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green-eyeddragonfanfiction · 7 years

Text

Time: Chapter 2

Summary: Soulmate!AU/Reincarnation!AU. Female!Reader lives in a world where alien invasions and hordes of death robots occur and past lives and soulmates are very real. Like most people, she gets brief glimpses of her past. although a person’s past lives and their current life may have little to nothing in common, soul mates tend to transfer between lives, the core of a person staying the same throughout the eons. Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader, Steve Rogers x Female!Reader Warnings: Language, violence, blood/injuries Word Count: ~2,214 A/N: Sorry, I’m afraid this series might start out a little slow in the romance department, but I want to set things up right.

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The man was who truly caught your attention, though. Even though the outfit had changed a bit, you recognized him immediately. You’d heard rumors he was back, found preserved like some sort of human popsicle in a huge iceberg near Greenland or something. You hadn’t dared to believe. But there he was, fighting aliens on New York streets. Your heart ached, one of your past lives recognizing him as the love of its life. You sighed, melancholy. You glanced down at your wrist. In your mind’s eye, you could see the initials S.G.R written there beneath the scrap of fabric you kept it hidden with.

Two Years Later - Washington D.C.

One week after May’s funeral, you’d begun making arrangements to move out of the country. You planned on returning eventually, but you needed to get out of the U.S. for a while. For nearly two years you’d been getting all of your affairs in order, including petitioning for Romanian citizenship. You had close family in Romania, but after the attack on New York security had been heightened so it had taken longer than you had expected for it to be approved.

It wasn’t all bad, though. It gave you plenty of time to train Dean for taking over the cafe. He was a bright kid, and the loss of May didn’t break him like losing a soulmate did some. Sure, he’d mourned. He still mourned and probably always would. But instead of despairing, he used his pain as a force for good in the cafe, his passion for the place he felt closest to May showing in the way he worked hard every day, bringing a smile to all of the customers’ faces. He wore a ribbon on his wrist where is soul brand used to be; It was the same color of her skin- a lovely milk chocolate. It stuck out against his pale skin and he got asked about it a lot. “Just to remind me of my soul mate,” was all he would say in response while smiling. Dean was a brilliant young man and probably the only person you’d ever consider handing over your family’s property to, even temporarily as it was.

You sighed, thoughts returning to the present, and glanced up at the hazy D.C. sky as you walked. It was the first day of your three days in D.C., a trip focused on finalizing your citizenship with the U.S.-Romanian embassy. However, that didn’t stop you from sightseeing. Working at a coffee shop as you did meant that your sleep schedule was abnormal. You were up before the sun had even risen, hotel room pitch black, sans a few lights blinking in the gloom. You rubbed the sleep from your eyes as you crawled out of bed. You brushed your teeth quickly and put on some comfortable clothes before you wrangled your hair into something presentable and grabbed your jacket, phone, and room keycard. Slipping on your shoes, you ran through a mental checklist to make sure you weren’t forgetting anything. Satisfied, you slipped out of your door. You rode the nicely kept elevator down to the lobby. A tired-looking attendant wished you a nice day before she returned to staring at her computer’s screen. You nodded your head, mumbled a “good day” back, and stepped out of the lobby.

The air was a little chilly; Spring had only just recently started, so the days were still cold in the morning. You hugged your jacket tighter to yourself and pulled out your phone, opening google maps and punching in the Lincoln Memorial. It popped up with a route a second later. Like your hotel had advertised, you were pretty close to it and the other monuments surrounding the Tidal Basin. You hoped that the ungodly hour would mean fewer tourists. You set off in the direction your GPS told you, watching the world wake up as you walked.

By the time you reached the parks, the sun was just coming up. As you’d hoped, it was early enough that there were very few tourists around. A handful of them milled around here and there and a few locals were about, jogging or hurriedly crossing the park on the way to their jobs.

You were walking along the Reflecting Pool, meditating on the Washington Monument, when you heard someone running behind you. You scooted a little closer to the pool, making more room for them.

“On your left,” the person said. You felt your heart skip a beat in your chest as your head whipped around to look at the source of the voice.

“Stevie?” you said incredulously. You’d recognize that voice anywhere. Sure enough, it was none other than Steve Rogers.

Whatever he’d been expecting, it wasn’t that. He came to a sudden stop just a step ahead of you and turned around to look at you curiously. He looked you up and down in confusion while you balked. This wasn’t supposed to happen. You weren’t supposed to meet him. Weren’t the Avengers in New York?

“Sorry, do I know you?” he asked, eyes searching your face.

You grimaced. “No, sorry. I must have mistaken you for someone else,” you said, turning away from him. You set a brisk pace as you made your way back towards your hotel.

You hadn’t made it very far before a hand grasped your arm, stopping you in your tracks. You turned to look at him. He looked down at his hand as though he was as confused by it as you were. “Sorry, I don’t know what came over me...” he said, trailing off, eyes searching your face with even more scrutiny than before. It felt like you were being x-rayed by those piercing blue eyes. He released your arm, hand dropping to his side.

“It’s alright,” you said, giving him a tight smile before you turned away to keep walking. It hurt so badly. A part deep down inside of you told you to turn around and throw yourself at him and never let go. You squashed that voice the best you could, staring determinedly forward. You were so focused on your thoughts you didn’t notice him jog up beside you.

“Why did you call me Stevie?” he asked, startling you out of your reverie. You froze, looking over at him.

“Excuse me?” you asked him dumbly.

He smiled apologetically. “Sorry I keep bothering you. It’s just- I was wondering. Why did you call me Stevie? No one calls me that anymore,” he said, subtly shifting his weight from foot to foot uncomfortably. It wasn’t you that noticed the nervous habit, but your previous life. Steve always had been bad at talking to girls.

Your swore internally. Would he believe a lie you told him? Would he believe the truth? You plastered a falsely apologetic smile on your face as you answered. “Sorry, dude. Like I said, I mistook you for someone else,” you said, once more turning away from him, and walked away. Why did it get harder each time?

A pause, then, “You’re lying.”

Your blood froze in your veins. His tone was accusatory; matter-of-fact. You stood, still as a statue, as he walked up to you again.

“You recognized my voice. It surprised you. You recognized me before you even saw my face. Then you called me ‘Stevie,’ which I haven’t been called since before I went into the ice. And even then, only two people called me that,” he said, giving you a hard look.

Ah, shit. I’m fucked, you thought to yourself. You tried to come up with another reason for your reaction. You opened your mouth to explain it away when he cut you off.

“Don’t try to lie to me again. I know some good liars and I’ve gotten pretty good at reading them. You’re not a good liar,” he said, smirking slightly at your dumbfounded expression.

“I would... prefer not to...” do this, you finished in your head.

“... Not to lie? Good, we’re on the same page, then,” he said, smiling broadly. He had taken your meaning wrong on purpose. You rolled your eyes and cocked your hip. Your posture exuded sass that said you were unimpressed by his antics.

It was a mistake.

Recognition flickered across his face.

“Rosie?” he whispered, stunned.

You felt the blood drain from your face, posture going from bold to petrified in an instant.

“You are- were- Rose, right?” he asked, breathless.

“I have to go,” you said. Your voice sounded so far away; It was odd. You turned on your heel and practically ran away from Steve.

“Rosie, wait!” he yelled, running after you.

“That’s not my name!” you growled, moving faster.

“But it was! Please, wait!” he pleaded, reaching for your hand. You snatched it away from his hand, glaring at him.

“You’re mistaken,” you said, venom lacing your words.

“I thought we agreed not to lie,” he said, eyes pleading with you. You ignored his guilt-inducing looks, focusing on the path in front of you as you walked. By now, the park was getting busier. He had to dodge people as he walked so that he could keep up with you.

You ignored him, plowing through tourists, trying to get to the street as fast as you could. People around you were starting to take notice of Steve. He was famous, after all. He was one of the legendary Avengers and, even before that, a World War Two hero. Before long, so many people had him surrounded that he had no choice but to stop, losing sight of you in the crowd. Polite to a fault sometimes, your Stevie. It was one of the things you had loved about him.

Finally, you made it to the street. You flagged down a taxi, a lifetime in New York making it easy. You opened the rear passenger-side door and were about to close it when a hand grabbed the top of it, holding it open.

Steve.

You looked at him, heart breaking at the hopeful look on his face. “I’m not her, Stevie,” you said sadly.

“But you were,” he said resolutely. “And I’d like to get to know you, if you’d let me,” he said earnestly, causing your heart to ache.

You sighed, glancing at the taxi driver who looked at you impatiently. The meter was already running.

“You’ll regret this,” you said, staring at him sadly.

“Never,” he said, beaming down at you. You couldn’t help the small smile that graced your lips when you looked at him. You rattled off the numbers to your phone number, and he jotted them down in a tiny notebook he was carrying in his back pocket. You smiled at that. Some things never changed.

“My name is (Y/N),” you said. Without waiting for a response, you slammed the door to the cab. Steve looked up from his notebook, startled, as the cab swerved expertly into the DC traffic. You were out of sight in moments, so you didn’t see the way he smiled after you, watching as the yellow taxi disappeared into the DC streets, or how he flipped to an earlier page of his notebook. You didn’t see the two tiny intricate drawings of two women in its pages, one titled Peggy and the other titled Rosie.

When your phone rang the next day, you didn’t recognize the number. Thinking it was the embassy, you picked it up quickly.

“Hello? This is (Y/N) (Y/L/N),” you said professionally.

“(Y/N), thank God you gave me the right number,” said the voice on the other line.

“Steve?” you asked, confused.

“I don’t have a lot of time. Listen, you need to get out of DC as soon as possible. Get somewhere safe. I’m not quite sure what it is yet, but something bad’s happening. DC isn’t safe right now,” he said quickly.

You almost never heard Steve sounding this shaken. It worried you. “I can’t go yet, Steve. I have important business here,” you said. It had taken you two years to get this far. Going back now would undo months of work.

“You don’t understand, there’s-” his voice cut off.

“Steve?” you asked, unsure. You looked at your phone. The call had ended. You tried calling back but received a recording telling you there was an error. A few more tries yielded the same result. You groaned and threw your phone onto your bed. Barely a day back into your life and Steve was already causing you trouble. This was one of the reasons why you didn’t want to get close to him. You put each other in danger. You’d read enough comic books to know what happened to the important people in a superhero’s life, and being important to a superhero just gave them one more weakness. You thought about whether you should leave or not. It would probably be a good idea to listen to him, but you needed to stay put. Without knowing the details, you might walk directly into the danger you were trying to avoid. No, better to stay put and gather as much information as possible before you decided what to do.

You flicked on the TV, curious to see if the mystery danger would make it onto the news. You turned to a news station and were shocked to see Steve’s face plastered all over the screen. The reporter was outside of the Triskelion, SHIELD’s huge base on the Potomac, and claimed that Captain America was now a fugitive of the state and SHIELD. They said he had a part in assassinating SHIELD Director Nick Fury alongside a redhead you recognized as Black Widow. They urged the public to keep an eye out for these “fugitives” and send any helpful tips into the police. You turned the TV off and looked out the window, suddenly fearful for Steve’s life. You knew he didn’t do it, but the rest of the country probably wouldn’t be as convinced of his innocence as you.

“Oh, Stevie. What did you get yourself into?”

Chapter 3

This series is finished, but if you want to be tagged in my other fics, check out this post! Sorry, but responses to this post asking to be tagged will be ignored, so send me an ask or like one of the taglist posts!

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