#Steve rogers x Peggy carter

[angelremnants]

Roll Call | J. B. Barnes

THREE. Orders and Oaths

summary : The biting winters of 1943 paled in comparison to the frozen hearts of soldiers, weary and broken by the unrelenting call of war. For men burdened by despair, the burn of alcohol was the only warmth they knew. Sergeant Barnes lived for one purpose: to stand by his best friend’s side, no matter where the battlefield led them. But a chance encounter at a dimly lit bar near the military camp changes everything. A young woman, bold yet gentle, awakens something in him—a spark long buried beneath years of frost and pain. Inspired by Roll Call by The Neighborhood.

pairings : James ''Bucky'' Barnes x f!reader, implied!Steve Rogers x Margaret Elizabeth "Peggy" Carter

warnings : Mature themes (+13), heavy angst, emotional distress (arguments, grief and heartbreak), mentions of kidnapping, implied violence, implied major character's death. Proceed with caution if you're sensitive to such material.

word count : 5.2k

(ao3 version)

It was another quiet night at the diner. [Y/N] moved methodically through her shift, wiping down counters and taking orders with a distracted air. She hadn’t seen Bucky in days. Her lunch boxes were always gone by the time she checked, but his responses had become increasingly scarce. She’d sent him notes, slipped them into the post office, but he never replied. She tried not to think too much of it, but the anxiety had been gnawing at her more and more.

The door chimed as it opened, and Peggy stepped in, her usual confident stride slightly subdued. [Y/N] glanced up, offering a smile as she wiped her hands on a rag.

“Peggy, hey,” She greeted, noticing the small, tense smile Peggy wore.

“Hey, [Y/N].” Peggy’s voice had a softness to it as she walked up to the counter, her eyes darting around before locking with her friend’s. “Got a minute?”

“Of course.” [Y/N] nodded, leaning against the counter. “Everything alright?”

Peggy hesitated, as if gathering her thoughts, before she finally spoke. “I just wanted to stop by… say my goodbyes.” She gave a small, self-conscious laugh, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “You know, before everything starts moving too fast.”

[Y/N] tilted her head in confusion. “Goodbyes? Where are you going?”

Peggy glanced around again, her eyes lingering on the door as though ensuring no one was listening. She spoke in a hushed tone. “We’re all being deployed. Some of us, including Bucky.”

[Y/N] felt her stomach drop, her breath catching in her throat. She blinked, trying to make sense of the words. “Bucky? What do you mean? Is he leaving too?” The question was out before she could stop herself, the panic rising in her chest.

Peggy’s face softened with a guilty look. “Yeah, he’s part of the mission. He’s… one of the ones going out with us. Thought you knew.”

[Y/N] felt her heart thumping loudly, her hands shaking slightly as she tried to process the information. “No… I didn’t. He hasn’t said anything.” Her voice was almost a whisper, strained with the sudden weight of the news.

Peggy’s expression shifted into something close to guilt, and she reached out, taking her hand gently. “I didn’t mean to drop that on you. I thought he’d told you. It’s hard, I know. But he’s going, and there’s nothing anyone can do about it.” She paused, her voice quiet now. “It’s a tough situation, and… well, you know how things go.”

[Y/N]’s mind raced. She hadn’t even been given the chance to prepare herself. Bucky, her Bucky, was going into danger, and she hadn’t been told. He had kept his distance, left her in the dark, and now she was left with nothing but worry.

“But why didn’t he tell me?” Her voice trembled, and she pulled her hand back, feeling the sting of betrayal. “Why didn’t he say anything to me? He just… stopped answering my notes and took the lunches, but never said a word.”

Peggy sighed, stepping a little closer. “My guess is that he didn’t want you to worry. He’s always been like that—pushing people away when things get too real. He probably thought it’d be easier if you didn’t know. He didn’t want to burden you with the danger he’s about to face. But he’s doing this because it’s his duty, and he… well, he wants to protect you. It’s not that he doesn’t care.”

[Y/N] looked down, trying to hold back the flood of emotion threatening to spill over. “But I care, Peggy. I care about him more than anything. I just… I don’t want to lose him.”

Peggy’s voice softened, filled with empathy. “I know. And he knows. He’ll come back to you, [Y/N]. He’s strong. But right now, there’s nothing you can do but wait and hope.”

She nodded slowly, her throat tightening with the unshed tears she refused to let fall. “I guess I don’t really have a choice, do I?” Her words were barely audible as she tried to steady herself.

“No, you don’t.” Peggy gave her a small, sad smile, squeezing her shoulder gently. “But just know that he cares about you, and that’s not something he’s ever going to stop. He’ll be alright.”

[Y/N] nodded again, forcing a smile despite the pain in her chest. “Thanks, Peggy. I appreciate you being here. I just… wish I could have had more time.”

Peggy’s smile faltered, but she gave a final, reassuring squeeze before she turned to leave. “Take care of yourself, [Y/N]. He’ll be back before you know it.”

As Peggy disappeared into the night, she stood there, her heart heavy, the weight of the unknown pressing down on her.

Bucky was leaving.

The camp buzzed with activity as soldiers moved with precision, the hum of preparation filling the air. [Y/N]’s heart sank as she clutched the strap of her bag tightly, scanning the sea of uniforms until she spotted him—a flash of dark hair amidst the chaos. Without hesitation, she stormed forward, weaving past the guards.

“James!” she called out, her voice cracking with a mix of anger and fear.

Bucky turned, surprised to hear her voice cutting through the noise. His conversation with Steve halted as he faced her, his brows furrowing.

“[Y/N]? What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” she shot back, her voice trembling. “Why didn’t you tell me about this? Did you think I wouldn’t find out? That I’m just some distraction you can leave behind whenever it suits you?”

“Dollface, I swear, it’s not like that,” Bucky started, stepping closer, but she held up a hand to stop him.

“No. You listen to me!”

Before she could say another word, Bucky grabbed her arm and ushered her into a nearby tent, zipping the flap shut behind them. The sudden silence inside felt suffocating, and the poorly working yellow light was adding discomfort to the ambiance as she glared at him.

“Okay,” he said, raising his hands in surrender. “Before you start tearing me apart like that, just… let me explain.”

[Y/N] crossed her arms, leaning back against the edge of the desk, glaring at him. “Fine. Explain. But this better be good, Barnes.”

Bucky sighed, running a hand through his hair, his shoulders heavy with tension. “We’re being deployed. Steve, Peggy, and I—we’re heading out on a mission. I wanted to tell you, but…” His voice faltered as he looked at her. “I didn’t know how. I was about to write you a letter and leave it at the post office, I thought it would be easier that way.” He glanced at the abandoned parchment lying haphazardly on the desk.

The weight of his words hit her like a blow. “When will you be back?” she asked softly, her voice betraying the fear she was trying to suppress.

He hesitated, his jaw tightening. “I don’t know.”

“Don’t know?” Her chest tightened. “How am I supposed to wait for you if I don’t even know if—” Her voice broke, and she quickly turned away, blinking back tears.

“Doll,” he murmured, stepping closer. “I can’t make promises about the timeline, but I will come back. I swear.”

She turned to him, her gaze sharp, unwilling to let him off so easily. “How can I believe you, Bucky? You’ve been avoiding me for days while planning this. Do you have any idea what it’s like to feel like an afterthought?”

Bucky’s jaw clenched, and suddenly, before she could say another word, he was in front of her, caging her in against the desk. His hands pressed firmly to the surface on either side of her, his chest brushing against hers as his blue eyes bore into hers with an intensity that made her breath hitch.

“[Y/N],” he said, his voice low and steady. “You are not an afterthought. Don’t you ever think that. You’re the reason I fight in the first place. The thought of you is what keeps me going out there, no matter how dark it gets.”

His words hit her like a tidal wave, and she searched his face for any hint of doubt, but all she saw was raw, unfiltered emotion. Her resolve crumbled as he reached out, gently tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

“When you’re out there, in the middle of it all… don’t forget who you are,” [Y/N]’s voice wavered slightly, but she forced herself to stay steady. “You’re not just some soldier. You’re James—you’re more than that.”

Bucky swallowed hard, his eyes shifting away for a moment, clearly struggling with the weight of her words. “I don’t know if I can ever be what you want me to be… what I want to be.”

[Y/N] stepped closer, her hand reaching up to gently turn his face back toward her. “You don’t need to be anything else, Bucky. Just be you. The only thing I wisj for is for you to come back safe.”

He closed his eyes briefly, as if letting her words settle into his heart, before meeting her gaze again. “I’ll try… for you.”

A moment of silence passed, thick with emotion. The air between them was heavy, charged with everything they didn’t want to say but couldn’t ignore. 

“Promise me…” she whispered, her voice trembling. “When you come back, we’ll go skating on the lake. Like the night we kissed for the first time.”

A flicker of surprise passed over his face, followed by a rare, genuine smile—one that wasn’t tainted by sarcasm or bravado. “You really know how to catch a guy off guard, don’t you?”

“Promise me,” she repeated, her voice firmer this time.

“I promise,” he said softly, his lips quirking into that familiar lopsided grin.

The tension between them thickened, and suddenly, as though the urgency of the moment overwhelmed him, Bucky leaned in and kissed her. It wasn’t soft or careful—it was desperate, searing, and full of everything he couldn’t put into words. His hands framed her face, pulling her closer, and she clung to him, memorizing the feel of his touch, his warmth, his love.

When they broke apart, breathless, his forehead rested against hers, and his voice trembled. “That’s so you don’t forget me.”

“As if I ever could,” she whispered, tears slipping down her cheeks.

The tent flap suddenly rustled open, revealing Steve and Peggy. Steve’s expression was apologetic but firm. “Bucky. It’s time.”

Bucky turned back to [Y/N], his blue eyes holding hers as though trying to memorize every detail of her face. “Stay safe, doll,” he murmured before reluctantly stepping away.

She watched as they left the tent, her chest tightening as she followed them outside. The rumble of engines filled the air as they boarded the plane. Steve gave her a reassuring nod, and Peggy offered a quick, sympathetic glance before disappearing inside.

And then, Bucky turned one last time, his figure silhouetted against the gray sky. He raised a hand in farewell, his lopsided grin a stark contrast to the ache in her heart.

The plane roared to life, and she stood frozen as it disappeared into the clouds, not knowing that this would be the last time she’d see him as the man she loved.

The cold metal walls of the Hydra facility pressed in on Bucky from all sides. He had no idea how long he’d been here—days, weeks, months? Time had lost its meaning. His body ached, his mind ached, and all he could hear was the incessant hum of machinery and the cruel whispers of his captors.

He could feel the heavy weight of his body, strapped to the chair, each part of him burning with pain. He had been through so much, the conditioning, the brainwashing, and then the fall from the helicopter—his final mission, the one where everything had gone wrong. They had told him Steve couldn’t save him in time. They told him that he was dead. And in the cold, dark place that was Hydra, a part of him wished he was.

His fingers twitched involuntarily, bound tightly to the chair, but the pain in his wrist didn’t register anymore. He was numb—numb to the sharp bites of the electricity coursing through his veins, numb to the endless experiments they conducted, and most of all, numb to his own identity. Each moment felt like a blur, like pieces of himself were being stripped away, bit by bit until he wasn’t sure who he was anymore.

Then, a voice. A name.

[Y/N].

Her name flickered in his mind like a fragile ember, something too delicate to hold on to but impossible to fully extinguish. He felt his heart lurch, a deep, painful yearning pulling at the remnants of his consciousness. He had to remember.

“[Y/N],” he whispered aloud, his voice raw and cracked. His eyes fluttered shut as her face materialized in his mind—her smile, the warmth of her touch, the way she used to laugh like the world was at her feet.

You’re not just some soldier. You’re James—you’re more than that.

Her words echoed, a soft, loving plea that pierced through the fog of his mind. She had told him that once, and he had believed it—at least, he thought he had. But now? Now, in the darkness, he wasn’t sure who James was anymore. He wasn’t sure if there was anything left of him to salvage.

Stay safe, doll.

Back home, [Y/N] sat frozen in front of the letter, its edges fraying as her hands shook. Another missive, another word of silence. No news. No letters. No sign of Bucky. Every day felt like a punishment—waiting for the man she loved to come home, only to hear that he was missing, lost in the chaos of the war.

Her thoughts flickered back to the last time she had seen him—the last time they had been together. It was supposed to be another mission, just another goodbye. But it had been the last one. She remembered how he had smiled before he left, the warmth of his eyes, and his final words. She hadn’t known then that it would be the last time she would feel his touch.

She didn’t know that the helicopter had been his last hope—he had fallen. She had heard the stories. The whispers. She had held on to a faint hope that it wasn’t true, that he was just missing, lost in the chaos of battle, but her heart had been telling her something else.

Promise me you’ll come back.

Her voice trembled as she whispered into the empty room, as if somehow, by saying it aloud, it might reach him. She remembered how he had promised. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong, that the letters she received—short, distant—were not the man she had fallen in love with.

“He’s still out there,” she muttered to herself, the words slipping out like a fragile mantra. “He’s still out there.” But the longer she waited, the harder it became to believe. The dread settled deep in her chest like a stone she couldn’t lift. Each day without a word felt like a betrayal of the love they shared.

She wandered to the lake—the place where they had first kissed, where they had made those small promises. It was the last place she felt close to him, even though the cold wind nipped at her cheeks and the emptiness pressed against her heart.

I’ll wait for you, she whispered, almost pleading. I’ll wait for you. Please come back.

Her words were swallowed by the wind, just as Bucky’s had been swallowed by the chaos. And still, she waited, knowing that with each passing day, the chance of him returning grew smaller.

Back in the cold, sterile air felt suffocating as Bucky sat alone in the darkened room, hands shackled, unable to move. The room spun around him, a disorienting blur of shapes and sounds as Hydra’s control over him dug deeper into his mind. He could feel their presence like a weight pressing against his skull, trying to pull him further into the haze.

The buzz of machinery was replaced by the sound of a door’s opening mechanism. He opened his eyes, but it wasn’t the guards he expected—it was her. It was [Y/N], standing there in the doorway, looking at him with those wide, hopeful eyes that had always been his anchor.

“Bucky,” she whispered softly, stepping toward him, her voice barely audible but full of such sorrow. She reached for him, her hand brushing the chains that bound him, but she couldn’t touch him. She couldn’t reach him. The image flickered, and he was left alone in the cold, dark cell once more.

[Y/N].

The memories blurred together, fragmented flashes of their time together. He remembered how she had held his hand on the cold winter night, the way she had looked at him with such trust, and the promise she made that they would always have each other, no matter what.

His fingers instinctively reached for the pendant, the one Y/N had given him. It had always been a small, comforting piece of her, tucked securely under his shirt. But now, there was nothing—only the empty space where it once rested against his chest. They had taken it. Hydra had stolen that final piece of connection.

His chest tightened, and his heart ached, but somewhere deep within the fog, there was a glimmer of her. The warmth of her smile. Her voice calling his name. He clenched his eyes shut, trying to hold onto it, but the memory felt slippery, fading with every passing second.

He thought about the pendant—about the engraving she had placed on it. “For when you’re far away.” He had carried it with him, a symbol of the love he had left behind. And now it was gone. But somewhere in the darkest corners of his mind, he could still feel her presence.

But now… now all he could see was the Hydra mask, the cold eyes, the whispers. They had taken him so far from himself, that it felt like the real Bucky was someone he’d never be again.

If only he could remember more.

Back in the quiet of her room, [Y/N] sat alone in the dim light of her room, the weight of the watch in her hands pressing into her palm. It had always been there, just like Bucky’s presence. A watch with a small compartment behind the face where a picture could be hidden—one that Bucky had given her, just before the chaos had started when she first began to notice that time wasn’t moving as it should. She remembered him taking the watch from his pocket and gently pressing it into her hand, a soft smile playing on his lips.

“For when you need me,” he had said, his fingers lingering on the edges of the metal. She could still feel the warmth of his touch, as if it was somehow engraved into the very metal of the watch. And inside, she had placed the picture—one of them, laughing together, carefree. It was the only thing that had helped steady her as the days felt longer, the hours slipping away, the minutes fading before they could be captured.

She opened the watch now, the familiar click of the hinge echoing in the quiet room. The picture was still there—faded around the edges, but still vibrant enough to hold the memory of them. Of him. His face, his smile, a snapshot of a time before everything fell apart.

But now, staring at the picture, her heart clenched with an emptiness that swallowed her whole. She had to believe—she had to hold on to that smile, that moment. The watch, like the pendant, was a promise. 

But what good was the promise if he was lost to her?

Back in Hydra’s cold grip, Bucky gasped for air as the shock of the latest experiment sent jolts of agony through his body. His mind flashed again to [Y/N].

She would never leave me, he thought, though his mind was clouded with the fog of his conditioning. The memories were beginning to blur, and her face starting to dissolve into the darkness. She promised she would wait. The words were like a faint whisper in the wind, just out of reach, slipping through his fingers every time he tried to hold on to them.

Bucky’s mind reeled with conflicting thoughts—his identity slipping further from him, the Winter Soldier’s programming slowly taking over, and [Y/N]’s face, her voice, her love.

Suddenly, another flash of memory. He saw her again, standing in front of him, asking him to promise that he’d come back safe. She had been so sure. But what if she was wrong? What if he didn’t make it back? What if the man she had loved—James—was already gone?

He clenched his fists, the cold shackles biting into his wrists, the pain reminding him of his humanity, of the promises made. He remembered her, his [Y/N], even as the Hydra agents moved to reset him, to erase his mind and reshape him into their weapon.

[Y/N]. Her name echoed again, louder this time, breaking through the fog. He fought to hold onto it, to hold onto who he was. James.

Back at the diner, [Y/N] sat at the counter, staring at the empty seat where Bucky would always sit when he came in. It felt like a lifetime ago that she had served him coffee, teasing him about his military days, watching him smile with that lopsided grin. That grin was now just a memory.

Please come back.

Her hands trembled around the coffee mug, and she let the tears fall freely. The world around her was moving on, but for her, it felt like time had stopped. There was no future without him.

And as the wind howled outside, the rain began to fall—a torrential downpour, washing away all the remnants of the past.

In the distance, somewhere far away, Bucky felt the echoes of her pain. Though he couldn’t see it, couldn’t feel it, he knew, deep down, that he wasn’t just fighting for his life. He was fighting for her.

The cold wind bit at the skin of everyone waiting on the docks. Years had passed, and Peggy now stood beside [Y/N] her hand tight around her friend’s, though it wasn’t the only thing causing tension between them. She had arrived earlier than the troops, due to her being part of a special force. Both women had been anxiously scanning the ship’s disembarking soldiers, the long wait growing unbearable with each passing moment.

But something else gnawed at the edges of [Y/N]’s mind—a deep, unsettling feeling she couldn’t quite place. She turned her head from side to side, trying to ignore the tightness in her chest as the men in uniform marched off the ship in perfect formation. Where was he? Where was James?

Then, she saw Peggy’s face light up. Her breath hitched as Peggy pulled away and rushed forward. The look of relief on Peggy’s face was unmistakable, and she flung herself into Steve’s arms without hesitation, his head immediately burying itself in the crook of her neck. The sight almost brought a smile to [Y/N]’s lips, but the heavy feeling in her chest only deepened as her gaze continued to sweep the crowd for the familiar face she desperately needed to see.

Where was Bucky?

Steve and Peggy murmured to each other, their heads bent close, and something in their words caught [Y/N]’s attention. She watched as they exchanged quiet, anxious words, their expressions growing darker. Something was wrong. The hair on the back of her neck stood up. She needed to know.

In a panic, she asked, “Where is Bucky?” Her voice, usually steady, cracked slightly, betraying the fear she was trying to keep hidden.

As Steve looked at [Y/N], his face pale with grief and guilt, he felt the weight of the truth crush him. His words had already broken the fragile silence between them, but it was the look on [Y/N]’s face that truly shattered him. He could see the heartache in her eyes, the shock, the disbelief. It was too much to bear.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Peggy. Her eyes were wide, her lips parted as she watched him, frozen for a moment in the same agony that had overtaken him. Then, as if something snapped within her, she rushed toward him.

Without a word, she threw her arms around Steve, her body shaking with unspoken sorrow. He could feel her warmth, her heartbeat against his chest. And in that moment, for the first time in a long while, Steve allowed himself to lean into her, to let his guard fall. He buried his face into her shoulder, his grip tightening around her, finding solace in the steady presence she offered.

For Peggy, holding Steve was an unspoken promise. She wasn’t going to let him fall, not when he needed her most. She’d seen him broken before, but this felt different—this loss, this weight. She didn’t need to say anything; the comfort she offered was enough.

Meanwhile, [Y/N] stood at a distance, her heart torn between the two of them, but unable to reach out. She watched Steve, his broad shoulders trembling under the weight of the world, held by Peggy. The sight only deepened her sense of loss, the overwhelming grief that gripped her chest.

Is it true?

Bucky’s mind was clouded with the echoes of pain. He couldn’t tell if he was awake or lost in some fragmented dream. The cold, sterile environment pressed against him—metal and darkness, a constant reminder of Hydra’s grasp. But there was something else, a flicker of warmth, of light, cutting through the haze. Y/N’s face.

Stay strong, Bucky.

But who is Bucky? And where did this melodious voice come from?

Her words looped in his mind like a lifeline. He squeezed his eyes shut, his pulse racing. He had to hold on—had to stay strong for her. But each time he tried to push the darkness away, the cold metal surrounding him tightened, and his memories began to slip away.

[Y/N]’s hands trembled, her mind racing. She was still caught in Steve’s words. What did he mean, ‘there’s something you need to know’? It was like the ground beneath her was crumbling, piece by piece. She could feel her chest tighten, each heartbeat like a reminder of the growing emptiness in her life.

Bucky—please be okay. Please come back.

Her thoughts drifted to the last time she’d seen him—his voice, so steady, so certain. I’ll be back. She could almost hear him say it now, his voice ringing through the storm of fear that had settled in her heart. She needed to believe him. She had to.

Bucky’s eyes fluttered open in the dark. The sound of [Y/N]’s name echoed in his mind. He gasped for air, as though he had been holding his breath for an eternity. James. It was like an anchor, pulling him from the fog. His name, his real name was the one that had been buried under layers of false identities and pain.

But the connection was fleeting—slipping through his fingers as quickly as it had appeared.

I’m waiting for you, James.

Her voice, so soft, so clear. He could almost feel her there with him, her hand in his, warm and steady. But just as quickly, it was gone. His mind buzzed with Hydra’s commands, the sharp sting of pain drawing him back to the reality of his imprisonment.

[Y/N]’s breath caught as Steve’s voice broke the silence again. “Bucky’s… he’s gone, [Y/N]. He fell.”

The words seemed to sink into her, their weight heavy and suffocating. Her chest felt hollow, and yet, in that hollow space, there was a sharp, biting pain, one that made her feel like she was losing herself. She had already known, hadn’t she? In the deepest part of her, she had feared this—hoped it wasn’t true, but feared it all the same.

She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think.

Please don’t let this be real.

Bucky’s heart skipped a beat as the memories of [Y/N] flooded his mind again, even though he was barely conscious. Her voice, her name, was all he could hold onto now. Even in this place—this cold, broken place—she was his tether to something real. He had to hold on.

[Y/N]… I’ll be back.

The thought came like a whisper, like a memory of something he might have said once. But the words were fading, slipping from his grasp, just as she had.

[Y/N] stood motionless, her eyes wide, as the weight of Steve’s words crashed down on her. She had been holding on for so long, hoping for the impossible. She wanted to scream, to deny it, to tell Steve that he was wrong, that Bucky wasn’t gone. But the look in Steve’s eyes—the sorrow, the loss—told her the truth before the words ever reached her ears.

Her heart shattered, and for a moment, the world around her felt like it was falling apart.

As Steve leaned on Peggy for support, she caught the look in [Y/N]’s eyes—a look of pure devastation. Her breath hitched, her chest rising and falling with shallow gasps. Peggy felt her heartache as she watched the young woman struggling to hold herself together, her hands trembling at her sides.

Without thinking, Peggy turned toward her. She placed a steady hand on her shoulder, offering her a soft but firm touch that spoke volumes. “[Y/N],” she said, her voice low and steady, “you don’t have to do this alone.”

She looked up, her eyes red-rimmed, her face pale with shock. Her lips parted, but no words came. The anguish was too deep to express. At that moment, everything felt lost—the world had gone dark, and the weight of Bucky’s absence seemed unbearable.

Peggy didn’t wait for a response. She simply pulled her into her arms, guiding her close. [Y/N] collapsed against her, her body trembling as the tears she had been holding back finally spilled over. Peggy’s arms wrapped around her, holding her tightly as she let the younger woman cry. It wasn’t much, but it was all she could offer—her presence, her strength.

“I’m here,” Peggy murmured, her voice quiet but filled with sincerity. “We’re all here for you, [Y/N].”

The young woman nodded into her shoulder, her chest heaving as sobs wracked her body. In that moment, she felt the weight of everything—the loss of Bucky, the uncertainty of the future, the fear of being left behind—but Peggy’s steady presence grounded her, reminding her that she wasn’t alone.

She wasn’t, but she still felt the harsh and cold breeze of loneliness passing through her.

Bucky’s body trembled against the cold metal of his cell, his mind drifting back to the warmth of [Y/N]’s embrace, the feel of her hands in his hair as they stood together in the quiet of their shared moments. He could feel her again, even now, her name a faint echo in his consciousness. But the darkness was closing in, the memories slipping faster.

She was waiting for him. But would he be able to return to her?

ending notes : i told you not to get too comfortable.. sweet, sweet roller coaster of emotions.

Want to read more of my works? Check out my masterlist !

dividers ©️ @chachachannah + @cyberbeat + @vesearartistry .

angelremnants ©️ 2024. All rights reserved. Do not repost, reproduce, or distribute without explicit permission.

PART ONE. l PREVIOUS PART. l NEXT PART.

[xvivinx]

Not when she owes me a dance...

[ethvn-torchio]

i remember that dreamlike candlelight like a dream that you can't quite place

steggy secret santa gift for @userghouls <3 so so sorry for the belated gift.

[nifolution]

Letters 6

Warnings: Heartbreak, Angst, Manipulation, lies, threats, arguments, mention of pregnancy/getting pregnant, allusion of smut

A/N: This is a revised copy of my oc fic. It is still written in 3rd person. Steve was rescued from the Valkyrie crash. He became a world hero and came back home with Peggy to start his life. No stealing, no reposts, no translations, no feeding to AIs. Comments, reblogs and likes are always welcome and appreciated. Reminder that chapter 5 & 6 have been reconfigured.

Chapter 5  Series Masterlist     Main Masterlist

Chapter 6

Peggy was not a simpleminded woman, she saw Steve sneak out in the dead of night. Phoning an associate, twelve hours later she got the answer to her husband’s whereabouts. The bastard had been playing house with his old flame. He left her bed to warm someone else’s, and according to the information in front of her, it had been going on for some time now.

She would not stand for this embarrassment, Steve needed to remember his place. He was no longer the pitiful thing he was before the serum. So sickly that if he were a pet, they would have drowned him. Captain America was the embodiment of perfection, and belonged to her. Clearly his mind had forgotten that and slipped into bad habits. She would put an end to it.

After verifying Steve’s location well outside the vicinity, Peggy arrived at his paramour’s residence. She refused to be made a fool of by some low class floozy. After successfully charming the landlord, she made her way up to her destination. Three knocks and she came face to face with the woman occupying her husband’s time.

Y/N didn’t know what she expected when she answered the door, but it wasn’t Mrs. Captain America. Nothing good could come out of Steve’s wife at her apartment. “Can I help you?” She ignored the dread that prickled up her spine.

“I see by the look on your face, that you know who I am.” Peggy smiled when the other woman nodded. “I would like to have a chat, woman to woman.”

She noticed how Peggy looked at her as if she was something she stepped in. Y/N’s anger simmered below the surface, she’d seize this opportunity to confront her uninvited guest. This spiteful, entitled, British lunatic doesn’t get to screw with her life and not expect her to fight back. “Please come in.”

Peggy sat down at the small table and asked for a cup of tea. While the other woman obliged, she looked around the tiny home with distaste, humming to herself, “Not very cohesive is it.”

Y/N returned to the table carrying the requested beverage, mentally preparing herself to have it out with this woman. As she set the tea tray down, her blood froze. Peggy was right where she left her, poised and proper, not a hair out of place, like she jumped out of a magazine… if not for the pistol casually sitting on the table.

The corner of Peggy’s mouth turned up at the clear fright in the other woman's eyes over the small firearm. “Milk and two sugars, please.”

Y/N surprised herself when her voice didn’t shake, “I do not have any milk.”

Her red lips pursed, “I suppose this will have to do then.” Peggy flashed a fake smile, taking her cup and placing it in front of her. She had no intention of imbibing whichever subpar tea was being served. “I’ll get straight to the point. I’m here to discuss my husband spending so much time with you, instead of where he belongs.”

Y/N couldn’t take her eyes off the weapon, sure she was about to breathe her last. “Steve has been a good friend to me. He’s been trying to help me out.”

“I’m sure he has. However, I must insist that whatever fun you two have been having come to an end. He should be at home with me, we are having a baby after all.” Peggy sighed, a dreamy look on her face as she held her flat stomach.

Her demeanor changes once again, looking Y/N up and down with contempt, “I admit, I've been working a bit much as of late, yet I do not see the appeal. You must be very easy for him to have turned to you.” She smoothed down an nonexistent wrinkle in her skirt, then turned her dark gaze back to the other woman. “He is mine. He will never be yours. I'm all he needs. I am his love, his best friend, his home, his safety, his WIFE. You are just a hole he uses to pass the time.”

Shocked by the language and accusation, Y/N stuttered, “No we ha- haven't. I w-wouldn’t…”

Peggy held up her hand, “I do not wish to hear your excuses. Imagine if a reporter caught wind of your inappropriate relationship. His reputation would be tarnished, and you, dearie, would be ruined… You will stop seeing my husband immediately lest the consequences be swift and severe.” She placed her perfectly polished fingers on the gun, angling it toward Y/N. “Do we have an understanding?”

Y/N could only nod, terrified of the unspoken threat. She’d die, and be forever shamed as Captain America’s mistress. As the woman that came between America's perfect couple. The homewrecker, the whore. If she managed to survive, she’d lose her job and her home. Her family would disown her. She’d have nothing after such a scandal. Living on the street or dead in a box.

“Marvelous.” Peggy stood, placing the pistol back in her purse. “Oh, and I wouldn't mention a word of this friendly conversation to Steve. Stress isn't good for the baby.” She took one last look at Y/N, shaking her head. “You really are a weak thing. I do not see the appeal at all.” She closed the apartment door behind her and waited. Smiling at the sound of Y/N sobbing, she left, satisfied her first objective was completed.

---------------

Humming to herself, Peggy slipped into her best lingerie and matching robe. Admiring her image in the mirror as she let her hair down and applied her favorite shade of red lipstick that she knew drove her husband wild. The perfect trap.

Like all men, she knew Steve would step out of line from time to time. It was their nature. Men needed constant guidance. Could not be relied on to make correct decisions on their own. It made it all the more important to put Steve back in his place. He had been more resistant than expected. She needed to use her ace in the hole; allowing Steve to impregnate her.

It would not derail her career. She dared them to try to push her out of her position. Peggy knew she could do both successfully. A few months of desk work through the pregnancy, then hire a nanny and everything would work itself out. What was important was getting her husband on board with her agency and remaking the world in the name of the greater good. He would learn to see things her way. A child would ensure his cooperation. Hearing Steve’s car pull up, Peggy poured two glasses of champagne and waited.

Steve walked into his house, head hung low. Far too much on his mind. It had been two days since he last spoke with Y/N. Her request for space was killing him. He left her apartment on friendly terms, but it still felt like he was losing her. He couldn't go through that again. Steve wanted to respect her boundaries, but he missed her too much. That hollow spot inside him ached, the one created when he thought she left him for another man. He needed her. It all felt wrong. This didn't feel like coming home. It felt like hiding.

"Welcome home, Captain."

He looked up to a sight that would have once felt like it jumped out of his fantasies. Peggy in a robe that covered very little. Her come hither eyes trained on him as each slow and sensual step brought her closer. He couldn’t help but stare, accepting the glass she handed him without question.

Peggy wrapped her arms around his neck, careful not to spill her drink. She gazed into his eyes, smiling seductively as she spoke, “I’ve missed you terribly.” The words were innocent, but the tone sounded like 'take me now.' Leaning in, Peggy placed a teasing kiss on her husband's lips. A taste of what was to come.

Steve was momentarily stunned. "I um…I- I need to tell you something." He gently removed her arms, escorting her to the couch to sit beside him. There were many things he wanted to say to her, but was finding it difficult to start. So he picked the first topic that came to mind. Told her how he wanted to retire, put down the shield. Captain America was done.

She chuckled with feigned amusement, "You are being ridiculous. You're nothing if you're not Captain America... These last weeks have made you cranky and irrational, my poor dear. Let me make it better." Slowly opening her robe to expose what was underneath, she watched his eyes slightly dilate. "I was wrong, Steve. I want to have a baby now. I love you and I know you love me. Waiting seems silly. Can you picture it, a little boy playing ball in the yard, a little girl with her dollies. Our perfect family. Do you see it, darling?"

His breath caught when Peggy pushed herself against him, bosoms barely contained by thin lace. The smell of her perfume and her soft skin hypnotizing. Her hands cupped his face, pulling him into an unwanted kiss. He pulled away, “I'm not in the mood, Peg.”

“I’ll make you feel so good,” Peggy began kissing up the side of Steve’s neck while her left hand rubbed him through his pants, “you’ll forget all your troubles.” Her breath tickled his ear as she whispered, “I'll even use my mouth like on our honeymoon.” Resting her head on his chest, Peggy grasped his manhood through the fabric smiling as he began to swell. “I know we’ve hit a little snag in our marriage, but that happens to every couple. Come on, Captain, your wife needs you.”

Swallowing hard, Steve stopped Peggy by holding her hand in his. He had to live with his choices. That was his ring on her finger. Did he still love Peggy? He wasn’t sure. Thinking too hard about it made his stomach churn. She was still his wife, but he could never trust her again. Everything out of her mouth seemed to be a lie. She tricked him, pursued him, used him. However, he basked in the attention, reciprocated her advances and forced himself to forget Y/N. Maybe he deserved this, a life under Peggy's thumb. He had to make this work.

Peggy used their entwined hands to pull her husband to their bedroom. She knew he couldn't resist her. He would always be a puppet and she knew just how to pull his strings.

---------------

Steve sat in his high back chair, sipping his drink, trying to quiet the voices in his head. The pleasure Peggy provided fixed nothing. In fact he felt worse. A touch once longed for, now made his skin crawl. This is not what he wanted. The love he once held for Peggy was gone, forever tainted by her actions, but he was stuck. So even though he couldn't get drunk, he let the burn of the alcohol distract him. Lamenting that no matter how much he consumed, he would never be granted numbness from these feelings. His Ma would be ashamed.

Downing the last of his glass, he poured himself another. Wishing his best friend was still around for him to confide in. Steve laughed, knowing Bucky would swipe the whiskey from his hand, tell him to stop being a punk and do something, then finish the drink himself. Maybe give him a swift kick in the ass to get him moving faster. And he’d be right. Steve couldn't undo the past, but he could change things starting now.

In the bedroom sat Peggy, scowling. “How dare he?” she muttered, crossing her arms over her chest, positively fuming. She degraded herself playing the whore for him and he couldn't finish. His mind clearly elsewhere.

She didn’t like this at all, she was losing control over him. Peggy had enough of the back and forth, he needed to move out of New York with her and join SHIELD, end of story. If that homewrecking hussy interfered she would squash her like the measly insect she was. Her husband would be none the wiser, accidents could be arranged. They had no idea what she was capable of.

Steve flew into the bedroom with his overnight bag in hand. Paying no mind to the woman on the bed, he began stuffing clothing and personal items into it. He had to leave and didn't want Peggy clouding his judgment. She put enough ideas in his head as it was. He wasn't going to let her control him anymore.

Peggy pushed up her breasts, prepared to continue. “Come back to bed, love.” It sounded more like a demand than a request. “We must try again. Proper insemination is required for procreation.”

Releasing an exasperated sigh, Steve turned to his preening wife. He saw her now, could peer through her illusion to the darkness and rot within. Disgusted with himself, he never wanted to touch her again. “I need to go.”

She responded with a sardonic laugh. Here she was giving him everything he wanted and that insolent man had the nerve to deny her. “I’m sorry, no. You are not going anywhere. I forbid it.”

Defying her orders, Steve walked out of their room and into the bathroom. Peggy followed at his heels. She was determined, he'd give her that. Determined and heartless. He continued to ignore her.

“You will do as I say!” Losing all composure, she shoved him with all her might, but to no avail. He continued putting items into his bag. She pushed hard at his cheek to force him to face her. “I am Captain America's wife. What good are you to me without the moniker? Without that you are worthless.” Each word punctuated by her finger stabbing into his chest.

“I have NEVER been worthless.” Finished, Steve closed the bag and headed to the front door.

Peggy ran after him. “Where do you think you are going, you ungrateful bastard!? To that waitress’ home? Your lover that cowers at the sight of a tiny firearm.”

That got a reaction. He froze in his tracks. Lifting her chin, her lips twisted into a sinister smirk, “Didn’t think I knew? You were not exactly discreet.”

Steve should have known she was still spying on him. Another one of her lies. Through clenched teeth he growled, "What did you do?”

“Only what I had to.” Peggy half shrugged, “No harm has come to her.” The silent ‘yet’ hung in the air. She attempted to take the bag out of his hand, but his grip only tightened.

She looked up at him through her lashes. “Steve, my sweet husband, we have a beautiful life together, don't spoil it. Don't disrespect everything we've built together. We were made for each other. We can get past this little hiccup.”

Placing a tentative hand on his arm, Peggy spoke with a soft voice, “I can understand your confusion, darling, and I forgive you. You run into an ex-lover and old feelings resurface, but that is all they are. Old. Dead. Feelings. Only memories. You would do well to pay them no mind.”

“We are only apart because of you.”

Peggy rubbed her brow, “Always so melodramatic. You are apart because you’re not a match. WE ARE. I believed you were bright enough to figure that out. That's why you married me. We're perfect together… Remember our vows, Steve. Remember your duties to me and your country. You were made for big things. Much too great for some lowly waitress with dirt under her fingernails. She could never run in our social circles…”

Steve interrupted, taking a step back, “Your circles, your friends.” 

Stomping her foot, she screamed, “I won't be a party to your childish fantasies... You need to calm down and forget this squabble. Bury the past and appreciate what we have now.” Peggy held out her hand for him to take, “Come back to bed.”

He stared at the appendage as if it was a snake waiting to strike. 

“I will not tolerate this behavior any longer. I allowed it before, knowing you needed to let off steam, but no longer. This ends now. Know your place.”

“I do.” Steve walked out the front door, and out of her life for good.

Chapter 7 (coming soon)

[velvet4510]

[swan-of-sunrise]

Turning Point (Tales From The SSR)

Summary: An influenza outbreak incapacitates the 107th Tactical Team while out in the field and as they work to nurse (Y/N) back to health, Steve and Peggy finally have a moment alone.

Pairing: Steve Rogers X Peggy Carter, Steve Rogers X Reader (Platonic), Bucky Barnes X Reader (Slight)

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings/Disclaimers: None

A/N: Hi guys! This one-shot was originally gonna be about something else entirely, but it sort of evolved into this and I went along with it lol thank you for reading, I hope you all enjoy!

Turning Point March 1944 The Forests of Mount Oeta, Axis-Occupied Greece (Previous One-Shot)

Three months after their official formation, the 107th Tactical Team found themselves camping out in the dense forests of Mount Oeta as they traveled through Greece to destroy the second of five Hydra bases scattered throughout Europe. The intelligence they’d received from the SOE and several Greek Resistance groups pointed to the Hydra facility – a weapons manufacturing plant similar to the Austrian factory in Kreischberg that many of their team had recently been held in as POW’s – being located near the village of Gorgopotamos. They’d been ordered to stand by for further approval from their commanding officers at the Strategic Scientific Reserve and not long after setting up camp in a frosty clearing, nearly every member of their team came down with influenza.

Falsworth, Dugan and Morita were the first of them to fall ill, quickly followed by Dernier, Jones and Peggy; Bucky seemed to luck out, only suffering very mild symptoms that cleared up after twenty-four hours and thanks to the super-soldier serum flowing through Steve’s veins, he was spared from catching the infection. (Y/N), being the only other person who hadn’t succumbed to the illness, helped Steve and Bucky care for the others and slowly nursed all six of their comrades back to health. However, it was then that the codebreaker herself finally came down sick and unfortunately, her symptoms were the worst by far; as the hours turned into a day and a day turned into two, she showed little to no sign of improvement and an unspoken fear of losing their beloved codebreaker slowly filled them all one by one. And since he was the leader of their tactical team and responsible for every single member he’d personally recruited, Steve was wracked with a heavy guilt that only continued to grow the sicker (Y/N) became.

“Cap? You with me, Cap?”

Steve tore his gaze away from the makeshift medical tent they’d erected at the start of their camp’s epidemic and looked over at Morita, who was sitting cross-legged on his standard-issue sleeping bag and attempting to tune their scuffed Stark Industries radio. “Sorry, Morita. What was it?”

“I was just askin’ you if you think we should use the radio transceiver to call for help.” He patted the portable SCR-300 unit as his chapped lips pursed in worry. “I know that Stark said it’s only got enough juice for one long-distance transmission, but (Y/L/N)’s not gettin’ any better and-”

“That transceiver’s our only way of receiving the order from headquarters to move in and we can’t afford to jeopardize this mission by using up its one and only transmission,” Steve replied, hating the tactical words he found himself uttering despite the indisputable truth they held. “I wish we could, but we have our orders.”

A disappointed but understanding look crossed Morita’s face, and he gave Steve a short nod before returning his attention to the radio resting on his lap. Steve’s jaw tightened in an effort to remain composed as he detected the faint sounds of the codebreaker vomiting into a bucket and as he paced around the wide clearing, he took a moment to survey their camp and its morose occupants; their days-long trek through the mountains of Greece meant that they’d all been cut off from any news of their friends and family back home, and (Y/N)’s poor health had only lowered their already dwindling morale. Falsworth and Dernier – both distracted by worry for their families’ safety back home in a post-Operation Steinbock England and Nazi-Occupied France – were heading off to their sentry duties while Dugan and Jones – who were on-edge since they’d caught wind of the successful sinking of the USS Grayback by Japanese aircraft off the coast of Okinawa, yet another American ship sunk since the start of the war – were coming back from their patrol. Morita, unable to contact his mother and grandparents imprisoned in a Japanese internment camp back home in the States, was preoccupying himself with tuning their battered radio so that they could catch up to date with any news from the front. Some leader I am, Steve scoffed at himself and kicked at a fallen pinecone as he paced, if I can’t lead them like this then how am I gonna keep them safe out there on the battlefield?

Hearing Dugan and Jones’ heavy footsteps approaching, Steve wiped the apprehensive look off his face and replaced it with a more stoic stare as he turned to face both men. “How’s (Y/L/N) doin’?” The tense silence of the camp was punctuated by the sounds of dry heaving emanating from the medical tent, causing all three men to wince in sympathy. “Poor kid. I really don’t know how we’re gonna get her back on her feet, seeing as we all used up the last of the medicine.”

“That gal’s a fighter, Dum Dum; you hear how she cussed out Monty when he tried takin’ her temperature this morning?” A smirk tugged at the corner of Jones’ lips as he shook his head and slung his rifle’s strap over his shoulder. “I think I’d rather try snatching a hungry bobcat’s dinner away than mess around with a sick Agent (Y/L/N).”

Before either of them could reply, the flap covering the entrance of the medical tent was thrown open and a worried-looking Bucky emerged with a bucket in his arms, making a bee-line towards the trio of men the moment he spotted them. “All right, the good news is that I think we’re close to breaking her fever and lowering her body temperature.”

While both Dugan and Jones breathed a sigh of relief, the expression on his best friend’s face made Steve frown and brusquely ask, “And the bad news?”

“She’s severely dehydrated and the lack of food’s startin’ to get to her; things are gonna go south real quick if we don’t get some food and water into her soon.” Bucky unceremoniously thrust the full bucket he’d been holding into Dugan’s arms, ignoring the older man’s cry of protest and Jones’ snickers. “Get this cleaned out and when you’re done, have Morita give you a hand with the laundry and be sure to start with (Y/N)’s clothes first. I’m gonna take a look at our K-rations and see if I can’t whip up somethin’ that’ll be easy on her stomach.”

When both Dugan and Jones looked over at Steve for his authorization, he gave them an approving nod and watched them both hurry away to carry out their orders. “What can I do, Buck?”

“Go and help Carter cool her down; I’ve got her placing wet cloths onto her wrists, ankles and forehead, the same as what your Ma and I did when you caught scarlet fever back in ’31, and see if you can’t get her to drink a little water while you’re at it.” Despite his visible concern for their codebreaker’s deteriorating health, a ghost of his trademark grin flashed across his face. “All I got for my efforts were some pretty un-ladylike threats about where she’d shove the water canteen I offered her, so maybe you’ll have some better luck.”

Steve, knowing full well that his best friend was harboring a small crush on the team’s quick-witted codebreaker but wanting to keep his secret, simply nodded and patted Bucky’s shoulder as he strode past him; when he reached the flap of the medical tent, he politely cleared his throat and waited for Peggy’s welcome before entering. (Y/N) was lying on the cot, dressed in a sweat-soaked white shirt and khaki trousers with wet cloths strategically placed along her overheated body, and Peggy was seated next to her with a troubled look on her face as she gently dabbed a damp rag along her best friend’s face. Judging by the pallor of her skin, the dark circles under her fluttering eyes and the erratic heartbeat that only a super-soldier could hear, it was easy for Steve to see why Peggy and Bucky were so worried for her.

“Oh no, not you too,” (Y/N) croaked out when she finally noticed Steve’s presence, weakly smiling as he took a seat on the other side of her cot. “I already told Peg and Bucky that I’m as fit as a fiddle.”

“And I already told you that you’re as stubborn as a mule.” Peggy’s words were playful, but the brief look she gave Steve conveyed the anxiety she was fighting to mask for the codebreaker’s benefit. “Perhaps Captain Rogers can convince you that your only job right now is to rest, not to waste energy arguing with me or threatening Sergeant Barnes with bodily harm.”

The codebreaker let out a frustrated groan. “But there’s still codes-”

“And you’ll be able to decode ‘em when you get better,” Steve interjected, his tone gentle but resolute. “You spent days nursing the rest of the team back to health, so now it’s your turn to let us take care of you.” He poured some canteen water into a tin cup and held it out for her to take. “So, could you do me a favor and do as Peggy says?”

After a long moment, (Y/N)’s jaw unclenched and she managed to muster up a faint chuckle before taking the cup from him. “I always said that ‘do as Peggy says’ should be the SSR’s official slogan…” She forced down the water and while Steve took the empty cup away, she gave Peggy a small apologetic smile. “I’m sorry that I’m being a pain in the ass, Peg. It’s just that I…I’m not used to being fussed over. I can’t…help but feel like a burden…”

The codebreaker’s eyelids drooped and her labored breathing subtly evened out as she lost consciousness, but her heartbreaking words hung heavy in the dead-silent medical tent. Although they’d only known one another for two months, Steve was well-aware of (Y/N)’s turbulent relationship with her family and the hardships she’d faced throughout her childhood; it saddened him to know that such a kind and compassionate woman was deprived of the sort of loving home that he and Bucky were lucky to have grown up in, and it made it all the more unfair that she was suffering after tirelessly caring for her teammates in their time of need.

A quiet sniffle caused Steve to look up from (Y/N)’s clammy face, and he felt a pang in his chest when he caught sight of Peggy wiping a tear off her cheek; when the agent’s reddened eyes met his, she gave him a saddened smile and quietly spoke. “From the moment we first met, (Y/N)’s been like a sister to me and since my brother Michael’s death, I can’t…I’d rather not imagine living in a world without her.”

Steve returned her smile with one of his own before reaching over the cot and tentatively resting his hand atop hers. “(Y/N)’s a fighter, Peggy. She’s gonna pull through this, and it’ll be because she’s got all of us here to help her out.” Peggy’s expression softened and Steve felt his face warm when she set the damp rag down and gave his hand a grateful squeeze. In an instant, it dawned on him that they hadn’t been alone with one another since their disastrous confrontation back at the SSR’s headquarters after his and Private Lorraine’s kiss; he awkwardly cleared his throat and slipped his hand out from under Peggy’s, picking up the rag and dabbing it into the bowl of water perched on a nearby crate as he attempted to keep his emotions in check. “I’m, um…I guess I’m not really used to being on this side of an illness,” He remarked, wringing the rag out and carefully placing it across (Y/N)’s heated forehead. “It’s a strange perspective, being the caregiver instead of the patient; I’m usually the one lying in bed with a hundred and two degree fever.”

“Doctor Erskine mentioned that your medical history was rather extensive…” Peggy stood and leaned over to adjust the codebreaker’s makeshift pillow, and her sympathetic eyes met his when he moved to help her. “I can’t begin to imagine how challenging your life was before Project Rebirth.”

Returning to his seat, Steve removed the cloth encircling (Y/N)’s wrist and wetted it with fresh water, his gaze fixed onto his task as the memories of his childhood in Brooklyn and the hazy memories of each of his life-threatening illnesses invaded his mind. “My ma – she was a nurse, you see – she always told me that God blessed her with a baby he knew she’d have no trouble raising on her own. He sure as hell didn’t hold back his punches, either; before high school, I was diagnosed with asthma, scoliosis, arrhythmia, high blood pressure, astigmatism, pernicious anemia, stomach ulcers, sinusitis, fallen arches, and I had a couple of bouts of colds, rheumatic fever and scarlet fever. But none of that ever stopped her…” His eyes stung with the urge to cry but he forced himself to remain composed as he continued. “She told me that nothing in heaven or hell could stop her from taking care of me.”

“Your mother sounds like a strong-willed woman. Is she…?” Sensing her hesitancy, Steve shook his head and out of the corner of his eye, he saw her purse her lips and fiddle with the end of her braided hair before continuing. “She'd be very proud of the man you’ve become.”

He swallowed the lump in his throat and chuckled to disguise the unexpected emotion the agent’s thoughtful words brought on. “I’m still just that skinny kid from Brooklyn, now just with a serum that gives you muscles and an iron-clad immune system.”

“You’re more than the serum.” Peggy’s gentle and affirming tone caused Steve to look up and meet her sparkling brown eyes. “The serum would be nothing without the good, kind-hearted man it empowers,” She reached across the cot to rest her hand atop his, causing Steve’s heart to race and a blush to color his cheeks. “You’re my hero, Steve.”

There was a sudden and palpable shift in the air as Steve studied the agent’s eyes and took in her words. Although he’d undergone an incredible physical transformation that saw him go from sickly to the epitome of strength, the way Peggy looked at him never changed; it was clear as day that she meant exactly what she’d said – after all, Peggy Carter was hardly one for mincing words and had no issue speaking her mind in any given situation – and that realization only made Steve’s admiration and unspoken attraction to her grow. With a soft smile, Steve twisted his hand around to intertwine their fingers and shyly replied, “You’re my hero, too.”

Peggy’s smile grew but before either of them could say or do anything further, Bucky and Dugan burst into the medical tent; they both quickly withdrew their hands from one another before either man took note of their intimate moment, and Steve hastily averted his gaze from the equally-flustered agent seated across from him. “How’s the patient doing?” Bucky asked, oblivious to the conversation he’d walked in on as he set a bowl of broth down onto the nearest crate and moved to replace the cloth on (Y/N)’s forehead with the back of his hand; after a moment, the look of concern written across his face softened and he breathed out a relieved sigh. “Her fever finally broke; she should be okay after we get her to eat and drink a little.”

“Oh, thank heavens,” Peggy beamed and a reassured Dugan ruffled her hair before ducking out of the medical tent to inform their teammates of the good news. “Ste-Captain Rogers was able to convince her to drink a little water after you left.”

“And Peg-Agent Carter managed to cool her down with the wet cloths,” Steve added, awkwardly clearing his throat when his best friend glanced over his shoulder and arched a curious brow at him. “So, um, you made soup?”

Bucky chuckled. “Well, my ma sure as hell wouldn’t call it that, but a bouillon cube mixed into boiling water’ll just have to do.” With the gentleness of a well-seasoned caregiver, he nudged (Y/N)’s shoulder and smiled when her eyes finally fluttered open. “Hey there, doll. I know you’re tired, but I’ve got some food here for you; it ain’t easy makin’ these K-rations taste edible, but I worked a little magic just for you.”

Groaning, (Y/N) allowed Bucky to help her sit up and Steve, not wanting to be in their way, stood and gave Peggy a small smile as he made his way to the tent’s flap. “I, um…I should go and check in with the others. Would you tell (Y/N) that I hope she feels better soon and that she’s to continue following your orders until she does?”

“Of course. And Steve?” He turned around in time to catch the tender look etched across Peggy’s beautiful features, illuminated by a smile that caused his stomach to lurch in a not-so-unpleasant way. “Thank you, for opening up to me.”

Steve nodded once and returned her smile with one of his own. “And thank you, Peg.”

Arching a quizzical brow, the agent quietly asked, “What for?”

“For listening.”

And as Steve turned and walked out of the medical tent, all he could think of was the way Peggy had looked at him and how happy he was that they’d seemingly moved on from their turbulent encounter back at headquarters. When the war’s over, I’m gonna buy (Y/N) (Y/L/N) every single Andrews Sisters record and box of herbal teabags I can get my hands on, Steve silently vowed as his smile grew into a full-blown grin.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Thank you all so much for reading and commenting! I’ve created a Spotify playlist inspired by this series, and I’ll be updating it every time I upload a new one-shot. Enjoy!

Spotify Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0iKzLZlEK1rTaSIiW5zRlk?si=97af3c9ce3ff4b65

“Tales From The SSR” Masterlist

“Specs and the Flyboy” Masterlist

Tagging: @nnon-it-up​ @fluffymadamina​ @remmyswritings​ @ourstarsailor @coffeeandcrimeshows​ @darkusangelus​ @josis-teacup​ @marvel-jackt-loki-buck​ @yeetyeetchickenmeat​ @sameoldbaby​ @theserenityspace​ @seeing-but-not-observing​ @supervoldejaygent​ @momc95​ @brooke0297​ @kinda-c0nfused​ @outoftheregular​ @mads-weasley​ @mostclevermiss​ @crowleysqueenofhell​ @groovy-lady​ @xxruinaxxmcu​​  

[sparkliingdust]

My submission for Steggy Week 2023 (Day 2 - WIPs & updates)

The Scars That Remain Summary: Even though the serum protected Steve through several world wars, and Peggy is resolved to maintaining a stiff upper lip, some scars can start to heal with time and each other. RATING: R (mature – for slow build / sexual content, angst, comfort). Potential trigger warnings dealing with topics of harm/scars from graphic violence. NOTE: The visibility of Steve’s scars are not brand new as if they were made yesterday. They have faded because of the serum, but I guess I always wondered what Steve’s scars would be like after the Winter Soldier’s shooting in CA:TWS and the last battle against Thanos, where he definitely took a beating. I consider them to be faint but noticeable - Peggy is a spy afterall. Nothing gets past her.

This is only a sneak peek -not the whole fic. Hope to have it fully posted in a week or so (if I can update it at work enough this week)

With her hair up in a net, Steve caught a better look at the bullet wounds on her shoulder. They had been trudging through the endless woods clearing out all of Hydra hiding in and above the tree line. Their adversaries mastered how to be invisible before they even could. Falsworth had given the all clear when the scene was anything but - resulting in an array of gunfire in what felt like from all angles.

“I often don’t know who to thank for how clean those came out,” Peggy murmured.

“Dugan, or how much he picked up from his wife’s hobbies as a seamstress,” Steve quipped, remembering the scene as Peggy was hit in the shoulder. How everyone rallied together sterilizing what they could, the blood that seeped onto the torn rags, and holding her hand as Dugan worked his magic. He kissed her shoulder where the three bullet wounds were as if they hit her yesterday.

Peggy wrestled in her mind, a delicate way to bring it up. “And, what about you?”

“What about me?”

“You have a few speckles on your abdomen,” she uttered, pulling him closer.

He should never underestimate Peggy’s power of perception, and yet he always did. “It was an accident. He wasn’t who he thought he was, who he needed to be, to kill me.”

“Load, aim, fire seems like a pretty conscious choice to make,” Peggy noted, in a soft voice almost like a whisper.

“For him, it wasn’t. He didn’t know what he was doing at the time.”

It was the sharpest intake and slowest exhale Peggy took all day. “The Winter Soldier?”

Steve nodded his head, leaning his on hers. Peggy’s fingers trailed down to the light line on his right thigh, as her other hand wrapped her fingers between his other that still had a considerable jagged white-colored slash near the wrist lightly disrupting the random pattern of freckles around it. She lay patiently in the middle of the history, or future, he didn’t know how to tell it all.

[thewoildisyeroister]

pls help me there’s a steggy fic I love but I can’t find or remember the name, the only thing I remember was Steve being found out the ice earlier and having to re learn motor skills with Peggy, specifically a scene about picking up paper clips ahaha

[death-isnt-surprising]

Steve: Peggy, are you hurt? Peggy: No, I’m just bleeding to death! How are you?

[stargaterevival]

Masterlist

romance 💕 | fluffy 🥰 | sexy 🔥 | hurt/comfort 🥺 | mystery❓

Elle's Fics (blog)

Steve Rogers/OFC - What was Lost 💕 🔥 🥺❓

Steve Rogers/Peggy Carter - Fetish 💕 🔥

Marvellous Men of Marvel (blog)

Stargate Revival (blog)

Daniel Jackson x gn!reader - You and Me (wip) 💕 🔥 🥺❓

GIF by super-gates-blog

Sam Carter/Martouf/Lantash:

Worlds Colliding 💕🥺

Capturing Samantha 💕🥰

Rewrite planned at some point for old fics that are a long Sam/Martouf adventure and Sam/Martouf vs Sam/Rodney romantic comedy, if there's any interest.

[justiceiswater]

All this time she's been traveling and hasnt learned how to pick locks? Nat has lots of work to do!

and her parents! why must they be such idiots? their daughter is literally in danger every second of every day and they are gonna get stubborn about her boyfriend? she could die from her own mutation but they are gonna blame it on just some guy? I could never. Im a way better parent than them.

Non-Sequential [Ch. 7]

Pairing: Pre-Serum Steve Rogers/Steve Rogers x Reader

One night, Steve Rogers met a beautiful dame named Y/N. He hadn’t intended on letting her get away. But fate had other ideas. Y/N appeared and disappeared in his life so hauntingly that Steve started to wonder if she was an angel meant to watch over him.

Word Count: 2,880

A/N: Inspired by the film The Time Traveler’s Wife. But not one of those fics that just literally rips off the whole movie and plugs in characters where they please.

Chapter 6

Steve was leaning against the doorway for one of the many labs in the compound. Y/N was sitting on a stool across from Nat. On the table between them were countless mock door knobs and locks. Nat was talking in an quiet and patient tone. And Steve could tell from Y/N’s expression alone that she was listening as intently as possible. “How long you think your boyfriend is gonna stare at us for?” Nat asked so seamlessly after her instructions that it Y/N had to process what she actually asked.

Y/N blinked and then looked to the door. Her face immediately broke into a loving smile when she spotted Steve. She jumped up from her seat and practically skipped to him, giving him a quick peck on the lips as her greeting.

Keep reading

[angelremnants]

Roll Call l J. B. Barnes

TWO. More Than A Soldier

summary : The biting winters of 1943 paled in comparison to the frozen hearts of soldiers, weary and broken by the unrelenting call of war. For men burdened by despair, the burn of alcohol was the only warmth they knew. Sergeant Barnes lived for one purpose: to stand by his best friend’s side, no matter where the battlefield led them. But a chance encounter at a dimly lit bar near the military camp changes everything. A young woman, bold yet gentle, awakens something in him—a spark long buried beneath years of frost and pain. Inspired by Roll Call by The Neighborhood.

pairings : James ''Bucky'' Barnes x f!reader, implied!Steve Rogers x Margaret Elizabeth "Peggy" Carter

warnings : Mature themes (13+), flirtation and teasing, mentions of insecurity, fluff.

word count : 3.8k

(ao3 version)

Several months had passed since [Y/N] had first met Bucky. Over time, Steve, Peggy and him had become regulars at the diner, often stopping by when they had free time away from their military duties. What had started as casual visits quickly turned into frequent hangouts, and soon they became an inseparable part of [Y/N]’s daily life. She’d found herself spending hours at the diner with them, laughing and talking when they had time to decompress.

Recently, they’d even begun to invite Peggy and her to join them during some of their more intense training sessions. 

Steve and Bucky held considerable rank within the military, which granted them certain privileges. As a result, she’d been exceptionally invited to observe their training session, a rare opportunity for someone not officially enlisted. With the respect they commanded and their strong rapport with the higher-ups, gaining access to the military base was hardly a challenge. It also helped that her frequent presence around them, especially at the diner, had made her somewhat of an accepted figure in their circle. 

It wasn’t uncommon either for Steve to want Peggy’s perspective on their training techniques, and occasionally, she’d drop by to watch them in action, even if she wasn’t directly involved in the physical drills. She still held a lot of sway in military matters, and her strategic mind was something they all respected.

This unusual invitation to witness the soldiers’ grueling routine was just another perk of being close to them.

“Alright, you two, try not to break anything this time,” Peggy teased as she leaned against the wooden fence, arms crossed, her sharp eyes scanning the training ground.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Carter,” Bucky quipped back, his tone light, but his grin giving away that he enjoyed the back-and-forth.

“Sure, that’s what you say now,” she smirked, her gaze turning to [Y/N], who stood beside her. “So, how’s it going with Bucky? Been keeping him on his toes?”

This pulled out a laugh out of the woman who glanced over at said man, who was busy stretching with Steve. The two of them were laughing about something, but as always, there was that playful tension between them, especially when it came to their friendship. 

[Y/N] couldn’t help but smile to herself. She knew the effect she had on him now. The teasing, the constant back-and-forth—it was more than just fun and games. There was something real there, and she had to admit, she was enjoying it.

“Maybe,” [Y/N] teased, leaning in with a grin, “I thought it was just a physical attraction at first, but now… I’m not so sure.” Her eyes stayed focused on Bucky, who caught her gaze for a second before quickly looking away.

Peggy raised an eyebrow but didn’t push. “I can see that. It’s more than just the physical stuff, huh? I mean, I’m not an expert on matters of the heart, but I have a good eye for things. And those looks? Definitely more than just a passing glance.”

[Y/N] rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide the smile that tugged at her lips. “Really? ‘Those looks’? I don’t know whether to laugh or feel embarrassed. You sure you’ve let go of that whole clairvoyant thing?”

Peggy gave her a playful nudge, and the two of them shared a quick laugh. Then, they turned their attention back to Steve and Bucky, who were now joking about something, their banter growing louder as they stretched. Steve, in particular, seemed to be a little more animated when it came to teasing Bucky.

“You know,” Peggy murmured, her voice low, “There’s something… different when Bucky looks at you. He’s got that same glint in his eye he’s had for years, but it’s softer, more focused on you.”

[Y/N] raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure it’s not just because I give him a hard time about everything?”

“Could be,” Peggy agreed with a grin, “but I’ve got a feeling. You’ll see what I mean soon enough.”

As the two men finished their stretches and stood up, Bucky gave them both a smile. He was still sweating, his t-shirt clinging to his chest, but there was a confidence in the way he moved that made the civilian bite her lip in approval.

“Alright, we’re done here,” Steve said, walking over to the fence where the two women were standing. He shot Peggy a playful look. “What do you think? Could we pass the test?”

Peggy gave him a knowing look, her lips curling into a smile. “Just don’t go thinking you’ve got the whole thing figured out. You’re not as strong as you think.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that, Carter,” Steve shot back. “If we were to have a little competition—”

“Not a chance, Rogers,” Peggy interrupted, shaking her head, her grin widening. “I’ll pass, thanks.”

As the training session wrapped up, [Y/N] stood a little apart from the others, her attention flickering between Bucky and Steve. They were still laughing, but something in Bucky’s gaze had shifted—more focused now, like he was waiting for something.

“Hey,” she teased as she saw him approach her, eyes flicking over his impressive form, “Nice bicep stretch. I don’t think I could ever stretch mine that far.”

“Sorry, little lady,” Bucky shot back with a grin, “but I doubt you’ve got the strength to match me.” He flexed his arm, giving her a playful wink.

She punched him lightly in the arm. “Ow. Alright, alright, I take it back.” His laughter filled the air while he feigned being hurt, and she couldn’t help but join in, the sound of it pulling a smile from her. The banter died down, and a quiet moment passed between them. Their eyes locked, the unspoken connection between them as clear as the first time they’d met.

“So, when can we do this again?” [Y/N] asked Bucky, her voice a little lighter than usual.

He glanced at her, his eyes narrowing with mischief. “How about tomorrow afternoon? I’ve got a bit of free time and if I’m not mistaken, it’s also your day off. Just you and me?”

Her heart skipped a beat at the invitation, but she forced a casual smile, teasing him a little. “You sure you can handle me on your own, Barnes?”

Bucky smirked. “Oh, I think I can manage. I’ll come to pick you up, doll.”

She made her way over to the fence where her coat was hanging, brushing the cool leather against her fingers as she pulled it down. The wind was starting to pick up, but it was nothing compared to the heat she felt between her and Bucky.

Turning, she caught his eye, giving him a sly smile as she approached him. He straightened, almost instinctively, as if waiting for her next move.

Before he could say anything, [Y/N] reached up, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek, her lips lingering just a moment longer than necessary. He froze, clearly surprised, his eyes widening as she pulled back, her smile widening.

“See you around, Bucks,” she teased, her voice low and playful. “I’m really looking forward to tormenting you some more.”

Bucky stood there for a moment, his hand half-reaching for her, but she was already turning to walk away, her coat flowing behind her. As she moved toward the exit, she couldn’t resist glancing over her shoulder at him—his expression was a mix of surprise and something else she couldn’t quite place. But it didn’t matter. She had him exactly where she wanted him.

With a final, playful smile, [Y/N] slipped out of the training grounds, leaving Bucky to wonder just what would come next.

The day had come faster than expected, and despite her best efforts, she couldn’t shake the nerves bubbling in her stomach. She reread for the third time the note Bucky had left her at the post office when she had left him a homemade lunch box for dinner last night, making sure she hadn’t misunderstood anything.

Only one hint was given to her regarding their day activity: they would be outdoors for a while, and given that he was going to come and pick her up, she guessed it most likely wouldn’t be a stroll in the park next to her place. What exactly could they do there? She couldn’t help but feel a mix of excitement and confusion. Was it a date? Or just another one of their usual hangouts? She tightened her grip on the small gift she had wrapped carefully—something to thank him for taking care of her these past few weeks. It wasn’t much, but she hoped he’d appreciate it.

When the time came, she headed outside, walking briskly to the curb where she’d agreed to meet him. Her heart skipped when she saw him, leaning casually against his motorcycle. His leather jacket looked perfect against the morning light, and the smirk on his face as he spotted her made her breath hitch.

His gaze softened when he saw her.

“Hey, doll,” he greeted her with a grin, pushing his sunglasses up onto his head. “Ready to ride?”

“You’re looking like a badass,” she teased, her nerves easing a little as she walked toward him. “You sure you’re not gonna give me a heart attack and be reckless on the road just for the laughs like the last time?”

Bucky chuckled, straightening up. “C’mon, don’t be a scaredy-cat. I’ve got you.” He patted the back of the bike, and she couldn’t help but roll her eyes, though her lips betrayed her, curling into a grin.

“Alright, but don’t get any ideas with what I just said. I’m not your personal stunt rider.” she answered, walking over and swinging her leg over the seat behind him. She grabbed onto his waist, the warmth of his body radiating through his jacket.

Before she could settle, he handed her a new helmet. It was sleek, a dark shade of matte black with a subtle silver accent. She blinked in surprise. “What’s this?”

Bucky shrugged casually, but there was a slight gleam in his eye. “Thought it was time you had your own helmet. Wouldn’t want anything to happen to you, especially with how often you end up on the back of my bike.” He grinned. “And, well, I kind of like having something of yours close by, you know?”

Her fingers lingered on the helmet, touched by the gesture. “You didn’t have to do that,” she murmured, but her heart skipped. It was such a Bucky thing to do—thoughtful, but with that hint of humor he always wore.

“Don’t mention it,” he replied, already starting up the bike. “Now, you gonna put it on or what?”

She nodded, slipping it on, feeling the warmth of it against her head. “Let’s go.”

As they rode, the wind whipping through their hair, she leaned her head against his back, feeling the solid warmth of him under the leather of his jacket. The rumble of the motorcycle beneath them was steady, but her heart was anything but—beating faster with every turn they took, every mile they crossed. His body moved slightly with the bike, and she matched the rhythm instinctively, her fingers tightening around his waist. 

She felt free, but also tied by the electricity between them, a tension that seemed to vibrate with every bump in the road. She could feel the strength in his muscles, the steady rise and fall of his chest, and her own pulse raced, matching his. The cold air didn’t matter anymore; it was only the warmth of him that kept her grounded as their heartbeats seemed to sync, racing in time with each other.

After a while, they left the city behind, heading toward the edge of the forest where the trees began to thicken. Bucky slowed as they entered a clearing, the landscape opening up to reveal a frozen lake in the distance, its surface glimmering under the winter sun. He pulled the bike to a stop at the edge of the clearing and turned off the engine.

“We’re here,” he said, getting off the bike after turning off the engine and offering his hand to help her dismount. “Welcome to my secret spot.” 

She took his hand and stepped off, her eyes widening. “Your secret spot, huh?” She looked around in awe. The area was breathtaking—the lake stretched out before them, the surface pristine and covered with a layer of ice. Snow-dusted trees surrounded the edges of the clearing, the silence broken only by the faint rustling of the wind through the branches.

“I didn’t expect this,” she said, taking in the quiet beauty of the place. “It’s perfect.”

Bucky took off his helmet and smiled at her, gesturing toward the frozen lake, now sparkling in the late afternoon light. “It’s my little hideaway. I come here when I need to get away, you know? Quiet. Peaceful.”

“Does Steve know about this secret spot?” she asked, teasing him lightly.

He shot her a pointed glance as he helped her get rid of her protection gear, grinning. “I don’t exactly tell people about it.” She looked intently at him when she saw Bucky’s expression softening. “I come here when I need to clear my head… when I need to feel like myself, not a soldier.”

“What do you mean?”

He hesitated, eyes distant for a moment. “It’s not that I don’t like being a sergeant. But sometimes, it’s hard to feel like I’m doing the right thing. Like I can’t fulfill the tasks they give me. That I’m not the one who should be holding a gun, pulling the trigger. That I’m just a pawn in a much bigger game.” He met her gaze again, a quiet frustration lingering in his voice.

She tilted her head, her eyes soft with concern. “You don’t feel like you’re the person you want to be, do you?”

He sighed, his gaze still focused on the frozen surface of the lake. “Exactly.”

The weight of his words lingered between them, as if carried by the chill in the air.

“Of course, I knew what I was signing up for,” he continued, his voice steady but tinged with frustration. “That’s obvious. But there are days I feel discouraged. I want to be there for the others—for Steve. But the thought of being on the frontlines, of doing this day in and day out… sometimes it just drains me.”

He exhaled sharply, as though trying to push away the thoughts that had been haunting him. “I enlisted so young. And as I got older, I started to realize more and more what I was really doing. I’ve seen people lose themselves entirely—forgetting everything except for the taste of blood and war.”

Her chest tightened as she listened, her heart aching for the vulnerability he rarely let anyone see. “Bucky,” she said gently, reaching for his hand. “I think you’re more than just a soldier. No matter what happens, you’ll always be you. And no matter the choices you make, I believe they’ll always lead to what you truly want. You’ve got a good heart, Bucky. And I’m glad you’re sharing it–all of this, with me.” she gestured to the surroundings.

A faint, surprised smile flickered across his face as he turned to look at her. Her warmth softened the sharp edges of his thoughts, grounding him in the moment.

Bucky’s lips twitched into a faint, almost self-deprecating smile. “You make it sound so simple,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. His eyes searched hers, as though looking for something he couldn’t quite name.

“But maybe… maybe you’re right. Maybe it’s not about being the guy who holds the gun. Maybe it’s about the people who remind me why I’m holding it in the first place.”

The way he looked at her then, his expression softening, made it clear that she was one of those people. “Thanks for that,” he added, his voice warm with sincerity. “And for seeing the parts of me I can’t always see myself.”

He took her hand, leading her toward the edge of the lake. They stood for a moment, simply watching the snow drift lazily from the sky. Bucky suddenly grabbed her hand, pulling her closer, the playful spark in his eyes unmistakable.

 “Ever skated before?” he asked, an amused glint in his eyes. She shook her head, feeling a little hesitant but intrigued by the idea. 

Bucky, ever the always prepared soldier, pulled a pair of skates from the basket of his motorcycle. “I figured you’d need these,” he said with a smirk, handing them to her. She raised an eyebrow, amused at how much he thought ahead.

[Y/N] moved back to one of the bikes and perched herself on the seat to start putting on her skates. She tugged at the laces, but the cold air made her fingers fumble, and she couldn’t quite get the skates to cooperate. She muttered under her breath, frustration creeping in as she realized how clumsy she was being.

Without a word, Bucky walked over to her, his presence making her heart race a little faster. He crouched down in front of her, a soft smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Let me help you,” he said gently, his hands steady as he took one of the skates from her.

The way he moved so easily and with such care made her pause. His warm hands brushed against her skin as he knelt down in front of her, his face only inches from hers. The contrast of his focused, calm demeanor with the moment’s tension left her flustered. He looked up at her with a playful smile as he pulled the laces tight, his eyes never leaving hers.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her cheeks turning pink. His closeness, the chivalry of the moment, had her feeling a mix of warmth and nervous excitement. She couldn’t help but smile at him, feeling a rush of affection she hadn’t quite expected.

“Hey,” she started, trying to sound casual, “can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” he replied, standing up and brushing the snow off his hands.

“Why does everyone call you Bucky? It’s not exactly close to James, is it?” She tilted her head, genuinely curious but also trying to divert attention from the blush still lingering on her face.

Bucky chuckled and leaned casually against the bike, his expression softening. “It’s from my middle name, Buchanan,” he explained. “When I was a kid, my sisters couldn’t say ‘Buchanan’ right, so it came out as ‘Bucky.’ The name stuck, and eventually, everyone started calling me that.”

She grinned, her nerves forgotten for a moment. “So, it’s a nickname born out of sibling mischief? Makes sense, I guess. It suits you.”

“Yeah? You think so?” he asked, raising an eyebrow, his smirk deepening.

She shrugged, trying to keep her tone casual. “I mean, I can’t imagine yelling out ‘James’ across the diner. Bucky’s much better,” she teased, then added softly, “It’s cute, actually.”

His smirk faltered for a split second, his expression shifting to something warmer, something quieter. “Cute, huh?”

She nodded, her grin widening. “Yeah, it suits you. Has that… I don’t know, charm about it.”

“Well, I’ll take that as a compliment,” he replied, his voice low but amused.

He reached out his hand as she stepped off the bike seat to balance herself on the frozen ground. “But don’t get too attached to it,” he added with a sly grin. “You might just earn a nickname of your own soon enough.”

“Oh, I’d love to hear what you’d come up with,” she shot back playfully, her cheeks still warm from calling him—and his nickname—cute. But the way her hand lingered in his as he steadied her told a story her words couldn’t quite say.

They carefully made their way to the edge of the ice. At first, she was a little wobbly, unsteady on her feet, but Bucky was there beside her, offering a steady hand. “Don’t worry,” he teased. “I won’t let you fall… unless you want me to.”

With a chuckle, she allowed him to pull her along as they slid awkwardly across the ice. It was a little clumsy, but they both had fun trying to keep their balance, laughing as they fell into each other a few times. 

Their playful banter faded as they both found their rhythm on the ice, gliding across the frozen lake, feeling the crisp air and the freedom of the wide-open space around them. The ice creaked underfoot, but the world around them was silent, save for the sound of their laughter and the occasional breathless remark. As they skated, their movements began to flow more naturally, her balance improving as she kept pace with him. The moment felt timeless, the kind of place where it felt just the two of them existed, alone and free.

After a few minutes, Bucky stopped them in the center of the lake, both of them panting slightly from the exertion.

“I think we’ve earned a break,” he said, pulling her closer. “How about you tell me what’s in the package?”

She blinked, remembering the gift she’d brought for him. “Oh, right,” she said, reaching into her coat pocket and pulling out the small wrapped box. “I got you something.”

Bucky took it from her, unwrapping it slowly, a curious glint in his eye. Inside was a small silver pendant, a small photograph of their little group—him, Steve, Peggy and her—inside the locket.

“From that day we all went out together,” she explained with a soft smile. “I thought it’d be nice for you to have something to remember it by.”

Bucky’s eyes softened as he looked at the pendant, a small, appreciative smile forming on his lips. “You didn’t have to do this,” he murmured, glancing back up at her. “But it means a lot.”

She smiled back, relieved that he liked it. But before she could say anything else, Bucky closed the distance between them, his hand gently cupping her face. The world seemed to disappear around them as he leaned in, and before she knew it, his lips were on hers.

The kiss was slow, gentle, and electric. It was everything she hadn’t expected—soft and tender at first, but quickly turning deeper as the emotions they had been dancing around came to the surface. Her heart raced in her chest as she kissed him back, completely lost in the moment.

When they finally pulled away, she couldn’t help but laugh, breathless. “Took you long enough.”

Bucky’s smirk was full of quiet satisfaction as he ran a hand through his hair. “I was just waiting for the right moment.”

Her eyes sparkled with amusement, but there was something more in them now. Something that felt real. “Well, you’ve got it right.”

And for a moment, standing on that frozen lake, everything else disappeared. There was just her, Bucky, and the quiet world around them.

ending notes : friendly advice, if i were you, i wouldn't get too cozied up.

Want to read more of my works? Check out my masterlist !

dividers ©️ @chachachannah + @cyberbeat + @vesearartistry .

angelremnants ©️ 2024. All rights reserved. Do not repost, reproduce, or distribute without explicit permission.

PART ONE. l NEXT PART.

[ethvn-torchio]

soooo i'm starting a new steggy longfic and it'll take me a bit to complete but im hoping the first two chapters are complete and ready to post by the middle of this month! i'm really excited about this honestly

[what-is-your-plan-today]

Todays Masterlist reblog

I should probably have one of these masterlist things

Chris Evans

An Act of Aggression

Practise Makes Perfect

Disney Drabbles (Ongoing)

The Morning After

Ask Me Properly

Steve Rogers

Bandstands and Daydreams

What Happens in Vegas Does Not Stay in Vegas

The Snuggliest of Traps

Colin Shea

An Unexpected Gain (WIP)

Visual Fixation

Bucky Barnes

What Christmas is About

Jake Jensen

My Girl

Nick Vaughn

Together Is A Beautiful Place To Be

Jake Wyler

Headcanon: A New Start

Read on AO3