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buckybarneswannabe · 2 months

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On Steve Rogers, loss, and loneliness

Unlike some of the other characters, Steve's hurt isn't as plain to the eye. His demeanour is usually one of stoicism and optimism, and it is easy to forget that his story is steeped in loss and loneliness.

Steve's introduction highlighted how alone he was - an orphan, armed with a list of ailments, and hiding behind a newspaper to avoid small chat with other recruits. When rejected by the recruitment centre, Steve shrugs and heads to watch a movie - alone.

Steve is a loner, we are shown, and then just as abruptly - perhaps just like the way it had happened many years ago - Bucky crashes into Steve's world and hooks an arm around his shoulders and noisily talks about an expo and dispels all of Steve's melancholic air. Steve is a loner, except for Bucky.

But Bucky is now leaving to go to war.

Steve is used to being stoic, because there were no adults around him to spoil him. He is used to being buoyant, because Sarah taught him how to pick himself up and carry on. Steve is used facing the empty house and lonely silence -- except for Bucky, who filled his room with chatter, "We can put the couch cushions on the floor, like when we were kids."

So when we hear the anxious strain in his voice as he is informed by Bucky that he is leaving -- it also becomes plain that Steve is also used to loss, or the threat of loss shadowing him, everyday.

In his short life, he has already lost so much. He has lost his health (my thought is he was probably healthier in his early childhood until he caught scarlet fever, and then his health got a lot worse after that). He has lost his father, and all the security of having a family breadwinner. He has lost his mother - to long hours of work and eventually to the disease she was battling against.

What he dreads would happen, does happen. Life seems to have a way of chasing him down like that. Sarah gets sick, and his fear of coming home to find her gone...one day inevitably comes true.

At his darkest moment, Bucky squeezes his shoulder and promises, "You don't have to do it (alone). I'm with you to the end of the line."

It's just enough for Steve to square his shoulders and push on, as Sarah had always taught him to do. Deep inside - possibly buried so deep that he can barely put it into words, he knows that he pulled through because "Even when I had nothing, I had Bucky."

I'm going to pause here and emphasise how deeply lonely (and young) Steve was, and how, naturally, the only stable presence — ie Bucky — in his life, through periods of terrible grief and uncertainty, is going to be such a deep-rooted emotional foundation for him (regardless of how you ship).

When the draft does come for Bucky, it's not just Bucky who's unhappy, it's Steve who's also aghast. Suddenly, the possibility of losing his last bastion looms over him, and he remembers the fear and anxiety and the devastating grief of losing Sarah. But it is also a war that needs fighting - so he comes up with a solution: sign himself up. He can't keep Bucky from the war, but he wants to fight alongside him. Besides Bucky, what else does he have to lose?

"Men are laying down their lives, I have no right to do any less. That's what you don't understand, Bucky."

He says this angrily, because the words he can't say aloud are, "You are laying down your life, Bucky, and I might never see you again, and I can't go through all that again, not by myself."

When he hears about the 107th being captured, he has to go. He is saving Bucky, sure, but he is also saving himself, because the pillar, the lifebuoy, the harness that has kept him afloat all those years is Bucky, and he's terrified of sinking.

The serum makes him taller and more women pause to smile at him, but he is still incredibly alone. He sits alone during break, he draws alone in his book, he runs off alone and none of the USO girls even notices until it's his turn on stage.

But Bucky notices him immediately, and says, "I thought you were smaller," and, "Did it hurt?"

Steve doesn't really believe in miracles. His whole life feels like one bad luck after another, even if he forces one foot in front of another and keeps marching on. But maybe at that moment, he feels like Bucky is his miracle. Bucky, who always seems to notice when he's alone and pulls him into his social circle. Bucky, who had seen him lose his dad and Sarah and promised him the end of the line. Bucky, who he - and all the commanders - thought was dead, pulls through and gives him another promise - that he would follow the little guy back into war.

When Steve is finally thrust into the frontline, the losses keeps mounting, man after man are falling, condolence letter after letter is being written. And then towards the end of 1944, the tides seem to finally turn. German forces are waning, the Allied forces are advancing, and quietly, secretly, Steve dreams of home.

And that dream dies with Bucky.

"Honour the dignity of his choice," he is told, but he can't shake off the guilt.

He pushes himself forward, step by dragging step. Nazi Germany is falling. He is taking down Hydra with his own hands…and at the end, he buries them all in the ocean with himself.

His is sinking, but he isn’t afraid, because he is going where all the people who mattered are waiting.

And he is denied even that.

He opens his eyes to a world he doesn’t recognise. They tell him they had won the war.

But no one wants to speak with him about what was lost.

A folder of old photos, the museum of unmoving murals, the silent movies of a smile he would never see again.

He thought he had lost all there was to lose, but somehow life always seem to find something else to take.

What we see of off-duty Steve in the modern world is once again a figure of loneliness. He goes to the gym alone, he goes for a ride on the train alone, he sits at the cafe alone, he goes for runs alone, he goes to the museum alone.

Only during those solitary moments he could truly be Steve Rogers, instead of trying to meet everyone's expectations of Captain America. He is just shy of 27 years old, but suddenly, he can no longer lay claim to youth. Only a dream ago he was "just a kid from Brooklyn", and now he's an "old-fashioned" (as per Coulson) "older fellow" (as per Tony).

He's in the history books, he's on the television, he's in the classrooms; everyone knows of Captain America, but Steve Rogers is lost.

He had been willing to lose his life on the Valkyrie, but what he lost was every living connection and his own identity.

"Must have freaked you out, coming home after the whole defrosting thing," the friendly man says to him on their first meeting, but Sam only knows half of it.

The too soft bed and the too quiet room is one thing, the unshakeable nightmares another, but the worst of it is -- this isn't home.

He is marooned in a place that bears eerie resemblance to the world he knew, without being familiar.

Until the moment Bucky's mask comes off.

It's like the anchor dropping. He's now got a connection tethering him to this strange place, someone with "shared experience" that means he is no longer alone, and he is no longer a ghost forgotten by the seventy years of lost time.

"He doesn't know you."

"He will."

He has to believe that Bucky will, because Bucky is proof that Steve Rogers exists.

And once again, Bucky is his miracle. On the brink of killing them both, Bucky reels back from his brainwashing and hauls them both to safety.

Even if Bucky leaves after that, he's left behind something Steve hasn't had for a long time -- hope, and belonging.

"Family, stability. The guy who wanted all that went in the ice seventy-five years ago," he says to Tony as he prepares to meet the ragged team of enhanced people that is to become the Avengers. "I'm home."

Stoic and buoyant as he has always been, Steve sets to work building that home for himself. Gradually, we see Steve open up. He forms new connections and new friendships, he talks about his vulnerabilities with people he trusts, and he reclaims his own identity. He looks for Bucky, and waits until Bucky is ready to build that home for himself.

Until it is once again blown apart by the end of Infinity War - he loses not just Bucky, the anchor to his past, but the new family he has made apart from Natasha.

That's why it makes sense that Steve, not Tony, is the one working so hard to reverse the Snap. His family was 5 years ago, Tony's family is now. The people who rallied behind Steve and not Captain America, the people who followed him after he dropped the shield, the people with whom he no longer needed to be endlessly lonely and tirelessly stoic and who loved him for who Steve Rogers was, they all vanished in the Snap.

So even if there was only a small hope, Steve wants them back.

And that's why his decision to leave everything he had built, the sacrifices he had made to bring them back, in order to go into a life of incredibly loneliness and deception is still the dumbest narrative faux pas in the MCU.

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buckybarneswannabe · 2 months

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seb stan: “I played it as goodbye. What I was playing was, ‘Okay, I know he’s going, and he’s not going to come back. I can’t talk about it, because if I do, then they’re going to try and stop him from doing what he wants to do. So, I’ve gotta support that.’”

so in other words u played it like ur best friend was abandoning you but you couldn’t stop him and that left u visibly anguished....... k that makes it so much better

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buckybarneswannabe · 2 months

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i wish we had seen more of Bucky. Don’t get me wrong, he was hands down the best part of the movie (besides my number one warrior king T’challa, ofc), but there wasn’t much of substance between him and Steve, and what there was might as well have been stamped with NO HOMO in big red letters.

There should’ve been a scene where you see Bucky pissed. Not at Tony, not at Zemo, at Steve.

“What is wrong with you?” Bucky demands, whirling on him as soon as they find a place to catch their breath. He can see the apprehension in Steve’s eyes, the question of whether or not Bucky is in his right mind. He honestly doesn’t know. He hasn’t known since before the train.

“Buck - ”

“You were safe!” Bucky goes on, fighting to keep his movements contained. He knows anything sudden will spook Steve but he’s barely managing to keep a lid on his anger as it is. How could Steve be so stupid? Bucky is dangerous. He is a fucking weapon with the target of all targets painted on his back and Steve just waltzed into the line of fire in the most recognizable getup on the planet. “Christ, Steve, why did you think I stayed away? You shouldn’t be in the same country as me.”

“They were coming to kill you, Bucky,” Steve says and Bucky’s heart breaks in time with Steve’s voice.

“You should have let them,” Bucky snarls and immediately wants to take the words back as shock and horror cross Steve’s face in equal measure.

“I couldn’t,” he says, wringing his hands helplessly. “I had to - ”

“You had to what, Steve?” Bucky demands, his metal arm whirring like it always does when he gets like this. Fuck somehow he managed to forget what a moron Steve is. A stubborn, bullheaded, fucking moron, but God Bucky hates that he’s the reason for that look in Steve’s blue eyes. “Did you think I wanted to stay here? That I wanted to be halfway across the world from you? I couldn’t come home, Stevie, because then you’d get hurt too.” He pauses, trying to collect himself but after two years of only seeing Steve through newspaper clippings and the pictures in his book, after trying to keep tabs on the Avengers - just in case, he always told himself - having Steve here in the flesh is almost too much. There’s something wrong with his chest and the corners of his eyes are prickling like someone’s thrown sand in them.

Steve doesn’t say a word, just holds his hands out, telegraphing his movements. Bucky doesn’t move as Steve comes closer, and those warm, muscular arms wrap around his shoulders and pull him close. There’s a beat and then Bucky melts into the hug, clutching at Steve like he’s a goddamn lifeline and Bucky is drowning.

“I just wanted to be with you again, you fuckin’ jerk,” Steve whispers into his neck and then Bucky can’t help the tears that snake down his cheeks, wetting the fabric of Steve’s uniform.

“Had to keep you safe, punk,” Bucky replies in a hoarse whisper. “That’s my job, remember? Your ma always told me to look after you.” Steve pulls them apart after a few long moments, his eyes searching Bucky’s face.

“Now it’s my turn.”

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buckybarneswannabe · 2 months

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he’s me

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buckybarneswannabe · 2 months

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My stucky fic!!

#ao3 writer

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buckybarneswannabe · 2 months

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My stucky fic!!

#stucky #steve rogers #bucky barnes #fanfic #ao3 #english is not my first language #writing

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buckybarneswannabe · 2 months

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Hey y’all self promoting

by Buckyandsteve_3000

Bucky teases Steve for always listening to the same 1940s music. Bucky gets Steve to listen to Lana del Rey… and long story short dancing becomes angsty love confessions.

Words: 571, Chapters: 2/2, Language: English

Fandoms: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Marvel, Captain America (Movies)

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: M/M

Characters: Steve Rogers, James “Bucky” Barnes

Relationships: James “Bucky” Barnes/Steve Rogers

Additional Tags: Dancing, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes Feels, Title from a Lana Del Rey Song, Inspired by Lana Del Rey Songs, Love Confessions, Idiots in Love, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, I’m Bad At Tagging, Angst and Feels, Memories, Gay, Gay Panic

#stucky #ao3feed #steve rogers #bucky barnes #marvel fanfiction #no beta we die like men #fanfiction #mcu #angst #lana del rey

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buckybarneswannabe · 3 months

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Fic for @griminker

Steve and Bucky slow dance and it end up in an argument revealing feelings from

Years past .

—————————————————————————————————————

Are you still listening to the same song?” Bucky asked Steve walking into his room. Hearing the farmiliar hum of frank Sinatra fill the room . Steve chuckled, his gaze remaining fixed on the skyline of Brooklyn through the window.

"You still remember that?" he replied, amusement lacing his voice.

Turning away from the view, he faced Bucky with a nostalgic smile. "Old habits die hard, I guess."

“Why only 40s music though” Bucky asks, “You know more music has been created since then.”

Steve chuckled again, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I know, I know," he said, "but there's something about the 40s music...it's like comfort food. Reminds me of home, before all this."

He shrugged with a lopsided grin. "Plus, have you heard some of the modern songs? They're... interesting”

“I think it’s good” Bucky remarks, shrugging.

Steve's eyebrows shot up in mock surprise.

"You do, huh?" he said, leaning against the windowsill. "Bucky Barnes, man out of time, likes modern music. Times have truly changed."

He smirked. "You going to try to get me to listen to some then?"

“If ya want” Bucky said with a smile.

Steve let out a dramatic sigh, feigning reluctance.

"Alright, lay it on me then," he said, gesturing for Bucky to start. He crossed his arms again, a playful challenge in his eyes. "Let's see if you can convert me to the ways of modern music."

“Not converting you just showing you” Bucky says siting next to Steve and opening his phone that stark had given him, he was still figuring out how to use it but Natasha had helped him make his way around Spotify.

Steve watched as Bucky opened his phone, the glow of the screen casting a faint light on his face. He had to admit, he was a bit intrigued. He nodded for Bucky to continue.

"Alright, show me what you've got, Buck," he said, turning his full attention to the phone.

“I’ll start you out easy, you know Lana del Rey?” Buck asks.

Steve shook his head, his expression a mix of curiosity and slight skepticism. "Lana... del Ray?" he repeated, the name foreign on his lips. "Can't say I've heard of her. Go on, play something."

“Okay pic a song, do you want ‘Margret’ or ‘chemtrails over country clubs?” Bucky replies.

"Hmm... Let's go with 'Chemtrails over Country Clubs,'" Steve replied, his curiosity piqued. He leaned back against the wall, ready to listen.

As the music began, Steve's attention fixated on the soft melody that filled the room. It was definitely different from the 40s tunes he was used to but something about the singer reminded him of Sinatra. but there was something captivating about it. The beat was slow, mellow, and almost dreamlike. The lyrics were poetic, and the singer's voice was sultry yet soothing.

“What do you think? I chose her cause she sounds old timey in this song i guess” Bucky says to Steve.

Steve nodded, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Yeah, I can see what you mean," he said. "She's got that old-Hollywood vibe about her. It's different, but it's... nice."

He was genuinely enjoying the music. It felt like a bridge between the past and the present, something familiar yet new. He looked at Bucky, a smirk tugging at his lips.

"Alright, maybe you're onto something here."

“It’s slow dance music. You know” Bucky says nudging Steve.

Steve chuckled, shaking his head in playful disbelief. "Slow dance music, huh?"

He considered Bucky's words for a moment before feigning a look of horror. "You're not about to ask me to dance, are you?" he asked, trying to keep a straight face.

“No..” Bucky says quietly because honestly, he was going to ask. It’s not like it would be a crazy ask they used to dance in the cold air of their old apartment to kitty kaling and Judy garland. For gods sake, Bucky even taught Steve how to dance because he couldn’t get a single girl at the bar to give him a chance.

Steve noticed the way Bucky's voice trailed off, the hint of hesitation. He saw the flicker of something in Bucky's eyes that he recognized all too well.

"You sure?" Steve asked, pushing off the wall to face Bucky. There was a gentle knowing smile on his face, a smile that said he understood more than he was letting on.

"Because I might be persuaded to dance for old times' sake," he added, his tone lighter than it should be for the sudden intimacy in the room.

Bucky stared at Steve for a moment, surprise clear in his eyes. It was like Steve had read his mind. But instead of backing down, Bucky's gaze turned just as determined.

"Yeah," he said, more sure of himself now. "I'm sure."

Steve chuckled at his friend's stubbornness. He pushed off the window sill and extended a hand to Bucky. "Alright, then, old buddy," he said, his voice warm. "Just try not to step on my toes."

Bucky took Steve's hand, and for a moment, they were just frozen like that, the two friends and war veterans, holding each other's hands like teenagers ready to dance. Despite everything they had endured, this moment felt oddly simple and comforting.

Steve gently pulled Bucky closer, guiding him to the empty part of the room. "Remember those old dances we used to do in our apartment?" he asked as he placed a hand on Bucky's waist.

Steve didn’t miss the slight hitch in Bucky’s breath or the way his body went rigid. He could feel the tension in Bucky’s muscles, the way his chest kept still under Steve’s hand.

Steve didn’t say anything, just waited for Bucky to relax into the dance. He began swaying slowly, his movements smooth and controlled, guiding Bucky into the rhythm.

“Relax,” he murmured, his voice low enough for only Bucky to hear. “It’s just a dance, Buck.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know” whispered Bucky in response.

Steve could still feel the tension in Bucky’s body, but he could also feel him trying to relax. They continued dancing in silence for a few moments, letting the music fill the space between them.

“You know, it kind of makes me laugh,” Steve said, pulling back a bit to look into Bucky’s eyes. “Back then, you used to tell me I didn’t know how to dance. Didn’t have any rhythm you used to say.”

“You didn’t have any” Bucky smirked as he replied.

Steve chuckled at Bucky's blunt response. "Well, maybe not then," he admitted. "But I've learned a thing or two since then."

He gave Bucky a sly smile, his grip on Bucky's hips tightening just a bit. “I can at least manage a slow dance without stepping on my partner’s feet.”

“Partner” Bucky murmurs.

Steve chuckled, sensing the jest in Bucky's tone. "Yeah, partner," he said, his gaze holding Bucky's. "Is that such a funny thought to you?"

He continued the slow, steady rhythm of the dance, keeping Bucky close. The conversation was light, casual, but there was something under the surface that Steve couldn't ignore. The tension in the air felt palpable, and he knew Bucky felt it too.

Suddenly ‘One’ by Metallica starts playing ruining the moment.

Steve looked a bit taken aback as the slow song ended abruptly and a heavy metal track blared through the room, shattering the tranquility of the dance. He pulled back a bit from Bucky, turning his head slightly to look in the direction of the phone.

"What in the—" he murmured, looking back at Bucky with a puzzled expression.

Bucky chuckled at Steve's reaction his own amusement clear on his face. "Stark must have put that on my playlist," he said, reaching for his phone and turning down the volume just a bit.

Steve looked at Bucky with a mixture of confusion and curiosity. "You listen to this kind of music now?" he asked, still a bit bewildered by the sudden shift in sound.

“Sometimes” Bucky replied.

Steve chuckled at Bucky's response, his gaze raking over Bucky's body, noticing the way the other man visibly shivered at the sudden absence of his touch.

"You cold?" he asked, his voice gruff with a hint of amusement. He stepped a bit closer, his hands finding their way back to Bucky's waist.

“Stop.” Bucky suddenly.

Steve raised an eyebrow at Bucky's abrupt response, a slight frown line appearing on his forehead.

"Stop what?" he asked, his hands still resting on Bucky's hips, refusing to let go just yet.

“Don’t do this don’t hold me like that, don’t act like it the same as it was.” Bucky says frantically remembering how dancing before use to always lead to a kiss or something of the sort,and Steve clearly didn’t see Bucky in that way anymore so why go through the pain of false hope.

Steve's grip on Bucky's waist tightened slightly, his expression darkening a shade as he absorbed Bucky's words.

"What are you talking about, Buck...?" he asked, his voice a low rumble. "Act like what is the same as what was? I'm just dancing with a friend."

“Exactly, you are just dancing with your friend, so let go of me” Bucky says sharply.

The words stung a little, but Steve tried to keep his expression neutral. He held onto Bucky for a moment longer, as if debating with himself, before finally relenting and releasing his grip.

He took a step back, creating a small space between them. "Alright, fine," he said, his voice gruff, but there was a hint of hurt beneath it that he couldn’t completely hide. The distance between them felt cold and sudden, a stark contrast to the warmth and comfort that had been between them moments ago.

Steve ran a hand through his hair, his eyes avoiding Bucky’s for a moment, before he spoke. “You know, Bucky, sometimes I don’t understand you at all.”

Steve watched as Bucky grabbed his phone and started searching for another song. The atmosphere in the room had shifted, the easy camaraderie replaced by a certain tension, a distance that neither of them seemed to know how to bridge.

He leaned back against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, and waited for the next song to start, his mind still trying to make sense of Bucky’s sudden shift in mood.

As Bucky put the phone down and the new song started playing, Steve listened to the music for a moment. It was a different track, softer than the one before, but there was something melancholic in its lyrics that felt fitting for the mood.

He looked back at Bucky, trying to ignore the pang in his chest at the thought that maybe Bucky was right, maybe it wasn’t the same anymore.

“So, you like this song?” he asked, the words coming out sounding more indifferent than he intended.

“Mhm” Bucky mumbed Steve could tell Bucky wasn't in a talkative mood. The answer had been curt, almost dismissive. It stung, but Steve tried his best to push the feeling aside.

He shifted against the wall, his gaze fixed on Bucky, the dim light from the window casting shadows on his face. “Can I ask you something?” he said after a moment.

“What”

Steve hesitated for a second, not sure if he should ask. But the question was burning in his mind, and he couldn’t hold it back.

“Are we... alright, Buck?" he asked, his voice soft, almost tentative. “Because sometimes I feel like you... like you’re slipping away, somewhere where I can’t reach you. And I... I don’t understand why.”

Steve’s eyes bore into Bucky’s, his gaze intense and earnest. “Do… do you even like having me around anymore?” he asked, his voice surprisingly soft, almost vulnerable.

Bucky was caught off guard by the question. Steve's voice was not its usual firm, confident self but tender and vulnerable in a way Bucky hadn’t heard in ages. He swallowed, feeling his throat constricting suddenly.

A thousand thoughts and feelings raced through his mind, memories of their shared past, the pain and suffering they had endured, the fights, the joy, the sorrow. It all came crashing back, and it suddenly felt like too much to bear.

He looked down, avoiding Steve’s eyes, his voice quiet when he spoke. “Of course I do.”

Steve's shoulders sagged in relief at Bucky’s response, his breath releasing in a shaky exhale, almost like he had been holding it for too long. He took a step closer, his hand almost automatically reaching out to touch Bucky’s arm, but he stopped himself midway.

His eyes searched Bucky’s face, his expression a mix of confusion and hurt. “Then why do you keep pushing me away?” he asked, the question quiet, pleading.

Bucky could feel the sincerity in Steve's tone, the helplessness, desperation. It was like a punch in the gut.

He didn’t know how to answer that question, didn’t want to answer. Because the truth was... He wanted Steve close, always had, always would. But it was hard, so hard, to allow himself that vulnerability, especially because they had never discussed what they were now, they clearly wherent the same.

Bucky swallowed, running a hand through his hair, his voice low and hoarse. “It's just... complicated, Stevie.”

Steve felt his heart clench at Bucky’s words. “Complicated?” he repeated, his voice thick with barely contained emotion. “We fought side by side, Bucky. We’ve been through hell together. And you’re telling me it’s complicated?”

He stepped closer, his gaze fixated on Bucky’s face. “What is so complicated that you can’t even... even let me hold you when we dance?”

“No steve its not, we’re not”

Steve furrowed his brow, confusion and hurt clear in his eyes. “What do you mean, ‘we’re not’?” he asked, his voice low.

He took another step forward, standing just inches away from Bucky now. He could smell the familiar scent of Bucky’s shampoo, could feel the heat radiating off his body.

“Buck, I... I miss you,” he said, his voice little more than a whisper. “I miss my best friend. Why can’t we just… be like we were?”

“Because we are so different now” Bucky replies.

Steve let out a shaky exhale, his eyes searching Bucky’s face, trying to find any trace of the man he used to know.

“We’ve changed, sure,” he said, his voice gruff. “I know I’m not the same guy you first met, and neither are you. But… But we’re still us, Buck.”

He took another tentative step forward, his hand twitching with the need to reach out to Bucky, to touch him, to bring him closer. “Aren’t we?”

“No” Bucky replies softly.

Steve’s heart wrenched at the bluntness of Bucky’s response.

“No?” he repeated, his voice hoarse, “How can you say that? After everything we’ve been through?"

His hands clenched into fists by his sides, the knuckles turning white with the effort to hold himself back. He wanted to yell, to shake Bucky, to make him understand. But he managed to keep his voice steady, even if it threatened to crack with every word.

Bucky took in a breath “We aren’t us anymore….you don’t, before when we danced. God - Steve you don’t even look at me the same”

Steve froze, his eyes widening as Bucky’s words sunk in. He could feel a lump forming in his throat, his heart clenching in his chest.

“What… what do you mean?” he managed to croak out, his voice weak. “Of… of course I look at you the same way. I… I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t do this” Bucky pleaded

Steve could see the pain in Bucky’s eyes, hear the plea in his voice, and it broke his heart. But he couldn’t pretend like everything was fine, couldn’t act like he didn’t understand.

He closed the distance between them, so close now he could count the specks in Bucky’s eyes, could feel the heat of his breath on his skin.

“Buck…” he murmured, his voice a low, agonized rumble. “Why does it sound like you’re saying goodbye?”

“Steve” was all Bucky managed in response.

It was just one word, his name, but the way Bucky said it sent a chill down Steve’s spine.

He wanted to close his eyes, to look away, but he couldn’t. He was trapped, caught in Bucky’s gaze like in a whirlpool, spirally down into a dark unknown.

“Buck…” he tried again, his voice pleading this time, “Please… please don’t do this. Don’t push me away, not again.”

You dont love me anymore” Bucky said with a joyless smile.

Steve's heart plummeted at Bucky's words, shock and pain washing over him like a cold wave.

“What?” he breathed, the syllable barely loud enough to qualify as a word. “No, no, Buck, that’s not true. Of course I…”

He stopped mid-sentence, his words catching in his throat. He swallowed hard, trying to find his voice again, the next words ripping like shards of glass from his mouth. “Why… why would you say that?”

“You know why. Steve you can’t look me in the eye half the time” Bucky replied,his voice breaking

Steve’s heart twisted in his chest, guilt and shame washing over him like a tidal wave. He knew it was true, but having Bucky call him out on it was like a blow to the gut.

He looked into Bucky’s eyes, seeing the pain and disappointment there.

“I…” he began, but the words got stuck in his throat. He ran a hand through his hair, his eyes falling to the floor, unable to hold Bucky’s gaze.

Steve felt his heart shatter into a million pieces. He wanted to tell Bucky how much he still loved him, wanted to hold him, to kiss him, to never let him go.

But he was frozen to the spot, the words caught in his throat, the guilt and fear and shame of everything that had happened, of everything he had lost weighing heavily on his shoulders.

"I…" he managed to force out, his voice strangled, "I never stopped loving you, Buck. Never. You know that, right?"

Bucky just looked back at him, pain etched into the lines on his face. “Do I?” he asked quietly. “Because it doesn’t feel like it.”

Steve felt his heart ache at Bucky’s words, the hurt in his voice like a knife stabbing into his chest. He wanted to explain, to tell him everything that was going on in his head, the fears and doubts that haunted him, but the words wouldn’t come.

Silent tears fall from Bucky cheek as he mumbles “sure as hell dont feel like ya love me.”

Steve felt like he was suffocating, his chest tight with pain and helplessness. He watched as the tears rolled down Bucky's face, unable to move, to speak, to stop any of this from happening.

“I do,” he finally managed to force out, his voice thick with emotion. “I do love you, Buck. I always have. I always will.”

The words felt hollow even to his own ears. He knew they weren't enough, but they were all he had. Steve reached out, his hand trembling slightly, and gently brushed away a tear from Bucky's cheek. His fingers lingered on Bucky's skin, feeling the warmth, the softness, his touch desperate and tender at once.

"Please, Buck," he whispered, the plea ripping from his throat, "Just... just don't give up on me. Don't give up on us."

The words hung heavy in the air, filling the small space between them. Steve's heart was racing, his breath shallow, as he waited for Bucky to respond. The silence was unbearable, the seconds stretching into eternities as he watched Bucky's face, searching for any flicker of hope.

Bucky's eyes were still on him, tears still glittering in the corners, his expression a mix of pain and indecision.

“Steve”

Steve swallowed again, his throat dry as sandpaper. He was hanging on by a thread, waiting, hoping, begging internally for Bucky to just say something, anything.

He reached out again, his fingers gently touching Bucky's chin, tilting his face up so he would look at him. "Please," he murmured, his voice ragged, "say something…"

“Tell me that you still love me.” Bucky pleas.

Steve felt a wave of raw emotion wash over him, tears prickling in the corners of his eyes. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for what he was about to say.

"I do," he said, his voice firm now, strong, his eyes locking with Bucky's. "I do still love you, Buck. I'll always love you. You're my... my one constant. The best thing that's ever happened to me."

“Kay” Bucky responds.

Steve's brows furrowed slightly in confusion at Bucky's reply. It wasn't the response he had expected. It wasn't a rejection, but it didn't feel like a acceptance either.

He searched Bucky's face, trying to find a hint of what he was thinking or feeling, but his expression was guarded, unreadable. Steve took a step closer, his hand still resting on Bucky's chin, his eyes locked on Bucky's.

“Just ‘kay’?” he asked, a wry note of humor to his voice, masking his insecurity.

Bucky nodded, his gaze not wavering from Steve's. There was a silent tension in the air, an electric current passing between them. Steve's heart was pounding in his chest, his fingers still gently cupping Bucky's chin, his thumb gently caressing the stubble on his cheeks.

“So,” he said after a moment, his voice low, “that’s it, huh? ‘Kay’ is all I get after baring my soul to you?”

“Yeah.”

Steve felt his heart sink at Bucky's nonchalant response. After everything he had confessed, after baring his soul, this was all he got? Just a casual 'yeah'?

He let his hand drop from Bucky's chin, his fingers balling into a fist at his side. He took a step back, putting space between them, a flicker of hurt and anger in his eyes.

“That's it?” he repeated, his voice firmer now, the tone challenging, “That's all you have to say to me?”

“Steve?”

The single word, his name, hung in the air like a curse. Steve felt his frustration boil over, the whirlwind of emotions he had felt since Bucky first started talking to him now threatening to consume him entirely.

He took a step closer, his voice tight, his body tense. “Don't 'Steve' me,” he said, his hands clenched into fists by his sides. “Don't just ‘yeah’ me. I need more than that, Buck. I need... I need you to talk to me, damnit.”

Steve froze, his heart skipping a beat. He hadn't expected that response, and for a moment he just stood there, staring at Bucky in disbelief.

"What?" he breathed, his voice barely above a whisper. "You... you want me to... kiss you...?"

A million thoughts raced through his mind, a mixture of shock, hope, and trepidation. But before he could say anything else, his body seemed to act on its own, his hands reaching out to pull Bucky closer to him.

Their bodies collided, Steve's hands gripping Bucky's hips, pulling him flush against him. Bucky's hands found their place on Steve's shoulders, his fingers digging into the fabric of Steve's shirt, pulling him closer, closer, until there was no space left between them.

Steve's heart was hammering in his chest, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps. He looked into Bucky's eyes, searching for any sign of doubt or hesitation, but all he saw was a mirrored desperation, a need that matched his own.

Steve leaned in, his lips hovering just above Bucky's, his breath mingling with Bucky's in the small space between them. He could feel the heat radiating off Bucky's body, could feel the racing of Bucky's heart against his own.

He lifted a trembling hand, gently brushing back a strand of Bucky's hair, his touch tender and reverent. And then, slowly, deliberately, he pressed his lips to Bucky's. The kiss was soft at first, gentle, almost tentative. Steve's lips moved against Bucky's slowly, carefully, as if he was afraid he might break, that this might all crumble away if he wasn't careful.

Bucky's hands gripped Steve's shoulders tightly, his fingers digging into the fabric of Steve's shirt, pulling him closer still. He parted his lips under Steve's, a soft, needy sound escaping him, the sound like a dam breaking.

Steve broke the kiss, pulling back just enough so he could look at Bucky, his eyes roaming over Bucky's face, taking in the sight of him, flushed, panting, his lips red and swollen. It was a sight that would be forever etched into his memory.

He leaned in, resting his forehead against Bucky's, his breath hot on Bucky's skin. "This is what you needed?” he whispered, his voice hoarse and ragged.

“I just need you to love me” Bucky whispers back. “ ya wanna dance”

Steve felt his lips twitch into a smile at Bucky's sudden change of topic. “Dance? You’re asking me to dance?” he teased lightly.

He moved, pulling Bucky so he was standing in the middle of the room, a fair distance from any furniture or other hazards.

“Sure,” he said, taking Bucky's hand in his. “I’d love to dance with you, Buck.”

#stucky #bucky barnes #marvel fanfiction #mcu #no beta we die like men #steve rogers #fanfiction #angst #captian america #sad #hurt/comfort #lana del rey #1930s #1940s #winter soldier #gay mlm #mlm

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buckybarneswannabe · 3 months

Text

No Problem :) let me know what you think

———————————

It has been 7 hours since Bucky fell from the train. Steve was at the bar with the Howlies on his 4th glass of whiskey and it still didn’t make him feel better he didn’t even feel numb, damn this stupid serum.

Steve can’t close his eyes with out seeing buckys face, his face when he fell from the train, his face with that stupid smile when he kissed Steve for the first time in their shitty Brooklyn apartment.

No matterwhat he did Steve couldn’t not think of Bucky.

“Hey” Dum dum Dugan says to Steve, placing a hand on his shoulder and startling Steve.

*Steve jumps slightly, startled by Dugan's touch. He turns to look at him, trying to compose himself*

"Hey, Dugan. You scared me there for a sec" *Steve says, forcing a small smile*

“No more of that” Dum Dum says taking the glass from Steve’s hands. The howlies allways knew Steve was the closest with buck out of them. So if losing buck was hitting the others hard, they knew it was hurting Steve even more.

*Steve looks at Dugan, a mix of annoyance and gratitude on his face. He knows what the others are thinking, that he's taking Bucky's death harder than the rest of them. He knows they're right, but he doesn't like anyone pointing it out*

"I'm fine, Dugan. I can handle a few drinks" *Steve says, trying to keep his voice steady. He reaches for the glass in Dum Dum's hand*

“No” Dum Dum says sternly “no more” he says again with a softer tone.

*Steve lets out a sigh, knowing he's not going to win this argument. He sinks back in his chair, looking down at the table*

"Fine" *he says, his voice defeated. He doesn't look up at Dum Dum, but he knows the man is watching him with a mixture of concern and pity*

“Steve” Dum Dum say looking at steve and studying him. “I know you feel like you lost everything but-“ Steve puts a hand on Dum Dum’s chest and stops him.

“No, no you don’t to talk. You didn’t even know him. You-god” Steve pauses his voice breaking and his breath falters.

“I know Steve he is- he was your best friend” Dum Dum says. “But you need to eat some rest- all of us agree you need to go back to your room and just rest. Stop drinking this shit and just drink some tea or something”

*Tea* Steve thinks and he pauses, remembering how Bucky used to tease him for drinking leaf water and a slights crook of the lip shows up on Steve’s face before his eyes flash to a picture of Bucky’s beautiful face frozen over and bloody from where he fell from the train*

*Steve swallows hard, trying to fight back the tears that are threatening to spill. He looks back down at the table, not trusting himself to speak. He can feel the weight of Dum Dum's gaze on him, and he knows the man is just trying to help, but it's too much right now. Memories of Bucky, his laughs, his smiles, his annoying quips, flash through his mind*

"I just... I can't stop thinking. Fine okay ill go back to my quarters"

*Steve gets up from his seat, his movements slow and heavy as Dum Dum leads him to his room. He nods to the other howlies before leaving the bar. He makes his way to his quarters allowing Dum Dum to help him keep his balance , his mind and heart heavy with thoughts of Bucky. Once he reaches his room, he sits down on the edge of his bed and buries his face in his hands. Dum Dum stays in the room and takes a seat on the chair by the bed staying silent.

Steve tries he really does, tries to close his eyes to sleep, tries to to not listen to the voice in the back of his mind screaming at him for not saving Bucky.

*Steve takes deep, shaky breaths, trying to calm himself down. He can feel the weight of guilt and regret on his shoulders and it's suffocating. He lies down on the bed, trying to find a comfortable position, but no matter what he does he can't seem to find peace. He closes his eyes, but all he sees is Bucky's face, frozen and bloody from where he fell from the train. The memories flood his mind and he can't escape them*

Steve takes deep, shaky breaths, trying to calm himself down. He can feel the weight of guilt and regret on his shoulders and it's suffocating. He lies down on the bed, trying to find a comfortable position, but no matter what he does he can't seem to find peace. He closes his eyes, but all he sees is Bucky's face, frozen and bloody from where he fell from the train.

“Steve?” Dum Dum says breaking Steve from his thoughts. “You want to get something to drink or a snack pal?”

Growing up Irish Steve’s mom always made him tea when he was sad, sick, cold, or anything really. Steve thought to himself that he might as well try making him self a cup with the small pot and teabags in his quarters.

Steve gets up from the bed and makes his way to the small kitchenette in his quarters. He fills the kettle with water and sets it on the stove to boil. He rummages through the drawers, looking for the teabags. Once he finds them, he takes one out and puts it in a small cup. He waits for the kettle to whistle and pours the hot water into the cup. As the tea steeps, he watches the dark liquid turn a warm amber hue feeling Dum Dums eyes on him.

Steve picks up the cup and takes a small sip. The warm liquid soothing as it goes down his throat it doesn’t taste good but it’s tea. He closes his eyes, memories of his mom and Bucky flashing through his mind. The comforting touch of his mother and the annoying but loving presence of Bucky.

Huh. He really does lose everybody who loves him

Tears start to well up in his eyes and he quickly blinks them away, taking another sip of the tea. Despite the warmth the tea should have given him, the guilt and regret still linger in his mind. The tea makes it worse honestly.

Steve takes another sip of the tea, but instead of comforting him, it somehow makes him feel worse. The familiarity of the drink only serves as a reminder of the man he failed to save.

*He sets the teacup down on the counter with a thud, the sound echoing through the room. He clenches his fists.

“Hey.” Dum Dum says.

Steve jumps slightly, startled by the sound of Dum Dum's voice. He turns to see the man standing in the doorway, his expression one of concern. Steve quickly wipes away the tears that are starting to form in his eyes. he had forgotten dumdum was still in the room

"Hey, sorry” Steve responds.

“Tea in Europe so much better it makes you cry?” He asks

Steve lets out a small huff of laughter, the hint of a smile on his lips at Dum Dum's attempt to lighten the mood.

"Yeah, something like that," He says, running a hand through his hair.

*Dum Dum looks at Steve, his eyes searching his face. He knows Steve is trying to put on a brave face, but he can see the pain in his eyes. Dum Dum squeezes Steve's shoulder gently before letting go.*

"i brought you buckys uniform" he says, his voice firm but gentle.

“Oh.” Steve says “thanks” He breathes grabbing the uniform from his hands.

When Dum Dum leaves Steve collapses and hugs the uniform, squeezing it until he passes out on the cold floor.

Hey yall send comment a stucky head cannon and I’ll write it!

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