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angelremnants · 12 days ago

Text

American Wedding | S. Rogers

summary : Steve Rogers is throwing himself into mission after mission, trying to outrun the weight of his past—his unresolved feelings for Sharon and the lingering memories of Peggy. But when his commanding officers force him to take a break, Steve ends up on a staycation in Barbados. What begins as a forced respite soon becomes a much-needed escape as he unexpectedly finds healing, peace, and even a connection in the warmth of the Caribbean sun. Steve learns to let go of the past and finally breathe again, even if it’s just for a short while. Inspired by American Wedding (unreleased) by Frank Ocean.

pairing : Steve Rogers x f!reader

warnings : Fluff to angst, imposed traits on the reader such as an origin, emotional healing, mention of past relationships, themes of healing and self-discovery, themes of arranged marriages and family pressure, mentions of emotional and familial abuse, a bit of hurt/comfort, bittersweet ending, mentions of past trauma, mild language. Proceed with caution if you're sensitive to such material.

word count : 12.3k

author's notes : I don't know what's wrong with me and writing long fics with major angst. I think I might have a problem.

If you're still as hooked in the MCU fandom as I am, then it shouldn't be a surprise for you that I stumbled upon the infamous Steve edit on American Wedding. Steve was my first little crush when I started getting into the MCU; it might not be my number one anymore, but I couldn't help but be mesmerized by the work and how well it could somehow fit the vibe of our golden boy.

Side note, I chose Barbados just because I love Rihanna (plus, the country is as gorgeous as she is). I tried to respect the culture as much as I could, but please do let me know if something is amiss. Anyways, here's my take on what this song could mean if associated with America's Ass greatest soldier.

(ao3 version)

The mission was over.

Steve Rogers had traded his usual Captain America tight suit for average civilian clothes and now stood just outside a bustling café in Bridgetown, the late afternoon sun casting a golden hue over the vibrant streets of Barbados. He should’ve been relieved. The intel was secured, the rogue operation dismantled, and S.H.I.E.L.D. agents were already working to extract the rest of the loose ends. But instead, Steve felt a familiar weight settle on his shoulders, one he couldn’t quite shake.

The air was heavy with the scent of fried fish and spices, and the sound of calypso music drifted from a nearby street performer. Locals walked by, some glancing curiously at the tall, broad-shouldered man who looked distinctly out of place. Steve’s fingers hovered over his phone, debating whether to call in and request another assignment.

Then, his phone buzzed in his hand, and the name Tony Stark lit up the screen.

Steve answered with a sigh, already bracing himself. “Stark.”

“Capsicle! How’s my favorite star-spangled soldier doing?” Tony’s voice was chipper, the sound of clinking glasses and faint jazz music in the background.

“I’m fine,” Steve replied, scanning the street as though someone might overhear. “Why are you calling?”

“Well, it’s not to remind you to update your playlist based on what I’m hearing in the background—though, seriously, we need to talk about that at some point.” Tony didn’t wait for a response. “No, I’m calling to let you know that for the first time in, oh, forever, we’re at a lull. No alien invasions. No rogue A.I.s. No infinity stones threatening to wipe out half the universe. You know what that means?”

Steve frowned. “That it’s time to prepare for the next crisis?”

Tony let out a dramatic groan. “And people say I’m the workaholic. No, Cap. It means you get a break.”

Steve rolled his eyes, leaning against the café’s wooden railing. “I don’t need a break, Tony. There’s always something that needs to be done—”

“Yeah, no. I’m gonna stop you right there.” Tony’s voice turned pointed, though there was still a hint of his trademark sarcasm. “I talked to Fury, and even he thinks you’ve been overdoing it. And considering the guy’s idea of a vacation involves a bunker and a bottle of bourbon, that’s saying something.”

“I’m fine,” Steve insisted, his tone tightening.

“Fine? Really? I mean, do you even know what day it is? Look, pretty much everyone’s off the grid—Sam, Natasha, even Clint’s in retirement mode. And I’m finally getting around to that honeymoon thing with Pepper because, you know, saving the world isn’t as good for a marriage as you’d think. So you? You need to chill.”

“Tony, I’m fine,” Steve had insisted, though even he didn’t sound convincing.

“Yeah, sure. That’s why you’ve been taking back-to-back missions for the past three months. What’s next? Fighting a volcano?”

Steve opened his mouth to respond, then realized he didn’t.

Tony took his silence as confirmation. “Listen, you’re not a machine, Cap. Even super-soldiers need to decompress. Which is why I, in all my infinite wisdom, am forcing you to take some time off.”

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose. “Tony—”

“Ah-ah! No arguments. Fury’s covering part of the bill, and I’m picking up the rest because I’m such a generous friend. You pick the place—anywhere in the world—and I’ll make it happen. You’re welcome.”

Steve glanced around, his eyes lingering on the vibrant life of the island. The azure waters sparkled in the distance, and the rhythmic sway of the palm trees seemed to beckon him. He hadn’t allowed himself a moment to breathe in months, maybe years.

“I don’t know,” Steve said slowly.

Tony groaned again, louder this time. “Come on, Cap. It’s not like I’m asking you to take a yoga class in Malibu. Though, honestly, you’d kill it in downward dog. No, I’m telling you to pick a nice spot, kick back, and—God forbid—relax for once in your life.”

“Tony—”

“Let me paint you a picture,” Tony interrupted, his tone turning theatrical. “A beachfront villa. Sunsets so pretty they’ll make you cry. Maybe a fruity drink with one of those little umbrellas—wait, scratch that, you’re more of a ‘beer and brooding’ guy. The point is, take the damn vacation, Steve. Doctor’s orders.”

Steve sighed, looking out the window of the outpost at the vibrant streets of Bridgetown. “I’ll stay here,” he said finally. “Barbados seems… peaceful.”

“Atta boy!” Tony cheered. “I’ll wire the funds. And hey, if you don’t send me at least one picture of you in a Hawaiian shirt, I’m gonna be very disappointed.”

Steve couldn’t help the faint smile tugging at his lips. “Thanks, Tony.”

“Don’t mention it. Seriously, don’t. I have a reputation to maintain.”

The line went dead, leaving Steve alone with the sounds of the island.

The first few days in Barbados passed in a blur of quiet solitude. Steve spent most of his time walking along the beach or sitting on the villa’s small porch, nursing a cold drink while the sun dipped below the horizon. For someone used to the constant hum of battlefields, strategy meetings, and high-stakes missions, the stillness was almost unnerving.

But it wasn’t just the quiet that unsettled him—it was the thoughts he’d been pushing aside for months. Thoughts of Sharon.

He’d tried not to dwell on their break-up, but here, surrounded by the warmth and beauty of the island, the memories crept in uninvited. Their relationship had ended just weeks ago, though the cracks had been there for far longer. She had been kind, understanding, and steadfast—everything Steve thought he should want. But every time he looked at her, a small, nagging voice whispered the truth he didn’t want to face.

She was Peggy’s niece.

No matter how much he tried to compartmentalize it, the connection was impossible to ignore. Every time Sharon smiled, there was a flicker of something familiar—her determination, her poise, even the way she carried herself. It wasn’t fair to either of them, but Steve couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d been chasing a shadow of the past. Sharon deserved more than that, and so did he.

When they’d finally called it quits, Sharon had been the one to speak the words he couldn’t bring himself to say.

“You’re still carrying her with you, Steve,” she’d said, her voice calm but heavy with resignation. “And maybe you always will. But I can’t be her for you. I don’t want to be.”

The guilt had followed him ever since. Sharon had been right. For all the years that had passed, Peggy still lingered in the corners of his mind—her voice, her laugh, the way she’d believed in him when no one else did. He hadn’t just been grieving Sharon’s absence; he was grieving Peggy all over again.

By the third day, Steve found himself wandering into a bustling part of Bridgetown, hoping the sights and sounds of the island might distract him. The streets were alive with energy—locals bartering at colorful market stalls, tourists snapping photos of historic buildings, and the rhythmic beat of soca music weaving through it all.

“Yuh lookin’ lost, boss,” a young man called out from behind a coconut cart. He was grinning, a machete in hand as he expertly cracked open a coconut.

Steve glanced back at him. “Just exploring.”

“Ah, well, yuh gotta try dis,” the man said, handing him a freshly cut coconut. “Yuh look like yuh could use a lil’ taste of Bajan life. Fresh coconut water! Or yuh scared of a lil’ machete work?”

Steve smirked politely but didn’t respond, unsure if he was being teased or seriously invited. Before he could decide, you appeared, carrying a basket of fruits and shaking your head with a laugh.

“Jamal, stop tormenting de tourists!” you scolded lightheartedly. “Poor man just tryna enjoy ‘e day without you harassing him.”

Jamal shrugged with a grin, chopping open another coconut. “Ah, just showin’ him how we do it here, yuh know? He look like he need it.”

You turned to Steve, flashing a warm smile. “Ignore him, he does this to everyone. But,” you added, your tone playful, “he’s not wrong. Coconut water will fix whatever ails you. You should try one.”

Steve chuckled, the tension in his shoulders easing. “If you say so,” he said, stepping closer.

You nodded approvingly as Jamal handed him the coconut. “See? That wasn’t so hard,” you teased.

Taking a sip, Steve found the cool water surprisingly refreshing. “This is good,” he admitted, glancing at you.

“Good?” you repeated with mock offense. “It’s de best on de island. You’ve got a lot to learn.”

Steve smiled, feeling more at ease than he had in days. “Guess I’ll need a guide, then,” he said, the words slipping out before he could overthink them.

You tilted your head, amusement sparkling in your eyes. “Lucky for you, I know everyone ‘round here. Stick with me, Captain America, and I’ll show you the real Barbados.”

He blinked, surprised you knew who he was.

“Relax,” you said with a wink. “We don’t make a big deal of celebrities' ‘round here. Besides, the way I see it, everybody needs a break—even heroes.”

He guessed he really did well in choosing his destination.

Steve walked beside you through the busy streets, his coconut still in hand. The initial awkwardness of being recognized faded quickly as you carried the conversation effortlessly, your teasing making him smile more than he had in weeks.

“So, Captain America,” you said, throwing a glance over your shoulder with a grin. “What’s a hero like you doin’ walking ‘round alone in Barbados? Not enough trouble to save us from?”

He chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. “Actually, I’m here because I was told to take a break. Guess I've been working a little too hard lately.”

“Working too hard? You? Never would’ve guessed,” you teased, your tone playful.

Steve shook his head, grinning. “What about you? You seem to know everyone here.”

“I do. Born and raised. And the people here? They’re my family—even Jamal, with his coconut antics,” you said with a laugh. “You stick wit’ me, and I’ll teach you all de secrets of the island.”

“Secrets, huh?” Steve said, his tone tinged with curiosity. “What kind of secrets?”

You stopped suddenly and gestured toward a small, colorful shack by the road. “For starters, the best fish cutters on the island are right here. Come, you can’t visit Barbados and not try one.”

Steve followed you to the shack, where an older man greeted you like an old friend. As you chatted easily with him, ordering food, Steve found himself watching you with a kind of quiet admiration. You were easygoing, quick to laugh, and had a warmth about you that was magnetic.

When the fish cutters arrived, you handed one to Steve. “Here. And don’t even think of saying it’s just ‘good.’ Dis is heaven in bread.”

He took a bite, his eyes widening. “Wow. Okay, you’re right—this is incredible.”

You smirked. “Told you. The locals always know best.”

As the two of you walked along the beach, the conversation grew more personal. You asked about his life back home, and he answered honestly, even about the heartbreak he was still trying to shake.

“So, this Sharon,” you said carefully, “she’s Peggy’s niece?”

Steve nodded, looking sheepish. “Yeah. It’s… complicated.”

“You think?” you teased gently, bumping your shoulder against his. “Sounds messy. But you know what? Sometimes you just need to let go of what’s complicated and hold on to what’s simple.”

“And what’s simple?” Steve asked, curious.

You stopped walking and turned to face him, your expression soft but playful. “This,” you said, gesturing to the ocean. “Good food, good company, and a little bit of adventure.” He smiled, the sincerity in your voice hitting him in a way he didn’t expect. “I think I’m starting to see your point.”

Over the next few days, you made good on your promise to show Steve the best of Barbados. True to your word, you showed Steve places that weren’t in any guidebook, sharing bits of history and culture along the way.

“This,” you said one morning, gesturing to a vibrant, bustling market, “is where you get the freshest fruit on the island. And where you learn to bargain.”

Steve watched in awe as you haggled with a vendor, the two of you laughing and bantering in a mix of Bajan dialect and English. When you returned with a bag of mangos and papayas, he raised a brow.

“You just got all that for half the price,” he said.

“Yup,” you said with a grin, popping a slice of mango into your mouth. “You're lucky you've got me, Captain. Otherwise, they’d have charged you double for being a tourist.”

“Good thing I’ve got you,” he said, his tone warm.

Later, you took him to a rum distillery, where you explained the process of making Barbados’ world-famous rum, teasing him as he tried a sample and coughed slightly at the burn.

“That strong for you, Cap?”

“Not strong enough to knock me out,” he replied, his voice laced with humor.

You then took him to the lively Oistins Fish Fry, where he tried grilled marlin and danced awkwardly but earnestly to soca music. You dragged him to Harrison’s Cave, laughing as he marveled at the limestone formations.

“You look like a kid seeing snow for de first time,” you teased.

“I’ve been frozen in snow for seventy years,” he replied, deadpan.

You burst out laughing, and even he cracked a smile at his own joke.

One afternoon, you led him on a hike up to Cherry Tree Hill, where the view of the rolling hills and turquoise ocean was breathtaking. As you stood beside him, the wind tugging at your dress, you glanced at him with a smile.

“You're not bad company, you know,” you said.

“Neither are you,” he replied, the corner of his mouth lifting in that signature half-smile.

“You keep looking at me like that, and I might think you’re sweet on me, Captain.”

Steve’s cheeks flushed faintly, but he held your gaze. “And what if I am?”

Your eyebrows shot up, surprised but delighted. “Well, then,” you said, stepping closer, “I hope you know you’re in for one hell of a ride.”

As the two of you strolled along a quieter path near the beach, the sunlight danced through the palm trees, and Steve couldn’t help but feel a sense of calm he hadn’t experienced in months. He looked over at you, smiling at how animatedly you were explaining the significance of the bright kites dotting the sky—something about “kite season” and friendly neighborhood competitions.

“You know,” Steve said after a moment, “your accent isn’t quite like everyone else’s around here. It’s still got that lilt, but… it’s different.”

You glanced at him, a little surprised. “You noticed that, huh?”

He nodded. “I guess I’ve got an ear for detail. What’s the story there?”

You smiled, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. “Well, I went abroad for a few years—took my undergrad in the U.S. and just came back home recently.”

“Really?” Steve asked, intrigued. “What’d you study?”

As you walked beside Steve, your voice became more animated as you shared the kind of work you had done during your studies. “Well, when I was in the States for my undergrad, I did my thesis on cultural practices, specifically exploring the dynamics between traditional marriage structures and modern society.”

Steve raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Really? That sounds… complex. What kind of structures?”

“Yuh know, I looked into things like arranged marriages and how they vary across different cultures,” you explained, eyes sparkling with passion. “One part of my research focused on Islamic marriage traditions, particularly around the roles of brides and how modern perspectives are influencing those practices. It wasn’t about judging or anything, just trying to understand how people make it work, despite some of the harsh stereotypes.”

“Wow,” Steve said thoughtfully, clearly impressed. “Sounds like you dove deep into it. You didn’t go for the easy topics, huh?”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “No, not really. I wanted to tackle something meaningful. And, for me, it was important to explore how even with things like hijabs or polygamy, those traditions have layers, especially when it comes to women’s agency. It’s all about perspective.”

Steve nodded, clearly fascinated by your work. “It’s amazing how much you can learn when you dig into a topic. I guess that’s why you came back here, huh? To work on making a difference in your community.”

You smiled softly, thinking back on your time abroad. “Yeah. I learned a lot, but I always knew I’d come home. There’s so much to do here, and I want to make sure we’re not losing our identity as we modernize. Barbados is home, and I want to help make sure it stays that way.”

You laughed softly, shrugging. “Guess it’s de island girl in me. This place is part of who I am. But,” you added with a sheepish grin, “spendin’ so much time abroad, I guess I picked up a bit of de American accent. It slips in sometimes when I talk.”

“I think it’s kind of charming,” Steve said, surprising even himself with the comment.

You raised a brow at him, a slow smile spreading across your lips. “Careful, Captain, or I might think you’re tryin’ to sweet-talk me.”

Steve rubbed the back of his neck, looking sheepish but amused. “Maybe I am.”

Your laugh rang out, light and melodic. “Well, you’re not too bad at it.”

At one point, while they were sitting on a beachside bench, a gentle breeze tugging at their clothes, Steve caught her eye, and she smiled. That smile. He swore it was the brightest thing in the world, even more stunning than the sun hanging low in the sky behind her.

The conversation continued, with Steve steering it back toward you. He asked about your time abroad, what it was like living away from home, and what made you choose environmental science in the first place.

“And what about you?” you countered, tilting your head as you studied him. “You’ve been saving the world for what—over a century now?”

He chuckled. “Not quite that long, but close.”

“Doesn’t seem like you’re slowin’ down anytime soon,” you said, your voice softer now. “But, Steve… don’t you ever just want to stop for a bit? Live a little for yourself?”

Her question caught him off guard. For a moment, he was quiet, the only sounds around you were the gentle crash of waves and the rustle of the wind in the trees.

“I guess I don’t know how to do that,” he admitted.

As you sat on the beach watching the sun dip below the horizon, you turned to Steve with a mischievous glint in your eye.

“So,” you began, “how do you feel about weddings?”

He looked at you warily. “Weddings?”

“Yeah. My… um, distant relative—you probably need a map to figure out how we’re related—is getting married this weekend. It’s a small thing,” she said, “But it’s a family event. You know how it is—everyone wants to show up and make it ‘extra’ for the aunties.”

Steve chuckled. “I’m guessing it’s not going to be your average wedding then?”

“Oh, no,” she grinned, “Think small chapel, a few too many drinks, maybe a bit of dancing, and a lot of awkward family members trying to act like they haven’t been feuding for the past ten years. But, you know, in the best way possible.”

Steve found himself laughing along with her, the ease between them growing stronger by the minute.

“Actually,” she said with a mischievous grin, “It’s going to be kind of hilarious. I was thinking…” she paused, glancing over at him. “You wanna come with me? As my… plus one?”

Steve blinked in surprise, but there was something about the way she said it as if she didn’t mind the idea of them being together at such a personal family event. “I mean, are you sure? I’m probably not what your family had in mind when they thought ‘plus one,’” he joked, a smile tugging at his lips.

She shrugged, the motion casual, but her gaze was intense. “Honestly, I don’t think anyone really knows what they’re getting when they invite me. And trust me, you’ll be far more interesting than the rest of my relatives.” She glanced at him sideways with a grin. “Besides, maybe they’ll like you more than me.”

“Are you trying to get me to go to your wedding as an act of charity?” he teased.

She laughed. “No, I’m offering you a chance to be part of something completely ridiculous, and trust me, you’ll be talking about it for years.”

“Well, in that case,” Steve said, pretending to think it over, “I guess I’ll be there. But you’ve got to warn me beforehand if there’s any kind of dancing involved. I’m not exactly a pro.”

Her grin widened. “Deal.”

They separated when it was well into the night, and soon enough Steve found himself back in his quaint hotel room, listening to the peaceful waves of the ocean. He laid on the bed, staring up at the ceiling, his mind drifting back to the hours he’d spent with [Y/N] earlier.

He couldn’t help but replay the way she looked again and again in his mind. The first thing that struck him was how effortlessly beautiful she was. Her skin looked golden when it caught the sunlight in a way that made everything around her seem brighter, like she was glowing from within. Her hair framed her face in soft waves, a contrast to the sun-kissed skin that made her seem like she belonged to the island itself. It wasn’t just the way she looked, though; it was the way she carried herself. She moved with such ease, like she was perfectly in tune with the world around her, as though every step was measured but never forced.

Her eyes—those eyes—were a shade that seemed almost impossible, warm and deep, with a spark that made it clear she was fully present, fully alive in every conversation. When she spoke, it was with an accent that was distinctly Barbadian, but there was a softness to it, a hint of something else—like she’d been somewhere far from home and had returned with more layers than when she left. Her smile had been what did it to him, though. It wasn’t just the way it lit up her face, but the way it made him feel like he was the only one in the world she was focusing on, even if it was just for a moment.

And it wasn’t just her looks—Steve knew he’d never felt this way about someone in years, the way his heart seemed to skip when she caught his gaze, the way the mere thought of her made him feel like a teenager again, nervous and unsure but eager all the same. The more he thought about her, the more the feeling intensified, like a slow burn in his chest. He tried to push it down, telling himself it was just the heat, just the newness of it all, but deep down, he knew it wasn’t that simple. He had found something in her, something that made the weight of everything else just… fade away.

The way she laughed, her smile so effortless, like she was a living embodiment of the sun that bathed the island in warmth. There was something about her that made his chest tighten—something magnetic, yet disarmingly genuine. He’d expected a brief distraction on this trip, maybe a drink with a stranger. Instead, she had effortlessly captivated him. Her energy was infectious, and even in the quiet moments, she had a way of drawing him in. The little quirks of her accent, the way she’d pause mid-sentence to correct herself, as if speaking a second language she hadn’t used in too long—there was a vulnerability in it that made her all the more endearing.

And then there was the tattoo. That damn tattoo. He couldn’t stop thinking about it. He’d barely even paid attention to it at first, but after spending hours with her, it stood out more, like a proud branding. A temporary tattoo she’d convinced him to get while they were strolling around. It was a simple design, a swirling wave pattern across his left hand, something that matched the feeling of freedom he’d had with her that day. He looked down at his hand now, the ink still vivid, but with a hint of purple-ish blue where it was starting to fade. She’d laughed when he’d rolled up his sleeve to show her, clearly impressed by how well it suited him. He never thought he’d have fun getting a tattoo, temporary or not, but the experience had been entirely different with her. Everything felt light, effortless, fun.

As his mind wandered further, Steve found himself imagining something he hadn’t thought about in a long time: the future. The thought of her in a wedding gown, walking down the aisle toward him, made his heart race. He couldn’t help but picture it, absurdly vivid—[Y/N], laughing under the lights, her eyes sparkling as she smiled at him in that way only she could. He’d be there, in a tux, grinning like a fool, probably fumbling over his vows. He could almost hear the judge’s voice, telling them to kiss, and there she’d be—his wife, laughing with him as they made it official in a courthouse with nothing but their hearts and a rush of love propelling them forward. The thought made him shake his head in surprise, crimson adorning his cheeks. It was ridiculous, yet felt so very real. He was falling for her in ways he never thought possible.

He tried to focus on other things—his next move, the mission he’d just completed—but as much as he tried, the tattoo kept pulling his attention back to her. It wasn’t just the design; it was the way it had been something shared between them. A small, playful gesture, but one that made the whole day feel… connected. He smiled to himself, the thought of her making his heart race again. He shifted uncomfortably under the covers, trying to shake off the sudden rush of warmth that had pooled in his stomach.

But as much as he tried to focus on other things, her laugh kept echoing in his mind, and the image of her running after his vehicle earlier today kept replaying, like something out of a dream he didn’t want to wake from. It was a feeling he hadn’t realized he’d missed—the easy excitement of getting to know someone new. He rolled over onto his side, trying to get some rest, but his mind wouldn’t quiet. No, he thought to himself, he wasn’t about to start feeling this way about her. Not now, not when he had so much left unsaid, so many wounds still open. But as sleep slowly began to pull him under, that feeling—warm and electric—lingered in the back of his mind, making it hard to ignore the undeniable pull he felt toward her.

The sun was just beginning to dip below the horizon, casting a golden hue over the streets as Steve revved the engine of the bright red 5.0 Mustang he’d rented for his trip. He’d opted for the car, not just for the joy of driving it, but because he thought it might impress [Y/N]. Plus, he couldn’t deny that he wanted to show off a little, especially when he’d be picking her up from university. He’d learned from their conversations how much effort she’d put into her education and her dedication to her work, and he was eager to see where she spent her days.

He parked the Mustang in front of the university building, its polished surface gleaming under the late afternoon sun. His eyes scanned the steps, waiting for her to appear. He’d offered to take her to the wedding, knowing how much it meant to her. He’d also taken the time to ensure he had the right attire, knowing it would be expected of him. He wanted to be the gentleman. But it wasn’t just about impressing her family; it was about showing her that he respected her, that he was willing to step into her world, no matter how different it might be from his.

Soon, she appeared on the steps, a bundle of papers that she had to submit for her master's application clutched in her hand as she hurried down toward him. She wore a light sundress floating around her figure as she walked towards him, and Steve couldn’t help but notice the way the late afternoon sun made her glow. As she approached the car, she glanced at him with a playful grin, her eyes lighting up when she saw the Mustang.

“You sure know how to make an entrance, huh?” she teased, her voice laced with amusement as she slid into the passenger seat.

Steve chuckled, feeling a slight rush of pride. “Figured I’d try to keep up with you,” he said, glancing at her as he started the engine. “Ready for this?”

She nodded, still smiling. “I’ve never been more ready. Just a heads-up, though—my parents might give you the look. You know, the ‘who is this American?’ look.” She winked, but there was something soft in her gaze that made Steve feel like maybe she wasn’t entirely at ease either.

“Yeah, I’m used to ‘the look.’” He grinned, determined to be charming despite the tension in the air. He wanted to make her feel at ease.

As they drove toward the wedding venue, Steve kept the conversation light, asking about her studies, her thoughts on the wedding, and what her family was like. She talked about her work with passion, but Steve couldn’t help but notice the slight apprehension in her tone when she mentioned her parents.

When they arrived, he was introduced to her family, his hand shaking politely as he greeted her parents with a well-practiced smile. They weren’t unfriendly, but there was a certain coldness to their demeanor, like they were sizing him up, unsure of what to make of him. Steve, ever the gentleman, took it in stride, asking questions and trying his best to blend in. But as the evening wore on, it became clear that [Y/N] was not quite as comfortable as she let on.

She was whisked away by her family to change into something more formal, and Steve found himself left to fend for, alone in the crowd of unfamiliar faces. He quietly took a seat, his eyes scanning the room for any sign of her.

As the evening wore on, Steve found himself being gently but firmly ushered away from the crowd by one of [Y/N]’s relatives. He was led to a room at the back of the venue, where an array of Barjan formal attire awaited him. The family had been insistent on ensuring he was properly dressed for the occasion, a tradition that Steve hadn’t anticipated.

“I guess I’ll have to dress the part,” Steve muttered to himself, his voice carrying a hint of amusement as the servant handed him a traditional Barjan tuxedo. It wasn’t quite what he’d expected, but he knew better than to argue—[Y/N] had asked for him to be taken care of, and he wanted to honor that.

The outfit was stunning: a sharply tailored jacket with intricate gold embroidery at the collar and cuffs, paired with sleek trousers that tapered perfectly at the ankle. The fabric was a rich, deep shade of midnight blue that shimmered under the light, and the shirt underneath was a crisp white with a soft sheen. He looked at himself in the mirror, admiring the polished shoes and the way the suit fit him perfectly, as though he’d been born to wear it.

As Steve finished adjusting his tie, he couldn’t help but think about how much this wedding had already become so much more than what he’d anticipated. He wasn’t just here as a guest; he was part of her world, even if that world was foreign to him in many ways. He was eager to see her, to see what she would look like in her formal attire, and the thought of her in a gown left him feeling a strange mixture of excitement and nervousness.

Once he was dressed, Steve rejoined the others in the main hall, where he was greeted by [Y/N]’s family, all clad in their formal Barjan attire. The women wore elegant, flowing gowns, with intricate beadwork and colorful patterns that reflected the island’s natural beauty. The men wore similarly rich outfits, with patterned vests and gold-accented details that gave them an air of authority and elegance. Steve felt like he’d been transported to another world, one full of tradition, culture, and beauty.

Then, finally, [Y/N] entered, and Steve’s breath caught in his throat. She looked radiant. Her dress was everything he’d imagined and more: a delicate, embroidered gown with a soft blush hue, its flowing fabric catching the light with every step. The intricate patterns on her dress mirrored the ones in her family’s attire, as though they were all part of one elaborate, elegant tapestry. Her hair was let loose in its natural soft waves, and the sparkle in her eyes made her seem even more ethereal.

She smiled when she saw him, and Steve felt his chest tighten with something he couldn’t quite put into words. “You look… incredible,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

She smiled back, her eyes twinkling. “Thank you,” she replied, her tone light but warm.

They shared a quiet moment, their connection palpable. The formal attire, the elegance of the night—it all felt surreal, yet right at the same time.

Steve couldn’t keep his eyes off [Y/N] as the wedding celebration rolled on. She was radiant, her smile lighting up the room, but it wasn’t just her looks that had him captivated. It was the way she carried herself, effortlessly blending into the crowd while still standing out. He wasn’t used to feeling this way—not amid all the military stuff he had been through, not after everything he’d seen. But with her, it was different.

As they stood by the drinks table, Steve couldn’t resist a smile. “You clean up pretty well,” he said, the words coming out more smoothly than he intended, but it was true. She looked stunning in that dress, her laughter echoing in his chest like a warm melody.

[Y/N] looked over at him, her gaze teasing. “For a guy who usually wears a uniform, you look pretty good in that suit yourself.”

“Well, I’m trying to keep up with you,” he replied, giving her a half-smile. “You know, trying to make a good impression.”

She leaned closer, her voice dropping just slightly, playful but with that edge of seriousness Steve had come to recognize. “You don’t need to try so hard,” she said, her words almost a challenge. “You’ve already impressed me.”

Steve’s heart skipped a beat. He didn’t know what it was about her that got under his skin like this, but the way she made him feel was disorienting, like the ground wasn’t quite steady beneath him. It had been a long time since he’d felt this much—anything, really.

“So,” he said, trying to keep his composure, “what’s next? You’ve already got my attention, and I’m starting to think that’s the only thing I’m focused on tonight.”

Her lips curved into a smile, eyes twinkling with mischief. “Well, I guess maybe you should focus on me a little more,” she teased, but there was something deeper in her voice, a subtle invitation that made Steve want to step closer. “After all, there’s still plenty of weddings left, Captain.”

Steve blinked at the title, his face softening into a grin. “I’m not used to being called that at a party,” he joked, though his mind was already on the edge, keeping himself from crossing the line. He wasn’t used to this kind of playful banter. In the military, things were direct, and to the point. But with [Y/N], it was different. She made him feel… lighter. He’d never thought he’d feel this way, especially not in the middle of something so unfamiliar, like a wedding halfway around the world.

He leaned in slightly, just enough to get her attention. “But I’ll insist, you’ve got me distracted, more than I thought possible.”

[Y/N] laughed softly, as though she was enjoying the chase, but she stayed close enough that their words felt like a secret between the two of them. “I’ll take that as a compliment,” she said, her voice carrying the slightest hint of mischief. “Though, maybe I should keep you on your toes a little longer. Can’t make it too easy for you, Captain.”

Before Steve could respond, her parents arrived, their presence immediately cooling the warm atmosphere between them. The formalities kicked back in, and Steve felt a slight shift in [Y/N]’s demeanor. She seemed to retreat into herself a bit, her smile faltering. Her parents were speaking with her in low tones, their voices too serious for the celebratory mood of the evening. Steve’s protective instincts flared, but he knew better than to interrupt family matters.

She tried to give him a reassuring smile as they spoke, but it wasn’t enough. Her parents were speaking to her in hushed tones, their words sharp, but Steve managed to catch bits and pieces with his super-soldier hearing. “You’ll marry him soon. It’s already arranged,” her mother’s voice was firm, but there was an undeniable sense of finality in it.

[Y/N]’s expression darkened as she listened, her hands gripping the fabric of her dress as if trying to hold herself together. Steve’s heart ached for her. He didn’t know what was being said, but he could see the pain in her eyes. He wasn’t about to let this go unnoticed, not when it was clear she needed support.

Without a second thought, he moved toward her, gently pushing through the crowd to reach her side. As soon as she saw him, she turned away from her parents, her expression a mix of frustration and sadness.

“[Y/N]?” Steve called out softly, his voice full of concern as he reached out to her.

She didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she hurried toward the back of the venue, away from the eyes of her family, with Steve following close behind.

“Hey, hey,” he said, catching up with her and gently taking her arm. “What’s going on?” She looked at him, her eyes wide with emotion. “They… they’ve already arranged my marriage, Steve,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “To someone I don’t even know.”

The drive back to the beach was quiet. The low rumble of the engine was the only sound between them as Steve kept his eyes on the road, his knuckles white against the steering wheel. The Mustang purred beneath them, but it felt hollow in the silence that stretched out like the ocean they were heading toward. Steve was trying to give [Y/N] space, but the tension between them was palpable. He knew she was struggling, knew that what had happened at the wedding had cracked something wide open. The weight of it all hung heavily in the air, thick and suffocating.

The soft hum of the ocean was the only sound that accompanied them as they walked along the shore. The sand beneath their feet was cool from the night air, and the sky was dotted with stars, but the world felt heavy around them. [Y/N] was quiet, her steps slow, her mind still racing with the events that had just unfolded. Steve kept a careful distance, giving her space, but his mind was working overtime—trying to make sense of everything that had just happened.

They reached the spot where they’d stood together the day before, where the horizon stretched out before them, untouched and endless. The contrast between that peaceful moment and this was sharp. He could still see the laughter in her eyes, the carefree joy they had shared—but now, her face was clouded with doubt and fear.

Steve paused for a moment, looking at her as she stared out into the dark expanse of the ocean. He wanted to fix this, to do something, anything, to take away the pain that had suddenly overwhelmed her, but he knew this was something only she could express. He was here to listen, to be present, and that was what mattered right now.

[Y/N] broke the silence, her voice barely audible over the crashing waves. “I thought I had more time, Steve. I thought I had figured things out. I worked so hard for this freedom.” Her voice cracked as she looked at him, tears welling in her eyes. “I thought that if I could prove myself, if I could show them that I could make something of my life… they’d let me go. But now, they’ve taken everything. They hid my passport. They took my money. And now, I have nothing.”

The raw vulnerability in her voice hit him harder than he expected. He stepped closer, his hand reaching out instinctively, resting on her shoulder. She flinched at the touch but didn’t pull away. She needed comfort—he could feel it, even if she wasn’t sure she wanted to accept it.

“[Y/N]…” he whispered, his voice full of empathy. He didn’t know what to say, not really. What could he say to make this better? But she kept going, her words tumbling out like a dam had broken.

“I came back thinking everything would be different,” she continued, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “I thought if I came back successful, I could change their minds. But they’ve already planned everything. They’ve arranged my marriage to someone I’ve never met… and there’s nothing I can do about it.”

Steve’s heart sank as he heard the desperation in her voice. He wanted to scream, wanted to fight, to tell her that she didn’t deserve this, that she didn’t have to go through this alone. But instead, he just wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into his chest, offering her the one thing he could give—comfort.

“You’re not alone, [Y/N],” he said quietly, his voice soft but firm. “I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

She pressed her face against his chest, her tears soaking through his shirt. “You don’t understand. You don’t know what it’s like… to be trapped like this, with no way out. I can’t even run anymore.”

Steve tightened his hold on her, feeling the weight of her pain in his bones. He had faced his fair share of burdens, of being trapped by duty, but this—this was different. She wasn’t bound by a war or a mission. She was bound by a life she hadn’t chosen, a future her parents had decided for her.

“You don’t have to do this alone,” he said again, his voice hoarse. “We’ll figure this out. I don’t know how, but I’m not going to let them take you from your life.”

She pulled back slightly, her face streaked with tears, her breath ragged. Her eyes searched his, looking for any sign that he truly meant it. That he wasn’t just saying what he thought she wanted to hear.

“I don’t even know how to fight this anymore,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “They have everything… They control everything. And I just wanted to live my life. I just wanted a chance to choose.”

Steve cupped her face gently in his hands, wiping away her tears with his thumbs. “And you will. We’ll find a way. You’re not stuck. I promise you that.”

The tension between them was thick, raw, and emotional. It wasn’t just about the fight against her parents. It was about everything that had been left unsaid, everything that had been building between them. The air between them crackled with unspoken words, a connection that had been forged over the past couple of days but hadn’t fully been explored until now.

“I can’t let you go through this alone,” Steve said, his voice low and steady. “Not now. Not ever.”

She searched his eyes, and for a long moment, neither of them spoke. There was a tension in the air—an unspoken connection that hung between them like a spark, waiting for someone to ignite it. Steve wasn’t sure who moved first, but before he could think twice, [Y/N] closed the distance, her lips meeting his in a kiss that was both tender and urgent. The world seemed to fall away in that instant, leaving just the two of them in the quiet of the night, where nothing else mattered.

When they finally pulled apart, their breaths shallow, [Y/N] looked at him, her eyes searching his face. “I never wanted to drag you into this, Steve,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “I don’t want to hurt you, but I’m scared.”

Steve cupped her face gently, his thumb tracing the curve of her cheek. “You’re not dragging me into anything, [Y/N]. I want to be here. With you.” His voice was steady, but the emotion behind it was raw and real. “Whatever happens, we’ll figure it out. Together.”

She nodded, her lips trembling as she tried to hold back more tears. “But it’s too much. This wedding, this whole thing… it was supposed to be my escape, and now it feels like my worst nightmare.”

Steve leaned his forehead against hers, the cool air of the night brushing against them. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to steady the turmoil inside of him. “Look, maybe this doesn’t mean much in the grand scheme of things,” he said quietly, almost to himself. “But you’ve got me, [Y/N]. You don’t have to pretend like it doesn’t matter to me. It means something. And I’m not going anywhere.”

Her eyes softened at his words, and despite the storm of emotions, she found comfort in his touch, in the sincerity in his eyes. The tension between them was palpable, but in that moment, it wasn’t just about what they had, or the mess of their circumstances. It was about a promise—unspoken but understood—that they would face this together, no matter what it took.

“I can’t promise things will be easy,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “But… maybe if you stay, if we try, we could figure this out. Together.”

Steve kissed her forehead softly, brushing a stray tear from her cheek. “We’ll figure it out,” he promised. “You’re not alone in this, [Y/N]. Not anymore.”

And as they stood there, under the stars, in a moment that felt timeless, Steve knew one thing for sure—whatever came next, he wasn’t going to let her face it without him.

The air in Steve’s hotel room felt different now, quieter, heavier. The events of the day hung between them, both the wedding and the weight of [Y/N]’s revelation. After the drive back to the beach, she had refused to go back home, not wanting to face the reality that awaited her. Steve had insisted she stay with him for the night—there was no way he could let her face everything alone, especially now. He didn’t know what to do, but he knew he couldn’t just stand by and do nothing.

Sitting at the edge of the bed, Steve rubbed a hand over his face, his mind racing with possible ways to help her. He wanted to be her knight in shining armor, but he couldn’t simply waltz in and fix things with a few words. She was trapped—her passport, her future, everything—locked away by the people who were supposed to love and protect her.

“[Y/N], I…” He trailed off, not quite sure how to say what he was thinking. “I’ll figure something out.”

She was curled up in the armchair by the window, gazing out at the city lights, her expression distant. She didn’t speak for a long time. She didn’t need to. She didn’t need to tell him how much it hurt, how much it all stung—he could see it in her eyes. The hopelessness, the exhaustion. The realization that this wasn’t just a fight for freedom. It was a fight for her entire life.

Suddenly, something clicked in Steve’s mind. He turned to face her, the idea solidifying. “What if I could help you get out of here?” he asked, voice low but urgent.

Her eyes flickered toward him, but the sadness in them didn’t fade. “What do you mean?”

He ran a hand through his hair. “I can pull some strings. They have resources—people who can help you, maybe even with getting a passport or finding a way to go somewhere else for a while. You don’t have to stay here. You don’t have to stay trapped in this.”

She shook her head, the weight of the thought sinking in. “But they’ll come for me, Steve. My family…” She trailed off, biting her lip. “I don’t think I can escape them.”

Steve stepped closer, his gaze locking on hers. “I’m not going to let you go through this alone. You’ve got more options than you realize.” He looked down, something catching his throat. He had a lot of connections, but even with all that, he wasn’t sure if it would be enough. But he’d damn well try.

Then, another thought hit him, and he stood, moving toward the table where the papers were scattered. The Mustang. It had been his escape for the weekend, a symbol of freedom, but now it was a tool he could use for her. “I rented it for the trip,” he said, his mind working. “But maybe… I can buy and sell it. Use the funds to help you get started, to give you a little cushion until we figure out your next move.”

Her eyes widened, and she opened her mouth to protest, but Steve cut her off before she could speak. “It’s not much, but it’s something. You’re not going to keep fighting this alone.”

[Y/N] stared at him for a moment before shaking her head. “I can’t accept that, Steve. You know I can’t, it’s expensive and it’s too much work.”

He met her gaze, determination in his eyes. “You mean so much more to me than a car, [Y/N].” The words came out before he could stop them, and his chest tightened at the vulnerability in his own voice. “I’m not going to leave you to deal with this on your own. Not now, not ever.”

Her eyes softened, but there was still a sadness there. “I don’t know if I can go back to my family, Steve. I don’t think I can survive that again.”

A surge of protectiveness ran through him. He stepped closer to her, his hand reaching out, but he hesitated just before it touched her. “I won’t let them get you.” His voice was rough, but there was an undeniable sincerity to it.

[Y/N] looked down at the table for a moment, then back to him. “I don’t know what I’d do without you,” she whispered.

Without thinking, Steve gently cupped her face in his hands, tilting her head to meet his eyes. The moment felt suspended, like the world had stilled just for them. He leaned in slowly, as if asking for permission before pressing his lips against hers.

It wasn’t a kiss of passion, not at first. It was soft, tender, like a promise—an unspoken agreement that no matter what happened next, they wouldn’t have to face it alone. The kiss deepened as the weight of everything—the pressure, the fear, the hope—flooded through them both.

When they pulled back, Steve reached into his pocket, feeling out the small, simple ring he had kept for years—a ring that had once been meant for Peggy. It was never given, never worn, but he had carried it with him as a relic from the past, a piece of his lost future with her. But it had also been something else—a lucky charm, a symbol of what was lost, but also what he might still be capable of.

As he looked at [Y/N], a memory flashed in his mind—the conversation with Sharon, her words weighing heavily on his heart.

You’re still carrying her with you, Steve.

Those words had haunted him. He had spent so long carrying Peggy’s memory, holding onto the past, thinking it was the only way forward. But at this moment, it hit him.

Maybe Peggy’s spirit had always been willing him to move on. To let go of the relics of the past, to make space for something new, something real. He didn’t need to carry that ring anymore. He could finally let it go.

[Y/N] looked up at him, and for the first time that night, she smiled—a real smile, the kind that reached her eyes. “Thank you,” she whispered. “I don’t know what’s coming next, but… I’ll trust you.”

Steve nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips as he sat beside her, his arm around her shoulders. For a moment, everything felt as it should be—like the world outside didn’t matter, and the only thing that mattered was the two of them.

The following morning, Steve awoke to the soft sound of the ocean waves crashing against the shore. The room was dim, the early light creeping in through the windows. He turned his head and saw [Y/N] still asleep, curled up next to him. Her breathing was steady, peaceful, a stark contrast to the chaos of the night before.

Today was his last day in Barbados.

They hadn’t solved everything, not yet, but they had taken the first step. They had found each other in a moment of vulnerability, and for once, the world outside felt a little less pressing. He smiled softly, brushing a few strands of hair from her face, his fingers lingering on her skin.

As he watched her, his thoughts turned to Peggy—her memory, her spirit—but now it felt like a distant ache, not a tether keeping him bound to the past. Peggy had been a part of his journey, but he had learned that it was okay to move on, to let go. The future, whatever it held, didn’t need to be defined by what was lost. It could be shaped by what was right in front of him—[Y/N], a new beginning, a chance to build something of their own.

[Y/N] stirred and slowly opened her eyes, her gaze meeting his. A soft smile appeared on her lips as she stretched, still half asleep.

“Morning,” she whispered, her voice still thick with the remnants of sleep.

“Morning,” Steve replied, his heart light, despite everything they still had to face. “How are you feeling?”

She paused for a moment, her eyes searching his as if weighing the sincerity in his words. She glanced down in lost thought before meeting his gaze again. “I’m… okay,” she said quietly. “It’s a long road ahead, Steve. But I don’t feel so lost anymore.”

Steve nodded, his hand gently caressing her arm. “We’ll take it one step at a time. I’ll help you with whatever comes next. We’ll figure it out together.”

Her eyes softened, and she gave a small nod. She wasn’t fully healed, and there was a long way to go, but there was hope now. And that was enough.

The sun had fully risen by the time Steve and [Y/N] were ready to face the world again. After the heartfelt conversation the night before, it felt like they had made strides, but the morning light brought a sobering clarity.

Steve stood at the window of the hotel room, staring out at the endless horizon, the weight of his duty pressing down on him. He had known this moment would come. He had always known that being with [Y/N] was a fleeting thing, a brief escape from the responsibilities he could never quite shake off. There was a sense of urgency in his chest, a reminder of the mission waiting for him, the world that still needed saving.

[Y/N] had showered and dressed in silence, her face still pale from the weight of everything she’d gone through. She moved quietly around the room, packing her things as if trying to avoid the inevitable. She hadn’t said it, but Steve could feel her resistance. The distance between them had already started to stretch.

He turned away from the window as she sat on the edge of the bed, looking small in the oversized hotel robe. She wasn’t meeting his gaze, and he couldn’t blame her. She had put everything on the line to be with him, only to have to face the reality that they couldn’t have a future together—not now, at least.

“I’ve been thinking,” Steve began, his voice steady but tinged with regret. “I might be able to help you get out of here, help you get your life back. Maybe through SHIELD… I’ll make sure you’re safe, that you have a way out of this. I’ll talk to the director.”

[Y/N] didn’t respond immediately. She just stared at her hands in her lap, her fingers trembling ever so slightly.

“I don’t want you to do this for me, Steve,” she finally said, her voice barely above a whisper. “You have a life… your duty. You don’t have to fix this for me. I’ll find a way out, one way or another. I’ve been running from this for years. I can handle it.”

Steve clenched his jaw, fighting the frustration bubbling up. “You shouldn’t have to,” he said quietly, walking over to where she sat. He crouched in front of her, his hands resting gently on her knees. “You deserve better than this. You deserve more than a life of being pushed around by other people’s choices.”

Her eyes finally met his, and for a moment, they just looked at each other, the weight of the world between them. “I thought… I thought I could have a different life,” she said softly, her voice breaking as she blinked back tears. “But I don’t know how to get away from this. I don’t know how to get out.”

Steve took a deep breath, his heart aching for her. The situation wasn’t fair, and he couldn’t give her the kind of life she deserved. Not right now.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out the wedding ring. It was strange, how something so tied to the past had suddenly become a symbol of hope for the future. He had carried it for too long, unsure of whether he would ever move on, but now it felt right.

He placed the ring in [Y/N]’s hand, his fingers lingering on hers for a moment. “I can’t stay, [Y/N]. You know that,” he said softly. “But this… this is for you. It meant a lot to me for a while, and now I want you to have it so you remember that you’re not alone. You’re stronger than you know, and one day, you’ll find your way out of all this. I believe that.”

[Y/N] held the ring in her hand, her fingers wrapping around it as if it were the last thing tethering her to a future she wasn’t sure she could have. Her tears finally spilled over, and she let out a shaky breath.

“You’re leaving, aren’t you?” she asked, her voice breaking.

Steve nodded, standing up and giving her one last, lingering look. “I have to. There’s a world that still needs saving, and I can’t turn my back on it. But you’ll be okay. I know you will.”

[Y/N] nodded slowly, wiping her eyes as she looked at him one last time. “I’ll find a way… to make things right. I will.”

They stood there in silence for a moment, the weight of what they couldn’t have settling between them. Steve reached down and gently cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing away a stray tear.

“I’ll never forget you,” he said quietly, his voice thick with emotion. “And maybe one day… if the world isn’t too broken, we’ll find a way back to each other.”

She nodded, her heart torn, but she knew the truth of his words. They were both tied to duty, to the things that had shaped their lives. But that didn’t mean they couldn’t remember the good, the fleeting moments of peace they had shared. They would always have those. “I’ll keep this,” she whispered, holding up the ring. “It’s all I’ll have left of us.”

Steve and [Y/N] spent their final hours together. The air between them was thick with the bittersweetness of time running out, but neither of them wanted to waste a single moment.

They spent the day doing little things that made it feel like time had slowed down. A quiet breakfast by the beach, just the two of them, the waves gently crashing against the shore. They walked along the sand, hand in hand, the sounds of the ocean almost drowning out the world around them. They shared memories, laughter, and stories, as though pretending the weight of the world wasn’t pressing down on them.

But no matter how hard they tried, the reality couldn’t be ignored. Time was slipping through their fingers.

In the afternoon, they sat together on the same spot where they had spent their first evening, the sunset painting the sky with shades of pink, orange, and gold. Steve leaned against a large rock, his arm around [Y/N] as she rested her head on his shoulder, both of them watching the fading light. The silence between them was comfortable, but filled with unspoken words.

“I wish we had more time,” [Y/N] murmured, breaking the stillness. She turned her face toward him, her eyes reflecting the same sorrow he felt.

“I wish I could give it to you,” Steve replied, his voice low. He tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers brushing against her skin like it was the last time he could touch her. “But you’re strong. You’ll be okay. You’ve already come so far.”

She gave him a small smile, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “What about you, Steve? Will you be okay?”

He paused, unsure how to answer. He couldn’t promise her that he’d be okay, not when he had so many things pulling him in different directions. But he knew one thing for sure: this day, this moment, was something he would carry with him for the rest of his life. “I think I will,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

They sat in silence again, just watching the sunset, neither of them willing to let go of the moment.

As the evening wore on, they went back to the hotel, their movements slower now, almost reluctant. Steve knew what was coming. The inevitable parting. And it hurt more than he had expected.

Before he left the room, [Y/N] handed him something—a small, folded piece of paper. He opened it, and inside was a drawing of a Mustang, her version of the car he had rented. On the bottom, she’d written, “For when you’re far away.”

Steve looked at her, his chest tight with emotion. He didn’t know what to say. The words caught in his throat. So, instead, he stepped forward, pulling her into a tight hug. He kissed the top of her head, breathing her in one last time.

“You’ll always have me in your heart,” he whispered, holding her as if he could keep her there forever. [Y/N] nodded, her tears threatening to fall.

“And you’ll always have me, Steve. No matter where you are.”

Steve’s boots clicked against the cold floor of the Avengers compound as he entered, the familiar hum of the place only adds to the weight in his chest. He’d just come back from his brief time away, a time he wasn’t sure how to summarize. It had been a whirlwind, a mixture of emotions he hadn’t expected to feel so deeply. But this sudden vacation had successfully changed him.

As he stepped into the common room, he saw Tony lounging on the couch, his eyes glued to a screen. The moment Steve walked in, Tony looked up with a grin, clearly expecting the usual sarcastic quip.

“So, Cap, how was your vacation?” Tony asked, casually tossing a glance at him.

Steve set down his duffel bag and leaned against the wall, running a hand through his hair. He didn’t quite know how to explain what he’d experienced, what he’d left behind. The memories of [Y/N] lingered in his mind, and they felt like a weight he wasn’t sure how to carry.

“It was… well, it really helped me, Tony,” Steve said quietly, his voice steady, though there was an undercurrent of something deeper there, something he hadn’t figured out how to unpack yet. He glanced out the window for a moment, as though the ocean and the memories of the beach could somehow soothe him. “I didn’t realize how much I needed that time until it was over.”

Tony raised an eyebrow, always quick to read between the lines. But he didn’t push; instead, he took a sip from his glass and leaned back, knowing when not to ask further questions. “Good to hear, Cap. We all need a break now and then.”

Steve nodded but didn’t answer immediately. His mind kept drifting back to the last day he’d spent with [Y/N]—how they’d spent hours walking along the beach, hand in hand, knowing it was the end of something beautiful but fleeting. He remembered the warmth of the sun on his face, the way her smile had both broken his heart and healed it at the same time. But what hit him hardest was the way they’d parted. There was no easy goodbye, no promise that they would somehow find a way to be together. Just the certainty that life, as it often did, would pull them in different directions.

He couldn’t help but think about that damn Mustang. The one he’d rented for her, the symbol of the escape she had needed so badly. She’d drawn it for him—her version of it, something small and tender that he would hold onto forever. The image of her face, so full of determination and quiet sorrow, was forever etched in his mind.

And yet, he knew he had to leave. He couldn’t stay. Duty was calling, and no matter how much he wanted to, he couldn’t just throw everything away. She had her own future now, a future she had fought so hard to build. And he had his—one that couldn’t afford distractions, no matter how deep the feelings had run.

Tony watched Steve, noticing the faraway look in his eyes. “You’re thinking about her, aren’t you?” he asked casually.

Steve blinked, shaking himself from his thoughts. He hadn’t expected Tony to guess it so quickly, but then again, Tony always had a way of cutting through the bullshit. He didn’t know how to explain what had happened with [Y/N], what they had meant to each other. And he didn’t want to, not yet.

“I am,” Steve admitted softly. “But it doesn’t matter. She’s going to be okay, Tony. I made sure of it.” His voice was low, steady with conviction, but there was something else there—a tinge of regret that he couldn’t quite shake.

Tony studied him for a moment. “That’s good, Cap. But you don’t have to keep it all together all the time, you know? It’s okay to feel like you don’t have all the answers.”

Steve chuckled softly, the humor in his voice tinged with melancholy. “I’m still figuring that out.”

Steve had made sure [Y/N] left before him and was taken care of before he made his departure. He had called in every favor, using his influence and SHIELD’s resources to ensure she could leave her old life behind and start fresh. After everything that happened, she deserved a chance at freedom. Her parents’ control over her life, the arranged marriage, had weighed heavily on her shoulders for so long. But now, with Steve’s help, [Y/N] was free.

With her new identity, a fresh passport, and a financial cushion, she had the chance to build her future on her own terms. Steve knew she had the strength to make something of herself, but it wouldn’t be easy. He’d made sure she had the right people backing her, a network of allies who could help her navigate her new life, far from the constraints of her family’s expectations.

She was enrolling in a prestigious university overseas, something she’d always dreamed of but never had the opportunity to do before. The freedom she’d fought for was within reach. Her family would never understand, but she didn’t care anymore. She wasn’t the person they had tried to mold her into. She had become her own woman.

But just leaving wasn’t simple. The scars of her past, her family’s rejection, and the haunting memories of the arranged marriage still lingered. She had to rebuild herself from the ground up, and Steve had been there for her every step of the way, even from afar, even if she didn’t directly know it. He’d given up a part of himself—his heart, his peace of mind—just to make sure she was safe and had a future. He’d set things in motion to ensure she had a chance to be the person she wanted to be, even if it meant not being able to stay in her life.

He’d watched her go, knowing that despite everything they shared, they could never be together. She was on her own now, and Steve had to let her go. His duty, his responsibilities, and the life he led as Captain America had always come first. But that didn’t stop him from caring for her, or from wondering what might have been, if only circumstances were different.

As the plane took off, [Y/N] looked out the window, leaving behind the life that had almost consumed her. Steve’s name echoed in her heart, but she knew she couldn’t look back. She had to keep moving forward. She had her own life to live now, and she would make it count. For him.

She was heading down a different path now, one of independence, of freedom. He had made sure she had the support she needed, and as much as he wished things had turned out differently, he knew he had to let her go.

Later, as Steve stood in the hallway, his hand on the door to his room, he took one last deep breath. He thought of [Y/N], of the way her eyes had sparkled in the fading light of the sun, of the way her smile had broken his heart. He thought of fading tattoo, of the Mustang and the promise of freedom she had now, and the one thing he had given her—something simple but meaningful: a wedding ring.

It wasn’t his first choice. It wasn’t even his second. It was the one he should’ve given Peggy, the one he carried with him for years as a reminder of what could have been. But now, it had found its way to [Y/N]—the woman who had made him feel something more than duty, more than responsibility. He couldn’t keep carrying it, couldn’t keep living in the shadow of his past. He had to let go.

The ring was a relic. It didn’t matter anymore. What mattered was that, for once, he had lived in the moment.

For Steve, it was the kind of love that burned brightly—intense, fleeting, and beautiful. Like an American wedding, it brimmed with promise, a celebration of what could be. But some things, no matter how luminous, aren’t meant to endure. And maybe that was okay. Because even in its brevity, it left something lasting—a healing fragment of her, etched into his once broken heart, immune to the passage of time.

And like an American divorce, it became a love story confined to memories—bittersweet and unfinished. They both knew it could never be more, but the echoes of it lingered, quietly shaping the man he would become.

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dividers ©️ @k1ssyoursister + @cyberbeat + @atinystaypixie .

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literaryavenger · 1 year ago

Text

I love you and I hate it - part 2

Summary: After your fight with Bucky, you put all your efforts into avoiding him, convinced that your friendship is over. Bucky, however, has other plans.

Pairing: Best Friend!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Warnings: Reader being dramatic. Angst. Language maybe. Minimal use of Y/N. Fluff. My poor attempts at being funny.

Word Count: 4.5K

A/N: I promise I didn't mean to make it this long, but I couldn't help myself, again, and I didn't want to end on another 'cliffhanger' so here it is! hope you like it!

Part 1

Masterlist

Bucky can't believe what he just heard... You like him?

No, you used the word ‘love’. You love him.

Do you love him?

Certainly, he would’ve noticed if you did... Right? He is a trained assassin, he was taught how to see beyond people’s words and actions.

And he knows you, you can deny it all you want, but he knows you better than anyone. He knows you better than he knows himself.

And if he’s being honest, you know him better than anyone ever has, Steve included.

You feel safe, you feel calm. You feel like the peace he’s always wanted, the quiet he needs.

You feel like home. In a platonic way, of course.

Right?

His thoughts of you are interrupted by Sharon’s voice. He didn’t even realize he was back at the party.

"Where did you go?" she asks and, suddenly, her grip on his arm was just a little too tight for his liking. But it was probably nothing.

"I went to check if Y/N was okay."

"Oh." something in her voice felt wrong, but Bucky tried to ignore it, that is until what she said next.

"Why would you even care about her? All she does is embarrass you like before. She’s useful to no one, I heard the only reason she’s even on the team is because she slept her way to it." she laughed like it was the funniest thought in the world, and Bucky couldn’t ignore it anymore.

Not only was she saying hurtful, untrue things about his girl, but she has the audacity to laugh at her own cruelty?

"How dare you?" he does his best not to yell, but his tone still startles Sharon. "Y/N is the best agent in all of Shield, that’s why she got in the team! She’s not an embarrassment, she’s a valued member of our family and she’s my best friend! Of course I care about her, she’s the most important person in my life! Don’t ever talk about her that way again."

Sharon seems shocked at his words but, looking around, she realizes people are starting to stare so she tries her best to defuse the situation. "Alright, I’m sorry, I won’t say things like that again. Let’s just calm down and have a nice rest of the evening, ok?"

In his head Bucky knew her request was reasonable, he could forget about this and keep having fun with his girlfriend. But in his heart he just knew he couldn’t let it go.

The words were coming out of his mouth before he can stop them, not that he even wants to.

"You know what, Sharon? This isn’t working. We have to break up." He doesn’t even give her a chance to say anything before he’s turning around and making his way to his room.

Meanwhile, on the roof, Steve’s trying to talk you down the ledge. Metaphorically speaking, obviously.

"He hates me, Steve." you can't stop the tears.

"Stop saying that, sweetheart, he doesn’t hate you."

"You saw what happened at the party, the way he looked at me. And he heard me say that I love him and walked away like it was nothing." You sniffle. "If he didn’t hate me before, this certainly pushed him off the edge."

Steve has nothing to say to that, he knows Bucky doesn't hate you, but he also knows that you’re too stubborn to hear any reason, especially not right now when you're in the eye of the tornado and can't see a way out.

Right now you need a friend and shoulder to cry on, usually Bucky would take on that role, but, given the circumstances, Steve decides to step up and be that friend.

He wraps his arms around your crying body and holds you as you let it all out. Neither of you say anything else, the only sounds in the dark of the night being your sobs, until eventually you calm down and after a few moments of silence Steve glances down to see you fell asleep.

Not wanting to wake you he carefully picks you up and makes his way to the elevator.

When he gets to the floor you both reside in he finds Sam and Natasha chatting at the kitchen counter, probably about to go to bed after coming up from the party.

Sam gives him a confused look, while Nat seems to understand what is going on right away as she moves without saying a word, walking ahead of Steve towards your room.

She opens the door for him and walks in behind, moving the covers back as he lays you on your bed as carefully as he can, and then Nat delicately takes your heels off before covering you with the duvet.

As they’re leaving your room the door opposite yours opens, revealing a hopeful Bucky but when he sees it’s not you, his face becomes stoic once again. He’s about to ask where you are when Natasha beats him to the punch.

"Leave her alone, Barnes. You’ve hurt her enough already." Is all she says before she steps into her own bedroom.

Bucky looks to his best friend for help but, at his confused face, the blonde super soldier just shakes his head in disappointment and walks away without a word.

Bucky stands there for a few minutes, just staring at your door like he's gonna will you to open it and talk to him.

He sighs and goes back to his room where he spends the next few hours overthinking about you and this whole night, eventually falling into an uneasy sleep.

The next morning when you wake up you feel at peace for about 10 seconds before the events of last night hit you like a truck, and all you can feel is humiliation.

How can you face the team after they witnessed your fight with Bucky?

How can you face Steve after he saw you at your most vulnerable and, apparently, carried you to bed after you cried yourself to sleep?

How can you face Bucky after he heard you say you love him and he walked away from you?

You can’t, that’s the answer.

Should you just move out? Just quit the team, ask Hill to be reassigned? Maybe you could even get transferred to another country...

You’re not overreacting, right? This is a very embarrassing situation and you have every right to want to run away from all of it.

As you’re making up an escape plan in your mind you hear a knock on your door, followed by Steve’s voice. "Hey, are you awake? We just want to make sure you're okay…"

You try to be as silent as you can, slowing down your breathing praying he’ll think you’re sleeping.

You can hear him exchange some muffled words with what sounds like Natasha, and then you hear their footsteps as they walk away, so you let out a relieved sigh.

Okay, step one is definitely getting out of this room, it’s just the most obvious place where to look for you.

You get up and out of your awfully classy dress, take a shower being sure to clean away all the makeup from last night and put on the most comfortable sweats you own.

Just as you’re opening the door you can see Bucky opening his about to get out and, in a panic move, you run back inside your room and slam the door shut.

Very subtle, yes.

You rest your back against the door and can hear him sigh and then walk away.

You wait a few minutes, just to be sure, and then relax a little. Your plan was to go to the gym and work out a bit, but now all you can think about is getting the hell out of this compound.

You grab your purse, make sure to have your phone and keys in it and open the door, making sure no one’s around before getting out.

You’re practically running, taking the stairs for good measure, and in a flash you’re at the garage. You jump in your car and drive away as fast as you can without breaking the law, not even knowing where to go.

Once you’re in the city you stop at a cafe for breakfast near your favorite book store, the one you and Bucky have visited together a hundred times.

Okay, stop that. No more thinking about Bucky.

You spend the rest of the day just going from one store to the other, stopping to have lunch at the diner you always go to when you’re in the city, and trying not to kick yourself for not being able to stop thinking about Bucky.

Seriously, why can’t you stop thinking about him?

It doesn’t help the fact that every one of your favorite places has at least a hundred and twelve memories of Bucky.

God, have you ever gone anywhere on your own in the last two years?

The more memories come to mind the more you think that maybe transferring wouldn’t be such a bad idea. Go somewhere new, get a fresh start.

When it starts getting dark you decide to drive back to the compound, but when you park and turn the car off you can’t find it in yourself to get out.

You take out your phone, which you’ve been ignoring all day, and go through all the messages of your worried friends, hating yourself a little more when you catch yourself looking for his name in your notifications.

Just as you’re about to answer Tony’s texts first, you get a call from Steve. You stare at your phone, unsure if you can stomach answering him right now, but your decision is rendered moot when someone taps against your car window.

Your head snaps towards it and you let out a breath of relief when you see Steve standing there, holding his phone and using it to tap on your window again.

You close your eyes for a second but resign to your fate as you gather your things and get out of the car.

When you lock your car you turn to see that Steve moved to be leaning on the trunk of your car, so you join him and wait for him to say something, not knowing what to say yourself.

"So," he starts, with his arm folded in front of his chest and looking at his shoes "you’re avoiding all of us now?" You let out a sigh, feeling bad for hurting his feelings.

"I’m sorry, Steve. I just…" you can’t even look at him as you talk, so you just look ahead of you at all the cars "I’m just embarrassed. After everything that happened last night, I don’t know… God, you even carried me to bed like a child." you cover your face with your hands.

You finally look at him when you hear him chuckling. "That’s what friends do, Y/N. They lean on each other." he bumps your shoulder with his playfully.

"I know we’re not as close as you and Bucky, but I am your friend too. I’m not gonna judge you for last night, I just want to make sure you’re okay. That’s what we all want. You made us worry that you might run away on us." He says the last part as a joke, but you can’t help looking away from him.

That’s exactly what you wanted to do.

You bite your lip as he keeps looking at you and you feel like he can see the gears turning in your head, like your thoughts are so loud and your guilt so visible that he knows right away he was right on the money.

"Y/N…" it’s almost a warning, but you still can’t find the courage to look at him. "You were seriously thinking of running away?!" he seems almost shocked.

"Okay, it’s not like I’m a teenager running away in the middle of the night after a fight with her parents!" you finally look at him. "I was just considering… I don’t know, maybe asking for a transfer?"

"So you actually want to leave the team just because you had a fight with Bucky?" He scoffs.

"It’s not just the fight, Steve, he knows I love him and he doesn’t even care!" You yell before sighing and lovering your voice.

"Do you realize how much that hurts? And now I’m supposed to, what? Just go back to how things used to be? Pretend like nothing happened? Even if we’re not friends anymore, he lives across the hall from me! I’m bound to see him and it’s gonna hurt every fucking time!" You’re almost crying, again, but you hold back not wanting to go through that again and you look away.

"I know it hurts, trust me, sweetheart, but… what about us?" you look at him again as he goes on. "We’re your team too. We’re your friends, we’re your family... You can’t just leave us. I'm not saying it's gonna be easy, but we can help you make it better. We all care about you a lot." It’s honestly a miracle you’re not crying already. You feel him take your hand, but don’t look away from his face.

"Please let us help you." you squeeze his hand and nod, not trusting your voice not to break and the flood to hit as soon as you open your mouth.

He smiles at you and you can’t help but do the same. "Good. Then let’s go up and have dinner like we always do." He starts walking and taking you with him, his hand still in yours.

While you’re waiting for the elevator you can’t hold yourself back as you turn to him and give him a tight hug. "Thank you."

He hugs you back just as tight. "Anytime, rookie." you snort and let go of him, giving him a punch in the arm you’re sure he didn’t even feel as he laughs with you.

When you get to the big kitchen most of the team is already there and you sit down next to Natasha while Steve sits at her other side.

The seat next to you is quickly occupied by Sam as he bings the pizza to the table. He gives you a side hug and squeezes your arm in sympathy but aside from that nobody even mentioned what happened last night, which you're grateful for.

You eat like always, having conversations, laughing and teasing each other like normal, you didn’t feel like anyone was pitying you and you realized Steve was right: these people are your family, you could never leave them.

And, as you watch Loki and Peter trying to make you laugh by messing with Thor’s hair, putting tiny umbrellas in it while he's not looking, you just know they’re gonna help you through everything.

What makes you sad to notice is that one brooding super soldier is missing, though you don’t bring it up for fear of opening that particular door.

And that’s how you spend the next few weeks: avoiding anything and everything that has to do with Bucky, including the man himself.

You start training with Natasha and realize how easy Bucky went on you.

You do more missions with Sam and Steve and realize that missions aren't as fun for everybody as they were for you and Bucky.

You hang out during your down time with pretty much everyone and realize that you couldn’t have as much fun with everyone as you had with Bucky.

So yeah, as much as you could avoid Bucky and talking about him to anybody, he lived rent free in your head.

Fun, huh?

It also didn’t help the look that Steve gave you every time you basically ran out of a room as soon as you caught a glimpse of your former best friend.

Everybody noticed the change in your friendship, but it felt like they all took a silent oath to not mention anything to either of you, and you were glad they were respecting your choice to stay away from Bucky.

He, on the other hand, was going crazy.

He hasn’t seen you in weeks, except for those few seconds before you realize he’s in the same room and run away.

He doesn’t hear your voice unless he’s eavesdropping on you with someone else, but even then he never hears his name come out of your mouth.

Nobody will tell him anything about you, the only thing he can get out of Steve is ‘she’s okay, just give her time’.

He’s been trying his best to give you the space you need, but he feels like he’ll lose his mind if he doesn’t hear you say his name soon.

It’s been a month of successfully and not so subtly avoiding Bucky.

There was one time where, as the team about to land for a mission, he got much too close to you for your liking and you thought he was about to say something so you grabbed a parachute and quite literally jumped out the jet, then walked the rest of the way to the Hydra base.

Everyone had to wait for you, some annoyed, but most found the situation too amusing to be bothered by it.

Anyway.

You’re at the gym for an early morning workout, a habit you took to when you started avoiding Bucky.

You know he usually stays up at night. Occasionally because he still gets nightmares, usually because his overthinking mind tortures him until early hours. So he uses mornings to sleep in when he doesn’t have missions.

You’re on the treadmill when you hear the doors of the gym open behind you but think nothing of it, assuming it’s just Steve replacing his morning run with a workout because it’s too hot to run outside.

When you don’t hear him say anything, you’re about to turn your head to see who it is, but before you can do anything you feel two hands, one cold and one hot, on your waist.

You squeal when they pick you up and take you away from the treadmill, setting you down on the ground in front of it before turning off the machine.

"Bucky, what the fuck?! I could’ve gotten hurt!" you were so shocked you didn’t even fully realize you were actually talking to the person you’ve spent so much time and effort avoiding, or that you were walking backwards while Bucky was getting closer to you.

"Oh please, I’d ever let you get hurt." he’s sounds almost amused, like this is a normal thing between you two, but the truth is he’s just happy that you’re actually talking to him.

When your back hits the wall you realize too late that it’s Bucky in front of you and suddenly you’re looking around you to find a way to escape. But all you find is that he’s successfully trapped you between the wall and his body, his hands on the wall at either side of your head.

You swallow hard and if he notices he doesn’t say anything, but your brain is too busy registering the warmth of his body so close to yours to even be ashamed right now.

"Is this the only way I’ll get to talk to you now?" you almost miss his question, your eyes snapping up to meet his and, where you expected to see a smug look at having caught you not only off guard but also ogling, you found a frown and a slight pout.

Something about the hurt on his face stopped you from lying or straight up kicking him so he’d move and you could run away.

No, Bucky was your best friend, you’ve always felt the need to be honest with him ever since that first day, and even now you owe it to him to tell him nothing but the truth.

"I just need time." You hoped he understood.

"How much more time do you need?" Apparently not.

"I don’t know, can’t you just be patient?" You can't believe you really have to ask him this.

"It’s been a month, doll, I think I’ve been plenty patient. Are you planning on avoiding me forever?"

"Not forever… just… I don’t know." If you were being honest with yourself, you didn’t know how long you would’ve kept on avoiding him.

You were so busy doing the actual avoiding that you didn’t take the time to think about when you’d be able to stop.

You let out a sigh, but didn’t look away from his eyes for a second. He needs to know you meant every word you're about to say. "I was hurting, Bucky. I still am. I get that you have a girlfriend-"

"I broke up with her." he interrupts you.

"You… What?" you weren’t expecting that. "When?"

"The night of our fight. I would’ve told you sooner but it was hard to catch you, you know, with you avoiding me and everything."

You almost lost your train of thought, but it didn’t matter that he was single, he was still the first one to walk away, why was it so wrong for you to do it now?

"It doesn’t matter… I know you don’t owe me anything, but you walked away from me. From my feelings." you can see Bucky’s confusion so, before he can say anything, you explain yourself.

"That night on the roof. I know you were there, you heard me say that I loved you and you walked away like it was nothing. Like I was nothing. I know you don’t like me like that, and I can live with that in time, but it hurt. It still hurts." you don’t know what you were expecting him to say, but it definitely wasn’t he says next.

"Do you remember the day we met?" you furrow your brows in confusion but he waits for you to nod before he keeps going. "We’ve never really talked about it, have we? It's ironic since we’ve talked about pretty much every topic we could possibly come up with. But that day, you introduced yourself and I just got up and walked away. Kind of what you’ve been doing this past few weeks." he chuckles a bit and you have the impression he's getting closer to your face, but you're probably just imagining that.

"Yeah, I thought I did something wrong, but you were just a rude bitch." he laughs and you can’t help but smile.

"I’m sorry about that, I just… the second I saw you I felt weird. And when you talked to me it was too much, I couldn’t handle it. I didn’t know what I was feeling and my brain just screamed at me to get out, so I did. Then you came to my door and said all those nice things and that weird feeling started to feel more and more comfortable as you talked. It was nice. Then we became friends and I guess I just dismissed that feeling as friendship. It was a different type of friendship that I’d never had... But then again I’ve never been this close to a woman. Emotionally speaking, of course." His hand comes to cup your cheek and you can’t speak, so he takes the opportunity to say everything he needs to say.

"This month has been hell for me, doll. I’ve missed you more than I’ve ever missed anybody in my entire life. Not being able to spend time with you, joke around, talk to you, barely even see you. It's been driving me insane. Being away from you for so long made me realize what that feeling was. You’re not just my best friend, you’re my person. You’re my calm, and my reason. You’re my happiness, my home. You’re the love of my life."

"What?" you're basically whispering, so quietly you’re sure he wouldn’t have heard you if he didn’t have super hearing.

"I love you too, doll. I love you." he holds your face in his hands "I love you."

You feel like your brain shut down all of a sudden. You barely know how to breathe, let alone talk. All you can do is stare at him, the look he's giving you making you weak in the knees.

"You’re killing me here, doll. For the love of god, say something, angel." The nickname seems to snap you out of it, and there's only one thing in your mind left to ask.

"If you love me, why didn’t you tell me on the roof?" He let out a deep sigh, you can feel his breath on your lips, but you try your hardest to focus on his words and not his lips.

"For one I was still with Sharon. And I didn’t really know what I was feeling. Also, I wasn’t even sure you were serious. Honestly, I was just confused about the whole thing, and still mad about the fight. Nothing good would’ve come from me staying and talking to you that night. I probably would’ve ended up hurting you more." All that makes a lot of sense, sure, but it doesn't change the fact that it hurt.

The look in Bucky’s face at the moment though makes you want to forgive him right this second and let this whole thing go. Pretend like the last month didn’t happen.

So that’s what you do.

"What if…" you start, looking back and forth between his eyes and his lips "what if we forget all of this happened?"

"No." he answered so fast and firmly that it made you furrow your eyebrows in confusion and disappointment. "I don’t want to forget anything about us, doll. Good or bad, it’s all worth it, as long as it ends with you in my arms."

You're melting and can't hold yourself back, you grab his face and bring his lips down to yours.

He freezes, probably not expecting it, but when you're about to pull away, he holds your face to keep you there, deepening the kiss.

After a few moments you hear someone clear their throat and almost throw Bucky off of you, looking behind him while he turns to see who it is and you see Steve and Sam standing there, amused looks on their faces.

"We were just talking." You blurted out and Sam cracked and almost doubled over with laughter.

"Really?" Steve said while raising an eyebrow, almost exasperated and knowing damn well what you were doing.

"Sure they were, Steve, she was obviously trying to get the word out of his mouth!" Sam said to the blonde, still laughing his ass off.

"Oh, of course she was. Tell us, sweetheart, what did you find in Bucky’s mouth?" Steve was now laughing too, and you were so embarrassed you hid your face in Bucky’s chest.

He wrapped his arms around you, barely glaring at the two laughing idiots. "Ok, just get out of here, punks." Fortunately for once in their lives they decided to actually listen and left, their laughs echoing through the halls.

"You okay there, doll?" Bucky was now chuckling at your embarrassment.

You raised your head and, meeting his eyes, you said "I can’t believe Captain Dumbass is making fun of us for kissing."

He started laughing and you gladly joined him, looking forward to making up for the time you missed with him, unknowingly promising each other to never let go of the other ever again.

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