, acted under pressure? What if May was right and he hadn’t even given you a chance?
He felt swammped with feelings. Despair, confusion, hope, anger, worry- all of his emotions mixed into a complete mess.
This whole conversation was supposed to bring light into the darkness, but instead it confused him even more.
“But Liz”, he tried again and May smirked. “You really don’t want to believe me, do you? I know I’m old, but you can trust my observations”, she chuckled, standing up to prepare dinner.
“Have you ever thought that she might be your excuse to not listen to your feelings? She might be pretty, but have you seen (y/n) in that red sweater? She looks gorgeous in it!”
“She really does”, Peter mumbled, before realizing what had just slipped out of his mouth.
“God, I hate you”, he told May before walking into his room. “I love you too!”, she replied with a laugh.
Peter just wanted to return home from one of his spiderman missions when an idea popped into his head.
Since the talk to his aunt a week ago he was thinking about his feelings non-stop. It all didn’t make sense to him, but he needed to figure them out for both your sakes.
So he tried to concentrate on the situations which first came into his mind.
He could still clearly remember when you had watched a baseball game together. He had gone to buy a cola and when he returned he saw that you weren’t alone anymore.
Two guys had sat down next to you, obviously flirting with you. He couldn’t blame them, after all you were the prettiest girl he had ever seen so it just made sense that guys payed attention to you.
But it still made him furious.
He had walked over as quickly as possible, the rage giving him enough confidence to confront the guys.
“Excuse me!”, he demanded to get their attention. “She is with someone already!”
He could still remember your surprised gaze as well as the blush, which filled your cheeks after the guys had left.
He also remembered when he had seen you dressed for a party. How time had stopped when you walked down the stairs, looking like an angel.
But he was just being a supportive friend, wasn’t he?
Peter swung through the city, the darkness around him covering up his moves. Finally he reached the small building, landing on the roof at the opposite side.
He took his mask off and just sat there, watching the light illuminating your room.
He couldn’t remember how much time had passed, but eventually he saw a figure walking over to the window.
It was you, leaning out to breath the night air one more time before closing the window.
Peter just froze on the roof, praying that you wouldn’t see him.
To his luck you didn’t and returned back into your room, the light dying down soon after.
Peter still stayed there for a while, wondering how his life had been flipped upside down in only two weeks.
How could he tell you about his feelings when he didn’t even knew himself what they meant?
