#of course he’d go back to Peggy

[itslikeaspaceship]

Age of Ultron will forever and always be my favorite.

you don’t understand.

“i guess they’re my mess”

i love all my bbys

[buckys-arm-and-rios-dagger]

Not Alone

Bucky x GN!Reader

Description: Bucky is refusing to come to terms with everything that’s happened following the fight with Thanos, and you know that the walls he’s carefully built up around his emotions are going to come crashing down one day. So what happens when they finally do?

Warnings: Angstyyyyy, Bucky is SAD, takes place somewhere between that and FATWS but idk where, crying, hurt/comfort, I don’t know if it’s an inherently “happy” ending per say, but it's a comforting one I think, some mentions of bad mental health, NOT Endgame!Steve Friendly (just like me)

A/N: I am sorry for this

((18+ only below the cut please and thank you!!))

Bucky had been struggling, you knew it.

You’d been by his side for long enough to know when he was trapped in his own mind

But this was different

Usually, you could at least get him to tell you what was wrong

But ever since the fight with Thanos he’d avoided talking about what was wrong

You could hardly blame him, it had been a difficult last few months

In the fallout of his return from spending 5 years as a dust pile and the subsequent fight, you had held Bucky’s hand through Tony’s funeral, being placed in a holding cell by the US Government, his pardon hearing, moving back to Brooklyn, starting his court-mandated therapy, and trying to acclimate to the modern world, and fully come to terms with the pain and torture HYDRA had inflicted him for decades.

And then of course there had been Steve.

You knew Bucky was upset and hurt over his best friend leaving him, and everyone else he had grown close to, behind to be with Peggy.

And you could hardly blame him.

Suffice to say, Bucky had been through few months alone, and you knew it had been hard on him

But whenever you had tried to ask him about it he simply smiled and said “I’m fine, Doll. I’m okay.”

But you couldn’t help but notice that it didn’t reach his eyes.

He was trying so hard to be strong, to push down how he was feeling, but you saw the seams starting to unravel

All the pain he’d been feeling for months finally came to a head late one night

You two were doing dishes after dinner, you were washing and he was drying

Occasionally, Bucky would bump his hip against yours, making you smile and gently splash water at him, making him laugh

You and your boyfriend loved this, just enjoying each other’s presence with the two of you being giant dorks together

Everything was good, you two were having fun

Until Bucky went to dodge one of your splashes and lost his grip on the glass he was drying.

The glass shattered on the floor below, and he immediately went tense.

“Oh God, Bucky!” You grabbed his flesh hand gently, checking for injury, “are you okay?”

He didn’t reply, but looked down at you touching his hand

“I don’t see any injuries. You’re alright, Sweetheart. I’m gonna clean up the glass, okay?” You pressed a kiss to his stubbly cheek, but he didn’t look up.

Cleaning up the shattered glass went quickly, but when you finished you noticed Bucky was staring blankly at the floor where you’d cleaned, his blue eyes misty

“Bucky?” You cupped his face, but he still wouldn’t look at you, “Talk to me Sweetheart, what's wrong?"

“N-nothing,” his voice was soft, like he was trying his hardest to keep it from wavering, “I’m fine, Doll.”

“If you can look me in the eyes and say that, I’ll believe you.”

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” it was almost a chant as he slowly lifted his head, “I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m–”

As soon as Bucky looked you in the face he burst into sobs, falling to his knees in front of you.

It tore a hole in your chest.

“Oh…” you knelt down in front of him, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him close, cradling his head against your shoulder, “oh Baby, oh, Bucky…”

He buried his face in your neck as you rocked him from side to side, your fingers carding through his hair, “shhhh, it’s alright, let it out, Baby Boy, let it all out…”

“H-He was my best friend,” Bucky whimpered, “h-he was my best friend, and he…he j-just fucking left me here–!”

“Oh, Baby, I know,” you kissed his temple, “I know. I’m so sorry, Sweet Boy…”

You held him tighter as he dissolved into sobs again.It broke your heart.

You knew that this was good for him, that Bucky had been fighting this for so long

He needed the release, the catharsis, but that didn’t mean it didn’t fill your broken heart with anger.

Anger at Steve for leaving the man in your arms behind in a world he didn’t understand, at the Government agents that treated him like a criminal for things that he had been forced to do when he had no control over his mind and body, at anyone who had ever caused this kind, sweet, gentle, loving man harm and left him unable to feel his emotions properly until he reached his absolute breaking point

When Bucky calmed down again you suggested moving to the couch

“It’ll be a lot more comfortable than the floor, Baby,” you said, gently taking his hand in yours and leading him to the living room

Once you two were seated you wrapped him in your arms again, keeping him close and rocking him.

“Talk to me, Baby, please,” you cupped his face, thumbing away his tears, “tell me what’s going on in that head of yours.”

“It’s… I wasn’t worth it.” Bucky said in a quiet, broken voice, “I told Steve I wasn’t, back when he… when we were on our way to Siberia. He tried to tell me that I was, and being with you, in Wakanda, when I was finally free I started to think that maybe he was right, maybe I was worth saving. That I was deserving of some kind of peace. But then Steve–”

His voice cracked, and you gave him a comforting hug.

“I just keep thinking that if I was really worth what you all went through for me then he– he wouldn’t have left me here alone."

Tears flowed freely again, and you hugged him tightly to you, pressing comforting kisses to his temple

“Shhhhh, Baby Boy, it’s alright,” you whispered, “it’s gonna be alright…”

Bucky shook his head and buried his face further into your neck

“I just… it makes it hard, y’know?” You nodded and kissed his forehead, he took a deep breath and added, “I’m scared. I keep thinking that one day I’m gonna wake up and you’re not gonna be there. T-that you’re gonna realize the same thing he did. That I’m not worth all of this.”

“Oh… Oh no, oh, Bucky…” You rubbed his back, pressing kisses to the top of his head, “oh, Honey…”

You cradled his head against your chest, running your fingers through his hair and hushing him, rocking him from side to side.

Once he’d calmed down slightly you took his face in both hands, stroking his stubbly cheeks.

“Baby? Can you look at me, please?” His sad blue eyes met yours, and you gently wiped the tears from them.

“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry Bucky. I’m sorry for everything you’ve been through, Baby. And I’m especially sorry that you were made to think like that.”

Bucky looked you in the eyes. No one had ever said that to him before.

“and speaking as someone who was involved in all of that trouble? You were absolutely worth it. Every minute of it. The two years Sam, Steve, and I spent looking for you, every fight, every bit of time spent on the run, every moment spent waiting for Shuri to okay letting you out of the ice in Wakanda. I would go through every second of it again if it meant that you got to be free, Sweet Boy. Even if you weren’t the man I love, even if you weren’t Steve’s best friend, even if you were just some guy I had no attachment to, I would fight just as hard if it meant you got to be safe and free from those monsters. Because you didn’t deserve HYDRA’s abuse, and you didn’t deserve to be punished for things you couldn’t control.”

He rested his hands over yours, and you pressed your forehead against yours

“I know it’s hard to trust anyone after what Steve did, I know. But I would never, ever leave you alone. I’m with you for the long haul, Sweetheart. You’ll always be worth it in my eyes."

His eyes searched your face, looking for any sign that it wasn’t true, and found nothing but genuine love and care. You gave him a soft sad smile.

“I’ll be here, right by your side, as long as you want me, Baby,” you kissed the tip of his nose, “you aren’t alone anymore, Buck. You’ll never be alone again.”

Bucky dissolved into tears in your arms again

“I-I’m sorry,” he cried over and over into your shoulder, embarrassed at his carrying on, “‘m sorry I keep cryin’...”

“Shhhhh….” you continued rocking him and rubbing his back, “you don’t have to apologize for expressing your emotions, Sweetheart. You’re allowed to feel bad. You’re allowed to let it out. I’ll be here for you.”

You held Bucky until he calmed down, and he let you lead him into the bathroom to clean his face with a cool cloth, not wanting the salt from his tears to irritate his skin, and showering him with affection and love.

When you two finally laid down to sleep that night you held the man you loved as close as humanly possible, pressing little kisses to his hairline and rubbing his back

Bucky nestled into your chest, listening to your heartbeat and relishing the feeling of skin-to-skin contact

“Get some sleep, Baby Boy,” you whispered, “I’ll always be here when you wake up. I love you so much, my Darling.”

Bucky looked up at you, a small but genuine smile on his face.

The first you had seen in the months since Thanos

“I love you too.” he kissed your lips, “goodnight, Doll.”

As Bucky drifted off in your arms, he felt better.

Lighter.

Better than he had in months.

He wasn’t cured, he knew that.

The demons of his past still haunted him, still clawed at the edges of his mind and whispered that he wasn’t worth the pain

But knowing that he wasn’t alone, that you would stay by him and support him through even his darkest days?

That you wouldn’t leave no matter what?

Maybe he could finally start to heal

[the-winter-spider]

Kinda Don’t | B.Barnes

Warnings: Angst, character death

Word count: 3.5k

A/N: Never proof read, going through my drafts and just posting shit lol, enjoy?

Master list

****

Bucky and you had a long history, and I don't mean long as in only a decade but 7 of them.

You were the girl next door literally, you grew up directly next door to Bucky. You moved in right before puberty hit not just the boys but you too.

It was always just you three and it was the first time you had any real friends, your father was part of the army, science sector of it so you were constantly moving never having enough time to actually make any life long friends let alone fall in love but when he went missing, later discovered dead in some secret lab he had under your house, your mother and you packed up and moved to the city that everyone wanted to live in, New York.

With the endless amount of possibilities or more so the endless amount of men your Mother could shack up with and have them support her and yourself. You didn't mind of course as long as she was happy, you were happy.

That was until her latest husband David started yelling a lot, then he started drinking a lot, then he hit you for the first time. Your mother told you it was the wrong place at the wrong time, you walked into the house right as they were fighting and he struck you. You never said anything except went straight to your room, then climbed out your window back to where Bucky was.

And when he saw you, you broke down. He promised he’d always be here for you and you were the only girl that would ever have his heart. He was true to his word to a certain extent. That was until puberty hit and every girl was throwing themselves at him, it was inevitable he was gorgeous.

He went out with every girl in town, except for you because you weren't as pretty as them even though he always would get drunk and end up climbing through your window instead of his, telling you just how you were the most beautiful girl he’d ever laid eyes on how he was so lucky to have you, but then the next day when you woke up he was gone, back out the window and back to holding some other dame in his arms.

But when the war got worse and people were getting their letters left and right you knew Bucky’s were coming and he stopped seeing other girls and he spent all his time with Steve and you.

It was different, he would hold your hand on the street, he would take you dancing, he would take you on dates. You found yourselves constantly under the sheets intertwined with one another and then one night when he thought you were sleeping he told you while running his fingers through your hair that it was only ever going to be you, it was only ever you and when he saw any future it was always with you.

He told you he was hopeless in love with you since the day he saw you standing by the moving truck holding a box and you tried your hardest not to open your eyes and tell him you were in love with him too.

The next day he enlisted and spent the last night he had with Steve and you at some Stark thing you cared nothing about but at the same time everything about because Bucky cared about it and you cared about Bucky.

And just like that he was gone and the first decade and a half of your history had ended before it ever really started. When Steve showed up on your step to tell you about Bucky and to give you the book that Bucky wrote to you every single day, he told you he was going to avenge his death and he would come back to you, and then he never did either. When Peggy Carter knocked on your door to tell you about Steve you shut the door and shut anyone out that was left in your life.

Till sometime in the 50’s in the paper it said Howard Stark was looking for volunteers and you never forgot how much Bucky would beam at the opportunity so you showed up at the base and he said yes before you could even speak after hearing how you were Steve’s best friend.

You were injected with the closest hope to the next super soldier serum without the drastic physical changes. They called you Miss America, and you hoped you would have made your boys proud but when Howard noticed you weren’t ageing as you should they ran tests, discovering that your cells rengernated at an extremely fast rate now allowing you to age as you should before you could run more tests and possibly find an antidote or even how enchanced you really were, Howard died.

You were alone again, Peggy tried her best to keep you company and to keep you hidden, you should have been in your late 60’s like her but instead you looked 3 decades younger than her, she thought it would be best to fake your death so that's what you did.

Y/N Y/L/N died in 1995 at the age of 75, your cause of death was undetermined. That’s when Lily Barnes was created, born in 1965 making you 30 years old, which is what you would stay looking for the next 2 decades, when they found Steve on ice you could have sworn you saw a wrinkle that was never there before.

When he found out Peggy was alive he was of course over the moon but when he saw you he couldn’t believe his eyes. He had Fury look into you and when he saw a death certificate, they found where you were buried and it was beside Bucky. But yet you were standing directly in front of him looking like you had only aged 5 years in the last 70. You told him everything, he was so mad at first but he came to terms with it when he realised he wasn’t going to be alone.

Fury tried to recruit you for the avengers but you wanted nothing to do with making new friends and losing them your heart simply couldn't handle it. Fury understood told you he didn't like it but he understood, he put you in a safe house Steve respected your wishes and besides Fury, Steve was the only one who knew where you were that until a red head knocked on your door, Steve beside her and he told you to suit up, you did no questions asked.

The next thing you knew you were on a jet, getting debriefed about someone by the name of Thano’s. But when you were getting close to a place called Wakanada, your heightened sense picked up on something you.

–

“Steve, what's wrong?” You stood by Natasha putting all your weapons in their correct spot.

“What isn’t wrong?” Natasha tried to joke but you ignored it.

“Stevie” You asked again “You know I can tell right? I can sense literally everything”

He gave you a soft smile “I forgot you were enhanced” he sighed “There’s something i haven't told you”

“No shit” You smiled

“She doesn’t know?” Sam asked from the front seat, Steve shook his head in response.

“How much doesn’t she know?” Natasha whispered

“None of it”

Natasha looked at you, placing a hand on your shoulder “I’m sorry in advance, I didn’t know” she then proceeded to sit by Sam, giving Steve and you the space you apparently needed for this conversation.

“I’m so sorry, i just, there was so much going on and you wanted to stay out of it and i know if you knew you would have been brought back in, but then Natasha happened and i didnt know about their history and he was so happy, I haven't seen him smile like that since you, then Wakanda happened, he deserved to be free, he deserves to be happy and so do you and it was wrong of me not to say anything, your my best friend you took care of Peggy, I – “

“Steve, slow down, what are you talking about?” Your senses were in overload, you could feel every atom, every fibre in the air, alerting you that you needed to run, that you needed to fight.

He gave you the same eye’s he gave you when your Ma past, the same eyes he gave you when Bucky forgot about your birthday because Dot said yes to a date, the same eyes he gave you when he told you Bucky died. “He’s alive, Bucky’s alive”

“What? Steve that's not funny”

“I know, I’m not joking” He reached just beside the shield and handed you a file that said CLASSIFIED in big red letters “Were arriving in an hour, I’m sorry I should have told you sooner, everything you need to know is in here. I’ll be right over there if you need me, I’m here for you”

The file was heavy in your hands, your mouth was dry. When you read his name at the top it felt you were swallowing a razor blade. You read everything as fast as you could, you held back tears, letting the metaphorically razor blade cut any emotions you wanted to have. You were angry, so angry, so hurt that this was kept from you, you wanted to kill Steve Rogers, you wanted to murder Captain America. But no more than you wanted to kill yourself, he was alive this whole time, the same time you were alive. You could have done something, why didn’t you know to do something? You should have felt he was still alive and in pain, he was your soulmate, he said you were soulmates. That was until you got to the second last page in the file, it was an HR paper from Stark Industries and your eyes were blurring with tears when you saw the world's relationship and saw two signatures at the bottom one reading James Barnes and the other Natasha Romanoff.

“Landing in 5, 4, 3 – “ You heard Sam counting down, you placed the file down. You took a deep breath soaking in every fibre of information presented to you in the last hour. You stood up having an internal battle of whether you should kill Steve now or later, you wanted to strangle Natasha, but it wasn’t her fault, you couldn't blame Bucky, she was amazing if you swung that way you would have fallen for her too, you should have known the second Steve told you he was alive, before you even opened the file, he always had a thing for redheads. You clipped your last knife to your thigh.

You gave Natasha a small smile and she returned it. You could feel Steve’s presence hovering beside you, as the doors whired open “Does he know?” you didn’t even look at Steve as the doors slowly opened.

“No” He sighed “Im so sore –”

You shook your head “Don't”

Natasha was the first one out, no doubt in your mind wanting to see Bucky, Steve followed shortly after, then Sam, then Bruce, the Rhodey, than you’

Her arms wrapped around his neck, her lips grazed his you heard her mumble an ‘i miss you’, that metaphorical razor you swallowed sliced your heart in half.

Steve hugged Bucky, whispering something to him and his blue eyes searched for you, disbelief written all over his face. He started to make his way to you, but stopped just before he could reach you, his eyes trailed over your figure, tears brimmed his eyes “Doll, I -”

You cleared your throat, shifting your demeanour from heart broken and love sick back to someone you swore you never wanted to be again and that was Miss America “We have a fight to win Sargent.”

He blinked a few times, shifting his gaze to Steve and he shrugged in return, he turned back to you “But I - “

Steve came up beside him “She’s right Buck”

Bucky looked like he was having an internal battle within himself before he nodded and the team made their way to the battle ground, Bucky never leaving your side, his pace stayed with you the whole time until the fight started, he kissed Natasha on the cheek wishing her good luck, before he got the chance to say something to you, your back was already turned getting in your fight stance.

You lost him for a while during the battle, while still keeping an eye on him without being too obvious. You did the same with Steve you knew he was more than capable and was no longer that little boy from brooklyn, even though you were still mad at him he was still your best friend, well one of them.

The fight dragged on, and when you thought you had any possible chance of winning, people started turning to dust all around you “no no no” you mumbled running closer to Steve, your eyes locked with Bucky “Y/n….” he trailed off before he was completely gone.

—

F i v e whole years.

Five whole years of losing Bucky again, five years of growing so close to Natasha you would consider her your best friend. It was just you two in the compound, you came back to the whole superhero lifestyle and tried your best to do anything you could to keep things running smoothly. It was hard half the fucking world was missing, but your whole world was.

You wanted to hate Natasha you did, she had everything you ever wanted in the palm of her hands and yet you couldn’t. She was everything you aspired to be. You were nothing like her and it made sense why Bucky kept anything you thought you had in the dark, it wasn't because you thought he was savouring it, soaking up every moment, no it was because he was ashamed.

You wanted nothing more than to hate her, it would have made things so much easier but she was just as amazing as everyone made her out to be, you hoped you could somehow find a way to get Bucky back and selfishly you hoped he would wildy confess his undenying love to you but you knew that would never happen, and at the same time you were rooting for them, he was your everything then and she was your everything now.

You could push your heart break aside for decades again couldn't you?

Could you die from a broken heart? You hoped it would make everything so much easier.

But you didn't and here you were about to do fucking time travel. Standing on the platform you tried to tune out all the energy and nerves you could feel radiating off of everyone, a hand found its way on your shoulder “Were gonna get him back Natasha smiled at you before turning to the rest of your teammates, her family “See you in a minute”

—

“You know, i thought living as long as i have would have been the craziest thing to ever happen to me” You smiled thinking of all the crazy shit you experienced in your overly lived lifetime.

“But here we are, in space going to some place called Vormir, don’t be too full of yourself y/n'' You laughed, bumping your shoulder against hers.

“Welcome” A voice echoed behind you. Grabbing your knife, Natasha reached for her gun. “Natasha, daughter of Ivan. Y/n, daughter of Lilith.

As you both made your way forward you tensed immediately recognizing who is in front of you.

“Who are you?” Natasha questioned, your knives still raised.

“Consider me a guide, to you and to all who seek the Soul Stone”

You eyed her cautiously before taking a step forward “Oh good, you tell us where it is, then we’ll be on our way”

Red skull looked at you “If only it were that easy”

He turned around starting to move forward, you looked at Natasha, she shrugged in response and then the two of you followed him near the edge of a cliff, what looked to be a sunset in the distance.

“What you seek lies in front of you, as does what you fear”

Natsha pushed ahead peering over the edge “The stones down there” Her back to you.

“For one of you” Red skull respond

You were overwhelmed, you could feel the stone, you could feel the calmness, the sureness radating off of Natasha, her pure willingness. Your feet dragged you forward, peaking over hoping the stone would be in reach, which you knew it wouldn't be, because it would be crazy for something to be that easy.

“For the other” He continued “You must lose that which you love, an everlasting exchange” He paused dramatically, you swallowed the lump in your throat “A soul for a soul”

She took your hand in hers, pulling you away from the ledge. Taking a seat on a rock, while you leaned on one. You knew what you had to do, what had to be done “Y’know, I think our hopefully chatter doomed us”

She smiled at you “We cant seem to ever catch a break huh?”

“People like us never really do it seems”

She stood up turning to face you “And here i thought we found a little bit of break in each other the last 5 years”

You smiled back at her “It's always too good to be true”

“Whatever it takes” She took your hand in hers

Swallowing back the lump in your throat “Whatever it takes”

She stared in your eyes, you felt nothing but love and longing radiating off of her “If we don't get that stone y/n, millions of people stay dead, Barnes stays dead”

Nodding in agreement “He deserves a life Nat” You placed your other hand on hers “A great one and you —“

“I'm starting to think we mean different people here y/n”

“For the last five years Nat, all we've been trying to do is get to right here, that's all its been about. Bringing every body back, getting Bucky back”

“Don't you get all sappy on me now y/n/n”

“Nat..” you trailed off

“You think I want to do this? I'm trying to save your life you idiot”

You squeezed her hand “Yeah, well I don't want you to. I've lived long enough Nat, this would be a great way to go” You smiled back your tears “Bucky has you, i have you” you looked off towards the sunset “It's not that bad of a sight, y’know if its the last thing i see”

She placed her free hand on your cheek, turning your head to face her again “I love Bucky” her eyes piercing into yours “But i love you more”

“No, Nat -“

I wasn't finished” Her thumb swept one out of a dozen fallen tears finding their way down your cheek “But he could never love me, his heart belonged to someone else but the little piece of it i got to see”

You shook your head as she brought your forehead to hers before she continued “Whatever it takes”

“Okay, you win” You released her hand before sweeping your leg under hers, placing your arm across her chest and pinning her down “Tell Bucky and Steve i love them”

She grunted before hitting your arm, and using her legs to flip you around before standing up and pointing her widow bite at you “You tell em’ yourself” before shooting it at you, an electrical charge attacked your body.

She started to run towards the edge before you recovered, grabbing your knife and aiming it at her leg grazing the side enough to knock her down.

Before you started to charge at full speed to the edge, as you were about to fall, she wrapped her arms around you shooting your grappling hook at the top of the cliff, you both swung back at full force smashing into the edge, you looked up “No no no” you tighten your grip on her but you could feel her slipping “How do you know i love you! This could be for nothing you dont know”

“I know”

You tried to reach her with your other hand for a better grip but failed

“Let me go”

“No” you sobbed “No please no”

“Its okay” she smiled

“Please” Tears were burning down your face, before she kicked off the wall her arm ripped from your grip.

“No!” You screamed till your throat was raw, as you looked down you saw her lifeless body laying there.

Everything went black and you could hear water running, you sat up frantically, you were no longer hanging off the cliff, as you lifted your hand out of the water a single stone laid in it. Your tears meshed with the water before you were being brought back.

“Did we get 'em all?”

“Are you telling me this actually worked?”

You dropped to the ground, cheeks raw from crying, you could feel all eyes on you, “Y/n? Where's Nat?” Bruce questioned, you turned to look at Steve, shaking your head no, avoiding all the other eyes because you wouldn't dare look into their eyes, you were nothing to them.

She was their family and you came back and she didn't.

[aurumacadicus]

1+14; angsty stuckony? 😩🫣

Hopefully this is angsty enough lol. For background purposes, Steve is a swan, Bucky is a magpie, and Tony is a hummingbird.

--

Steve had always been attracted to blues. And he probably shouldn’t have found it embarrassing, except of all the people who had showed interest in him, Peggy and Bucky had been the only two who hadn’t been upset when they noticed his eyes wandering over other people’s feathers when they were out and about. Peggy had politely but sternly told him that she was choosing to believe it was because he saw the artistic nature of them, and he’d agreed, because his eyes might have drawn toward blue feathers, but he was a monogamous bird.

Bucky teased him, though. It was always good-natured, but Steve couldn’t tell how sincere Bucky was when he noticed Steve’s eyes being drawn away and he grinned like a lecher and asked, ‘are they pretty?’ So he chose to ignore it like he had with Peggy. He had eyes. They caught blue and were drawn to it. It didn’t mean anything. He didn’t like to share, anyway.

“Steve,” Bucky said one night, when they were all battle-sore and retired to their own rooms to decompress. They were chowing through their third pizza before they went to pass out in bed. “Have you noticed Tony’s wings?”

“Buck,” Steve sighed, and the pulsing headache he’d been trying to beat to bed caught up to him. He wiped his hand on a napkin and then lifted it to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Right now?”

“They’re blue,” Bucky continued blithely, munching on a garlic knot. “Shiny.”

“He’s hummingbird on his ma’s side,” Steve said tiredly, repeating what Tony had told him when he’d noticed Steve’s… looking. He’d assumed Steve was comparing them to Howard’s instead of ogling.

Steve hadn’t corrected him, too scared of the reaction he might get when the team learned about his attraction to blue feathers. Sure, it would probably be good-natured teasing, but he’d been looked at as odd back in the forties, a swan not sticking to his own kind like they were known for. He didn't want to test that theory.

“I think we should court him,” Bucky continued, as if he hadn’t spoken at all. “Seeing his blues against your whites would be sexy as hell.”

“Buck,” Steve tried again, even though he couldn’t tell if he was angry or shocked. He also couldn’t help but imagine it, Tony’s iridescent feathers quivering against his white ones. It was a pretty picture in his head.

Bucky slanted him a sharp look, quelling whatever he was about to sputter. “Don’t fucking play stupid, Steve. Your eyes are already saying yes. Have been since the first time you looked at him, probably. Now I just need your mouth to tell me the same.”

Steve felt himself flushing, and his mouth dropped open in shock. Despite that, he could feel his wings raising, feathers beginning to spread in invitation. “I just don’t want Tony to…” he began, helpless.

At that, Bucky’s stern gaze faded. “Tony isn’t going to think less of you, Steve.”

“I know,” Steve said quickly, because he did. He did know that. Tony was one of the most accepting people he’d ever met. Too accepting perhaps, in some ways, but it wasn’t his business to say so.

But the few times he’d worked himself up to go after blue-feathered dames, before Peggy, they’d looked at him like he was… wrong. Like he was treating them as objects to covet. And while he’d come far enough to realize some birds were so chased after that they were wary of any potential mate that came their way, he still remembered the shame he’d felt as he wondered if they were right.

“Of course, there’s also the problem the opposite direction, where he thinks we’re joking or making fun of him,” Bucky muttered, apparently taking him at his word. He rubbed a hand over his chin thoughtfully as he picked through and discarded ideas. Steve waited patiently, because his tried-and-true flirtation technique was ‘god I hope they notice me first.’ Finally, he smacked his fist into his open palm. “I’ve got it. He seems to really like watching us spar.” He looked back up at Steve. “We need to manufacture a way to get him on the mat with us.”

“I’ll kill him,” Steve said simply. He was a swan. Tony was a hummingbird. Tony was only a few inches shorter than him, but his bones weren’t as solid. Delicate, Steve had called him once, and Tony had been torn between preening proudly and punching him in the face for patronizing him. Still. Steve had a hundred pounds on him of pure muscle with wings to match. Even if Tony wasn’t aware of their physical differences, he’d never allow Tony to goad him into a fight.

Bucky considered this, then leaned on the table with a sigh. “Oh boy. Well,” he groused, leaning his cheek on his fist irritably. “I suppose we can always ask Natasha to help us manufacture another ‘is that a threat or a promise’ situations with him.”

Steve remembered the situation where Tony had slanted a sly, smug look at them after mentioning him being sore for days. He remembered the lascivious tilt to his smile as his eyes flicked up and down Steve’s body before flitting to Bucky’s. He remembered the iridescent ripple of blues and greens along Tony’s wings as they fluttered becomingly behind him. He remembered the slow, syrupy drawled, 'is that a threat? or a promise,' a tease and an invitation all at once that he’d been too embarrassed to chase.

“She’ll be so insufferable about this,” Steve finally sighed, because he knew they’d be asking her.

Bucky huffed, shaking his head fondly. “Well, she usually is.”

[mx-your-name]

More head canons of Singer!Reader x Yandere Steve Rogers! (+Peggy Carter)

TW: Mention of murder and death, technically kidnapping, yandere behavior, obsessive love, manipulation if you squint your eyes, getting blipped from existence

-Where Steve Rogers would do anything to make you happy and smile to brighten up your day! You’re craving something sweet, sour, spicy? It’s on the table for you, hot and free.

-But he always expects something in return for getting you something as simple as a hug or just a kiss on the cheek, forehead, or the lips.

-Would definitely makes you both a matching bracelet since you used to make them all the time when you were younger

-If you were to ever get hurt like the simplest paper cut, burnt mark, or even hit anybody part on something Steve’s gonna treat it like someone had just stabbed you or something. Even if you keep telling him you're okay, get ready to be on the couch doing absolutely nothing with blankets, pillows, some food on your lap, your favorite movie on, and Steve right by your side cuddling you. Asking if you're comfortable every 10 minutes to make yourself uncomfortable or need the bathroom.

-You being sick would be a whole different story. It’s a sore throat? You can’t talk or sing at all until you're better! It’s a slight cold? You need medicine, blankets, and soup. Do you need the bathroom? Don’t worry he’ll carry you there and back! You're worried about him getting sick as well? He’ll go through the same pain as you so you're not alone through all this.

-When it comes to meeting your family for the first time, Steve is getting ready 3 hours earlier making sure to practice his lines and have a great first impression on your parents. He doesn’t wanna risk them saying that he can’t date you. Not like he’ll listen either way You tell him that he doesn’t need to do all that, oh yes he does he needs your father’s approval on you getting married. He’ll bring your moms favorite flowers to impress both of them. You have siblings? Don’t worry he knows how to get kids to think he’s amazing! You have a sibling that’s a teenager and doesn’t liken him? It’s alright, he just needs to find out what they like and don’t like.

-The first time that he had heard about your ex’s he was a bit angry on why they’d treat you like the way they did. Oh you never talked about your ex’s to him? You must’ve let it slip out when drinking on movie night one time.

-Onto the mention of movie night. Every Friday night he’d come home and spend time with you, eating some dinner with you before heading over to the couch to watch some movies, not like you had much of a choice if you wanted to or not. Though you’d have to explain some movies to him sometimes since he still didn’t understand much about what had happened after he got iced for 70 years after all.

-He killed your ex one night when you sleeping, tired for cleaning all day and totally not the drugged drink

-What do you mean one of your ex-boyfriend’s bodies is on the news? He shouldn’t have stayed out so late, after all there are a lot of killers out there killing innocent people.

-You wanna outside? Why? You have everything you would ever want and need here with him

-He’s a trained super soldier so of course you knew that fighting against him wasn’t gonna do much for you. Did you still try too? Yeah.

Infinity War

-When it comes to the end of Infinity War Steve didn’t hesitate to go straight home to you to make sure you were alive and that you didn’t dust like the rest of half the population

-You were home just watching a movie when you felt something weird happen to your body. Your cat that Steve had gotten you for your birthday by your side. Lifting one hand up to pet for it to go through confused to see your cat - who was named Mittens - let out a meow. You were freaked out by that bowl of popcorn falling onto the ground as you tried picking Mittens up for her to completely vanish. Tears pouring down your fast as you panic on where your cat had gone, looking down at your hand to see it turning to dust just like your cat had done a minute ago. The tears falling on your lap as you dust away into the living room to where your cat had gone

-Steve slammed the door open looking around the room yelling your name. He felt panicked, he had lost Bucky to the snap and he couldn’t just lose you either just like that. When searching the whole house to not only find you but also Mittens, going to the living room to see the bowl of popcorn dumped onto the ground left there untouched.

-When you were dusted into the soul stone the only thing you saw was orange everything. An orange ground, orange sky, and orange everything. But one thing that wasn’t orange was yourself, looking around confused on what was going on

-Venturing through the giant open space, your pajamas still on since you didn’t really wanna change out of warm comfortable clothes, soon running into what seemed to be Mittens who was running over to you

-It'd be an understatement if you were told that you didn’t miss your cat Mittens, it felt like the only thing that made everything alright was your cat.

Endgame

-For the last 5 years that you were blipped he’d be going through a terrible time not only did he lose Bucky but he lost you. And when it was you it felt like he couldn’t at least save the person he so dearly loves more than anyone. Besides Peggy Carter of course.

-So when Tony had finally invented time travel so they could defeat Thanos and bring back half thr population that was dusted. Steve was over the moon happy that they were one step away from being everyone back. Bringing you back.

-Once the second they won the war and were back on Earth Steve didn’t hesitate to take off running back home where the two of you live. He made sure the house and everything in it was kept the same.

-One moment you were with Mittens the next you were both dusting away once again, holding tightly onto your cat not knowing what could happen to either of you after all this. The next you were back at your house, the bowl of popcorn gone but Mittens in your arms once again. As if everything was the simplest dream.

-When Steve came through the front door a bit different than equals you were taken back by how changed he was.

-Never have you hugged tightly or for a whole day. You sat on the couch the entire time, and when you had to go to the bathroom he’d wait outside immediately hugging you once again, also asking if you were okay. When you were hungry both of you were in the kitchen, Steve hugging you from behind not once leaving your side.

-Now when it came to Peggy, Steve would either choose Peggy to come along with him or he’d bring you back into the past but it mostly always ended with Steve bringing Peggy to the future.

-Peggy would be taken back at first and a bit heart broken but understanding. She’d also grow to love you as well just as much Steve loves you. Maybe even more than Steve a bit.

-Back to Steve, he’d make sure that you always came first - which Peggy agreed on - he lost you once for 5 whole years and he wasn’t willing to lose you again. So maybe say goodbye to ever stepping foot outside, not like you ever did before you vanished.

[zaldritzosrose]

Billy Taylor - Halloween Headcanons

The fourth in a little collection of Halloween Headcanons for our Ewanverse boys (missing a few as they're being involved elsewhere!) for Fan Frankentober, see @fandomeventcenter for all the other contributions and the event details! Masterlist for the event can be found here...

Headcanons below the cut!

CW: Mentions of war, Billy being the best big brother, the Taylors being a soft family, Billy surviving the war, wartime Halloween, mentions of Halloween activities, mentions of reader (second person pronouns used), hints at reader and Billy's future.

As a child…

Billy was an energetic child, always running his mother ragged from an early age.

And Halloween only made him ramp it up a notch. Natural energy mixed with sweets, what a combination.

Peggy did what she could to decorate their little home.

Making paper craft décor with Billy was nothing short of fun and comedy.

But it made his day. Anytime spent with his mum meant the world to him.

And when Dora came along? Billy was the best big brother.

Taking her out trick or treating every year, matching costumes because he could never say no to her.

But the evenings after, with little buckets full of sweets, mum’s hot chocolates in front of the fire?

Those were the best part.

At the hotel…

When Billy joined Peggy at The Halcyon, he was so excited to see the grand hotel celebrated Halloween almost as much as it did Christmas.

Decorating the lobby with homemade décor, usually made by the staff.

Billy was quick to join in, spending time using what Peggy had taught him to make paper decorations that made everyone smile.

As a bell boy, he was one of the first to greet guests and he became a firm favourite among visiting children.

Willing to play spooky games, just as he would with Dora.

Even telling the children some of his scary stories in the lounges – with permission from his superiors of course.

One year, the housekeeping staff convinced everyone to have a party downstairs.

The kitchen had made some seasonal treats, candied apples, cakes – you name it, they made it.

Music played on a record player for them to dance to, homemade costumes from whatever they could fine.

In all honesty, it was so fun, it became an annual thing.

One year, he begged his mother to let Dora come along.

A bucket was placed out, filled with water and some left over apples.

No one could say no to Dora, not even their stern chef. Soon, that little girl had got everyone to take a turn bobbing for apples.

During wartime…

Halloween was on the backburner during wartime.

It was less about parties and just about spending time together.

Billy, Dora and Peggy spending the evenings together – back to hot chocolates and blankets.

Billy had turned 18 and was waiting for his enlistment papers.

If Peggy had her way, she’d keep him close. Her children were everything and she wasn’t ready to let him go yet.

Dora spent more and more time at the hotel, with Billy finding her in the evenings.

He missed taking her trick and treating and was desperate for a time when they could do everything they used to do again.

When he got enlisted, even though he was only down the road from the hotel, he missed everything even more.

So, when he finally made it home, a week after Halloween, he was already making plans for his next Halloween the best one yet.

And now…

You were a new addition to the housekeeping staff, close friends with Kate before you had even started working at the hotel.

You would pass Billy in the hallways, friendly enough. But he was entirely enamoured with you.

You were beautiful, funny and so very kind. There was little he didn’t adore about you, though he was aware he barely knew you.

He’d asked Kate about you. The things you liked, the things you didn’t.

Kate knew him well enough to know he had a crush on you – the way he’d avert his gaze and blush was a telltale sign.

But she knew you too. And she knew just how perfect you two would be together.

So, when Halloween rolled around, she made sure you two were in charge of organising the staff party.

Much like Billy, you loved Halloween and everything it entailed. You loved all seasonal holidays really. But you loved dressing up on Halloween.

You were downstairs in the staff room, organising the decorations for the year when Billy walked in.

A quick conversation made it very clear how much you two had in common. And your relationship only sparked from there.

Dancing for most of the night. Sharing your treats and hot chocolate at the end of the night.

So, it was no surprise, when a few months later you were a couple. Entirely inseparable.

And when next year’s Halloween rolled around, you were a firm addition to the Taylor household.

Dora was obsessed with you, threatening to take you away from Billy every time she spent time with you. Peggy adored you, treating you like a daughter.

The day of Halloween itself, Dora had begged you and Billy to take her out for her costume. And of course, you both agreed. Dora had you both wrapped around her finger.

You went to shop after shop, picking out little things you could use to handmake her a costume for that evening.

Billy even picked out a few things for the two of you to wear.

And when Halloween night came, the three of you were one of the first out trick or treating.

Dora out front, you and Billy behind, walking hand in hand as Dora filled her bucket with sweets.

And as was Taylor tradition, you all ended the night with blankets, treats and Peggy’s hot chocolate.

If Billy was asked, he would say you’d made his Halloween’s entirely perfect.

Ewanverse Taglist:

@legitalicat @thenameswinter99 @aemondsbabe @hoosbandewan

@anjelicawrites @aemondsbabygirl @sylasthegrim

@towriteloveontheirarms @thought--bubble @tumblin-theworldaway

@mysticalendings @arcielee @peachysunrize @multyfangirl

@blissfulphilospher @elaratyrell @kaelatargaryen

@vhagar-balerion-meraxes @errruvande

Please let me know if you want to be added/deleted!

[gaysindistress]

Fine Line

summary: Forgetting his first love is easier said than done as memories of his best girl are the only things that Steve thinks about during the days leading up to his wedding. Not once did he think of Peggy even as she walked down the aisle or when they were pronounced husband and wife or when she refused to let him go throughout the celebrations. He hoped that with time she would leave his every waking thought but time would prove to be a cruel mistress and would not grant him such luxuries. A decade and one failed marriage later, she still hasn’t left his mind.

pairing: Mob!Steve Rogers x Reader

warnings: angst, the feels

word count: 3.3k 

Tag list: @vickie5446 @cakesandtom​

Dial Drunk - part 2 & Cocaine Jesus - part 3

a/n: SURPRISE! I’m not fully back but I missed you guys so I’m giving you Fine Line early. Everything else will resume on 7/7 like planned. Also I’m torn between making this a series or keeping it as a one shot. What are y’all thinking? 

masterlist

disclaimer: credits to original creator/poster of image/gif. found on Google/Pinterest

Falling in love was supposed to be the greatest accomplishment for a person. The rush of emotion, the butterflies in one’s stomach, the flush when one’s lover is near, the feeling of complete joy and fulfillment. Falling in love was supposed to be the happiest moment in one’s life. It’s meant to last forever, the eternity that a couple walks on this earth. It’s meant to persevere through any and all hardships that life throws in their way and strengthen the bond they share. Love, true love in its purest form, is meant to be the greatest healing force that nature has to offer and will provide a couple with an endless supply of cures for any ailment. Love is the one thing that people seek out the most in any and all forms but the love that is found in the arms of a lover is the most sought-after. Love is meant to be a good thing until it is not. 

When love sours and turns into resentment, hatred, pain, and angst, it destroys. It becomes the ruination of once strong and powerful people. It becomes a weakness that anyone can expose, one that anyone can exploit when needed. When love fades away into nothingness, the hole that is left is permanent. It will never be filled, will never shrink, will never heal. The hole that loves leaves is a stark reminder of what was meant to be and what actually happened. It’s filled with what-ifs and theories of what could’ve been, questions left unanswered and will continue to go unanswered. When love is lost, the two lovers change and something new becomes of them. In the case of Steve Rogers, an entirely new man was forged from the fires of lost love. 

At barely 22, he was faced with a decision he’d hoped would never come. Being the son of a crime boss and the natural next pick to lead, it was his duty to pick a suitable partner to support him when his time came. Of course, some standards and stipulations accompanied his decision but he quickly learned that there was a predetermined pick already in place. He had no choice, no free will to decide his own future, and with that, he would have to leave behind the love he had known since they were children. 

“You can’t be serious, Dad,” Steve’s hands shook with anger as he held back the urge to smash something, anything at all. 

“The Carters are very good friends of ours and Peggy is a sweet girl. She’ll make for a lovely wife,” Joseph Rogers, the current leader of the Rogers crime syndicate, explains while not batting an eye at his son’s aggression and continues to eat the roast his wife made. 

“You can’t just force me into this. Mom,” he turns to Sarah who is sitting quietly at the kitchen table, “please there has to be something else, anything else.”

She only shakes her head, eyes downcast on the dark wood of the table where they’d been eating dinner as a family moments ago. Joseph spares her a very brief glance to ensure that she isn’t going to give in to her son’s pleas for help. 

“What’s done is done. You will marry Peggy Carter at the end of the week and that is the end of this conversation. I do not want to hear another word about it, am I clear?” The authority in his tone forces both his wife and son into a quick nod and ‘yes sir’ as the only other sounds that fill the room are those of him cutting the meat on his plate. 

Another stern look from his father has Steve returning to his seat but not without one last question, “What about…”

Joseph slams his hand on the table, rattling nearly everything and everyone as he cuts Steve off, “I said not another word and as for that girl, you will break it off and forget about her.”

Easier said than done as the thought of his best girl and leaving her are the only things that he thinks about during the days leading up to his wedding. Not once did he think of Peggy even as she walked down the aisle of the grand catholic church in her expensive white gown or when he briefly pressed his lips against hers as they were pronounced husband and wife or when she refused to let him go throughout the celebrations. Not once did Steve stop thinking of his true beloved his entire wedding day or night when he begrudgingly commenced their marriage. He hoped that with time she would leave his every waking thought but time would prove to be a cruel mistress and would not grant him such luxuries. 

She inhabited every corner of his mind for the next 15 years and nothing could shake the memory of her tear-stricken face when he told her that they were done. To spare her the real pain of the truth, he lied and said that he had been seeing Peggy the entire time they were together. Whether or not a cheating revelation was really better than an arranged marriage was lost on him and he regretted every word the moment they slipped out. Of course, she hadn’t believed him, he would never do something so horrible as cheating on her. She knew him better than that, she knew him better than he knew himself so lying to her would never be successful. Yet she accepted it and didn’t pry any further, knowing that if he was lying, there was clearly something far worse happening. 

He watched all love drain from her face and tears wet her skin when the lies filled her head. Everything they had built together over the last year had been ruined with two sentences; It’s over. I’ve been cheating on you with Peggy and we’re getting married. 

15 years later and only God knows he would be able to make up for those lost years and cruel parting words. Rain storms around him and soaked his thick black outer coat as he stands in front of the blue door. The thunder drowns out the sound of his blood pulsing in his ears as nerves start to take over him. Should he really be here? Would she open the door for him? Hell did she even live here anymore? All sorts of questions scatter any rational thought he has. However lucky for him, the door opens and reveals her standing there and everything completely leaves his brain at the sight. 

“What are you doing here?” her voice is calloused and devoid of all emotion as she stares up at him. 

“H… Hi,” he stutters, his chest constricting as it works to breathe. In and out, in and out. 

“What are you doing here?” she repeats. 

“Can I come in?”

“It depends. Is someone dead or are you just here to reminisce?”

His hand strays from his pocket to scratch the back of his neck, an old nervous habit his father had tried to break for years. 

“Either way, I don’t want you here so leave,” she says, going to close the door on him and everything that might blossom from this moment but the stray hand blocks that from happening. 

“Please, I just want to talk.”

“No. Just go,” she tries again to push on the wood alas she is no match for the strength he has built up over the years and she lets out a defeated sigh. 

“5 minutes. That’s all I ask.”

“You’re not going to take no for an answer, are you?”

The smile she had only dreamt of for years finally becomes real again as it stretches across his short stubble covered face, “Not a chance in hell, honey.”

The woman steps back but only enough for him to squeeze past and invade her no longer safe space. She knew when the sleek silver car pulled up that any sense of safety would go. His showing up at her front door made her a target for any and all of his enemies after she’d spent years trying to erase any memory or sign of him from her life. 

He glances around the room, taking in every detail it had to offer from the various books that lined the brick walls to the pictures of family and friends on the countertops. One, in particular, halts him. It’s a small polaroid from the first night they’d since each other since childhood tucked into the corner of a mirror that’s amidst the books. In it are two much younger versions of them smiling drunkenly with fireworks in the background. 

It had been the fourth of July the year he moved back from college. Sarah, his mother, insisted that they throw a late welcome home of July party since this was the first time in four years he had been back. The college had been an escape from the greed and foulness of his father’s world but his tranquility had to be shattered when he was presented with the prophecy of him taking the Rogers family business. Sure he knew it was going to happen but being faced with the reality of it proved to be too much for him. He’d spent the afternoon sneaking away to take shots in between his beers because he needed to be drunk to not remember a thing to survive this night. 

It was probably around the 5th secret shot when his sweet honey had shown up, stumbling upon him looking for the bathroom. There she stood in her cutoff Levi shorts and white tank top that showed off the red bikini top she’d worn to the lake earlier. He should’ve heard her coming down the hallway given that she was wearing flip-flops but the deafening effect of the alcohol must’ve kicked in. 

“Oh shit, I’m sorry,” she stutters, frozen with embarrassment, “I’m sorry but where is the bathroom?”

Coughing from nearly choking on his shot, he wipes at his mouth both physically and metaphorically, “Um it’s across the hall.”

“Thank you, Steve,” she whispers while closing the door. 

“Wait how do you know my name?” his voice halts her and she cringes when she hears it. 

“Oh uh… I guess you don’t recognize me,” she says, pushing her hair back, “I’m Y/N L/N.”

“Oh, OH,” it suddenly all clicks into place and he feels immensely guilty for all of the thoughts that had run through his head, “I should’ve known. It’s been uh… a crazy week.” “It’s all good. I’m sure your parents have paraded you around like a circus animal. Ya know, the prodigal son returns and all,” the sound of far-off laughter has her checking over her shoulder, “Anyways I should go. It was nice seeing you.”

“Yeah it was nice seeing you too,” he trails off, too caught up gawking at how short her cutoffs were and how if anyone dared to look her way, he’d been cut their eyes out. 

He’d made it his mission that night to watch over her and make sure that no one got close to her. Of course, this was unbeknownst to her and any attractive guy that showed up quickly disappeared, refusing to even go near her. About 4 guys in, she’d spotted the reason for her bad luck leaning against the sliding glass door with his arms crossed over his chest. Even though she couldn’t see his eyes from behind his sunglasses, she could tell by the way his jaw was set that his death glare had scared off any and all men that approached her. 

“Is there a reason why you’re ruining my chances at finding a guy?” she asked him as she came to stand at his side. 

He briefly glanced at her from the corner of his eye before readjusting his arms tighter over his chest, straining his white button-down.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he finally settled on but she doesn’t buy it for a second. 

“You know exactly what you’re doing and I want to know why.”

“And what do you think I’m doing?” “Being a bitch and not asking me out yourself so you’re resorting to giving everyone the stare-down.”

He scoffed at the suggestion but deep down he knew that she was right.

“The fact that you didn’t even try and defend yourself proves I’m right so are you going to man up or pout?”

“I’m not pouting,” he tried to defend himself but it was too late and she gives him an annoyed look, “Want to go inside?”

She pushed off the door, took his hand in hers, and dragged him inside, “I thought you’d never ask.”

She clears her throat, drawing his attention back to the present and he hesitantly looks at her through the mirror. She doesn’t look exactly pleased that he had seen the last photo she’d held onto but she doesn’t let her bothered attitude show and gestures for him to sit at the kitchen island. 

“Why are you here?” she asks him while getting things to make iced coffee. “I wanted to see how you were,” he lies, taking a seat in the tall wicker chair she’d thrifted a few months before. 

“You had 15 years to do that. Why are you really here?”

“We got divorced.”

She freezes for a moment but continues to make herself a cup and offers him one. He shakes his head, awaiting her response. 

“Oh?” is all that comes out of her as the rain drones on outside. 

“It had been a long time coming.”

“I’m sorry,” her body language tells another story that is the opposite of her words. The indifference is clear as she passes him a cup made to his exact preference anyways. Feeling his bright blue eyes burning holes into her skull, her own eyes flicker up and meet his, “You can’t expect me to care. You cheated on me with her and dumped me the same week you married her.”

“No, you’re right. I shouldn’t expect you to feel bad for me,” he says, taking the cup from her hands. 

“But here you are; showing up at my house and begging me to open the door to what? Talk? Talk about what? You didn’t come here just to tell me that so what is it?” she pries, leaning against the sink behind her to keep as much distance as she can between them. 

He takes a sip and savors the thought that she absentmindedly put into it before answering her question, “I wanted to set things straight.”

She merely raises an eyebrow but allows him to keep talking. 

“My dad arranged my marriage to Peggy and forced me to break it off with you. It was… I never…. I never cheated on you.”

Eyeing him from her place, she takes a long drink from her cup to think over his revelation. Half of her laughs at him and how stupid he must be if he thinks she is really going to believe that. The other part tenses at the idea that maybe they could have been together after all if they had run away like they planned. 

“I lied because I thought it would be easier than telling the truth but it made everything worse and I’m sorry, honey.” 

“Sorry doesn’t change anything regardless if you lied or not. Now you’ve said what you needed to, so leave,” she tells him, pointing at the door with the cup in her hand. He can see the scar on her hand from when she broke through a window after she’d locked herself out trying to sneak back in. A smile breaks onto his face which frustrates her even more. 

“Really, Steve, you need to go.”

“Is this it? Is this how it ends?”

“Are you being serious right now?”

He holds up his left hand in his defense and the carved-out space where his wedding band once sat causes her breath to hitch slightly. 

“I’ve spent the last 15 years thinking about YOU and what we could’ve had. You can’t tell me it hasn’t crossed your mind at least once?”

She drops her gaze to her cup, unable to look at him and the anguish clear on his beautiful features, “What does it matter? It didn’t happen. You got your perfect life and I had to make my own way.”

“You were always a part of what I wanted my life to look like and what I got with Peggy was all fake. I never wanted her or any of it for a second, I just wanted you,” the lull of his voice tempts her to look up again but if she does that, she’ll break. She can only imagine the way his brows pull together from stress or how his jaw clenches to stop the emotions from overtaking his senses. She can only imagine how he’d slowly blink with that sad smile of his when she would make eye contact or how he’d lower his voice to say her name in the softest tone he could manage. 

“Go.”

“Honey please look at me.”

“Go,” she tries a little louder, her grip on the cup growing tighter as she struggles to keep her composure.

“Look at me first.”

“Go,” she says one more time, “Go. Go. Go. Go. Go. Go. Go” 

Each go grows more and more desperate as her composure slips away from her and everything she’s suppressed from the night he left comes rushing to the surface as lava does when its volcano starts to erupt. The cup shatters under her death grip, sending pieces of glass and iced coffee everywhere. Neither of them flinch at the sound, having grown used to much worse noises thanks to his business. However, the dam within breaks, and tears slip down her nose as she spaces out on the wreckage of her anger at her feet. Steve quietly stands from the island and gathers her into his arms, pulling her away from the mess on the floor. She doesn’t fight it, wrapping her arms around his bicep as she cries into it. The comforting words he whispers into her hair go unheard but she can feel the rumble of his voice in her chest and that provides all the comfort her body craves. 

Feelings of fulfillment and joy fill him as he finally holds her in his arms again but it doesn’t last long when she starts to speak. 

“You shouldn’t have come here.”

“What?”

“You shouldn’t have come here.” He pulls away a little to look down at her, “I don’t understand.”

“You shouldn’t have come here,” she repeats for the third time, “Things were different when we were kids but we’re grown now and too much has happened. You’ve done too much, I’ve done too much for us to be together. This won’t work.”

“We weren’t kids though,” disbelief fills his voice with uncertainty causing it to wobble. 

“Yes we are,” she persists, “You were 22 and I was barely 18. We were stupid to think it was anything more than a fling.”

“A fling?” he drops his arms from her and takes a staggered step back as if she shoved him. 

She turns her back to him to spare herself the look of utter hurt he wears, “Please. Just go.”

Receding footsteps mix in with the rain as he does what she asked and leaves. Her front door slams shut and the shutter shakes the house as well as her. Dropping down to her knees on the sticky floor, the tears fall now like a tidal wave and the sobs rack through her body as she blindly tries to clean up the glass shards. 

Love is not meant to feel this way.

[buckets-and-trees]

Can you do a part 2 to "Tiny Vessels" where Steve regrets leaving Reader and was just confused and went back to her? I hate it when Steve leaves Reader for Peggy.🥺

You know what? Yes. I also hate that he went back. I half didn't even like writing Tiny Vessels, but I still remember feeling so compelled to write it the day that I did - I think I was punishing him and wanting to add even more layers to him having made a big mistake by going back in time, so... yeah.

AND LET ME BE CLEAR - I'M NOT VEXED YOU ASKED FOR THIS, NONNIE! I'm actually pretty touched that it resonated enough for you to ask for a follow up.

Title: Don't Forget You Were the One Who Characters/Pairings: Steve Rogers x gn!Reader Word Count: 1.3k

Content/Warnings: angst

Additional Notes: This will clock in as the second of the five offerings for my 300 follower request fest. This ask kicked around in my head, but then this morning it clicked, and I wrote it out in just a few hours, so if there are mistakes, it was the rush of writing. The original was a one-day write, and so I guess it's fitting that this one was, too. And as the original was also heavily influenced by a song, I listened to Wild Way by Tori Amos for some of the inspo on this.

Your breath caught at the sight of him standing next to your door, and you came to an immediate halt.

“Hey,” he said, pushing off from where he’d been leaning against the wall, a forced and uneasy smile on his face.

Good, you thought, he shouldn’t feel comfortable.

As you approached and unlocked the door, he didn’t make any other moves to touch or greet you, and you were glad he had enough sense for that. You were glad for the moment of putting your keys in the lock and turning it open to have your face hidden from him so you could bite your lip in frustration. And fear. You desperately worked to keep your heart from racing, knowing he’d be able to hear your heartbeat if he tried – and you knew he would be hyper focused on every sound, movement, and reaction.

You entered your home and left the door open for him to follow you inside. You dropped your purse and keys on the table next to your entry and kept walking. You heard him slowly close the door behind him.

“So, when did you get back?” You asked, knowing he would be waiting for you to speak before pressing you into any further conversation.

“No small talk,” he murmured. You turned to face him, a frown on your face. “No, of course not. Um, today. Only an hour or two ago.”

You crossed your arms and were quiet for another few moments.

“Why did you come here, Steve?” You finally asked.

“You know why–”

You cut him off with a scoffing noise. “I don’t know why.”

“You know in my letter I said– “

“I didn’t read it,” you interrupted again.

He drew his head back sharply, blinking at you. “You didn’t – didn’t Bucky give you – “

“You left without a word, and thought I would want to read a letter you gave to Bucky to give to me? You didn’t get to do that to me.”

He dropped his gaze and put his hands in his pockets. “Okay, that wasn’t fair.”

“It was cowardly.”

You saw the effect those words had on him. You didn’t care that they cut him to the core. He deserved it after carving your heart out and crushing it without a care.  

“Did you think you could leave, walk around in whatever yesteryear with Peggy Carter for ten months, change your mind, and just come back and think I’d be waiting and ready to welcome you back into my arms?”

“No,” he took a few steps toward you, looking back into your eyes again, “I knew it wouldn’t be that easy, and I didn’t walk around in the past for ten months. I wasn’t there a full two days before I was trying to come back. It took time to hunt down the right people and technology, but it wasn’t even a full two months that I saw there before I got out.”

“Wait, so… you were only there for less than two months but you let ten months pass here for your time to reappear here?”

“I know that scientifically I could come right back, but I also knew I left and I didn’t deserve to come back and act like I hadn’t left.”

“No, Steve!” you dropped your head. “This is what was wrong with us before, only I didn’t know it back then because I was too caught up in all the Captain America aura about you. I couldn’t believe someone like you would be with someone like me,” Steve opened his mouth to say something, but you held your hand up, raised your head back up and kept talking, “but you were even worse. You didn’t think you deserved love or happiness at all. I was stunned by every bit of us getting together, it felt like a stupid modern fairytale in the middle of everything else that was awful. After a while I even started to believe it myself, thought maybe I was good for you even, but not good enough for you to stay in the end, and now you’re telling me you thought you had to do even more time to make up for leaving?”

Steve sighed, and you could feel the waves of ache radiating off him, matching the ache in your own chest.

“You were too good for the failure I thought I was,” he started to explain. “I knew it wasn’t just me who failed in defeating Thanos, but it didn’t make me feel like any less of a failure, and every day I was living a life full of reminders of how much we lost. Until you. I started to build something again after you.”

“Then why did you leave?” the question burst from the part of your heart where everything still felt like scorched earth.

Steve sighed. “In the letter – “

“You get to tell me to my face, Steve Rogers.”

He nodded. “We brought back half the universe, but I still felt like a failure because we lost Tony and Nat. I couldn’t face it. But when I got back there, I couldn’t shake how vile and cheap it was to run away, and the only one I wanted to talk to about it – about fixing the snap, about losing Nat and Tony, about leaving this time for the past, about trying to get back to the future – I only wanted to talk to you.”

He took another step toward you, but you took a half a step back.

“That was a good speech,” you said, “but Steve…”

Your shoulders softened, and he stepped forward again. He tentatively reached out, took your hand, and you looked down at them.

“It can’t be just a good speech,” he said. “I need it to be the best speech of my life.”

You couldn’t hold back the overwhelming battle of emotions anymore, and tears started falling down your cheeks. You heart yearned to let him right back in, and yet it also wanted to banish him forever.

His other hand came up to brush some of your quiet tears away with his thumb.

“I hate you so much right now, Steve,” you cried while not being able to resist leaning into the palm of his hand. “I had to.”

“I deserve it, but I want to deserve you at some point. I didn’t expect to come back and be welcomed into your arms, I expected to come back and earn the right to wrap my arms around you again.”

“God damn you, Steve Rogers. I want to tell you yes, but I can’t promise you anything any time soon.”

“I know,” he said, closing the gap between you and pressing his forehead down to yours.

“No,” you whispered, and put a hand on his chest – not to push him away, but to at least hold him from coming any closer. “You might think you know,” you your voice was firm but quiet, “but I don’t think you do. I’m hearing what you’ve said. It means everything that you said you’ve come back for me, but the man I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life with still smashed my heart and left me alone for almost a year.”

Steve didn’t say anything immediately, only continued to stroke his thumb over your cheek, hold your hand, and keep his forehead pressed against yours for a few minutes. Everything still hurt, but it was a balm for the moment.

Finally, he spoke. “Unless you tell me to go, I’m never leaving again. You’re my end game, as long as you need, whatever it takes. I will wait – patiently, but with no pressure and no expectations.”

Then you let the silence fill the space between you.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “And I love you.”

“For now, just kiss me once.”

He did not hesitate, capturing your lips in the kiss he’d been desperate to have for far too long and not knowing when he would get to kiss you again.

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

I do not do tag lists, but FOLLOW @buckets-and-stories and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS to be updated any time I publish a new work!

[tenderjock]

like the moon moves the tides [agent carter werewolf au]

part i. hackles raised

It takes Peggy approximately thirty seconds to sniff out the other wolf in the SSR office.

It’s definitely a him, not one of the phone girls or an odd female assistant or interviewee. And it’s someone who is a frequent fixture of this building. The office smells of him, like he’s been marking territory – not literally, she hopes, since the last thing Peggy wants to deal with is a wolf that thinks it’s acceptable to piss on walls. He smells young. There’s something almost, well, not hostile, exactly, but combative about the scent.

She ignores the comments from the human men, appreciative or mocking or both, and places her briefcase down on the desk Chief Dooley had indicated was for her. It’s way in the back, across from the table with a paper shredder and pencil sharpener and farthest away from the commissary.

Colonel Phillips had told her, when he’d given the recommendation, that the Howlies had been the exception rather than the rule in the SSR. Dooley knows she’s a wolf, but part of her contract involves not telling anyone else in the office. Humans may know about their furry cousins, but even after the war, when whole packs mixed in battalions alongside humans, there was a fair amount of discomfort between the two races.

Peggy hadn’t particularly expected to find another one of her kind among these men in New York. It’s no big surprise that the other men are already dismissive of her on day one; she’s worked with humans before. It’s no surprise she’s been relegated to a secretary role. It’s no surprise, it’s just – frustrating.

A clunky, stepping sort of noise catches her attention. Peggy glances up without moving her head, and sees the bottom half of a man using a crutch to walk. He stops at her desk.

She finds herself resisting the urge to growl reflexively. It’s not this poor fellow’s fault that she’s in a new environment, without allies and quite literally cornered. Swallowing the aggression, she looks up.

He’s handsome enough, she notes, with dark curls that are fighting a liberal application of pomade and a shy, slightly awkward smile. He extends a hand, oblivious or uncaring of the way half the office is staring at them.

“Hey there,” he says, tone friendly. Peggy inhales subtly; there’s a hint of arousal there, but not too much, no more than would be expected from a human man seeing an attractive woman in any casual context. More than anything, he smells hopeful, anticipatory, eager to please. “Daniel Sousa. Welcome to the team.”

Someone snickers and it’s like a light has been turned on in Peggy’s head. She’s lived in packs her whole life, first her family and then the Howlies; human hierarchies aren’t so different. Of course, the crippled man would be at the very bottom of the office’s pecking order. Her existence just boosted him one step further up the ladder.

At least he’s being polite about it. Without looking at the snickerer, she takes his hand and gives it a firm shake.

“Peggy Carter,” she says. “I appreciate it.”

Sousa doesn’t linger, just gives her one last smile and a nod and crutches back to his desk, which is a few in front of hers. She watches him go, thinking, then starts to unpack her things and start work. Putting away her meager belongings – a few fountain pens, a notebook and an emergency, backup lipstick – doesn’t take much time. After a few moments, Peggy supposes she cannot put off the inevitable any longer, and she turns to the stack of reports that Dooley wanted her to retype and file.

As she’s bending over the first file, the male wolf steps into the room.

Peggy can’t help it. Her head snaps up. The wolf is in the doorway leading into the bullpen, stock still, nostrils flared. The whites of his eyes are showing all the way around, and there’s a hot, heady flare of adrenaline-fearsubmission-anger.

Peggy stares at him. He stares back. No one else in the office seems to pay them any mind – if this were a wolfpack, Peggy thinks, people would be circling for the fight. She doesn’t stand up, because that’s just going to make a young, male wolf who is unsure of his place angrier and more volatile.

The scent marking makes more sense, now. He’s a submissive kind, unused to work around humans, perhaps? Overcompensating for it, and he’s taking her as a threat rather than as a potential friend.

Even though it takes every ounce of willpower she has to stay in her seat, to stay woman-shaped, to not bare her teeth and snarl, Peggy remains where she is, watching the wolf as he approaches her. His posture is casual, now, slouching with his hands in his pockets, but his scent is still writhing with emotion.

He comes to a stop at the end of her desk and leans a hip against it. (Peggy can’t help herself. She flashes a quick hint of fang. He only smirks.) She looks up at him, eyes narrowed.

“Didn’t realize Dooley was getting us a typist,” he says, sounding smug. At least, his tone sounds it; his blood pressure smells like it’s through the roof and he’s sweating. His fingernails are sharper and a touch longer than they should be, and his pupils are glinting yellow.

Here’s the thing: if Peggy were any other female wolf – or even quite a few male wolves – she would be finding herself defensive, intimidated even. But she’s fought in battles most of the men here would have no words for, and her last pack had been led by a person that could tear this wolf apart with his bare, human hands. She’s certainly not going to back down from this pup, but she’s not going to pick a fight on her first day of work, either.

“Agent Margaret Carter,” she replies rather sternly. “I’m a transfer from the European field office.”

The claws slowly sink back under his skin. His scent settles, a little, but not as much as Peggy would like it to. “Right,” he says. “I’m Agent – ” the word is mocking “ – Jack Thompson. There’s some more filing that needs to be done on the Skaneateles case. But since you look all settled in, how’s about refilling the coffee pot? Or do they not do coffee in Europe?”

She glares at him, well aware that there’s nothing she can do. Thompson’s well aware of it too, judging by the self-satisfied grin on his face.

“Thanks, Marge,” he says over his shoulder, and saunters away, a definite tinge of amusement in his scent. Peggy clenches her hands, with their perfectly manicured nails that she was loath to ruin scraping his blond hair off of his head, into fists.

So much for having an ally among all these men. She consciously ungrits her fangs, and gets up to make some coffee.

[questionableratatouille00]

𝕺𝖚𝖙 𝖔𝖋 𝕿𝖎𝖒𝖊

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader

Summary: Whenever Steve was sick before the serum, you were there for him. But all these decades later, he finds just how much time he wasted back then.

Note: This is my submission for day one (drugging/sick/poisoned) of @ailesswhumptober! Does this count as whump? Probably not! Either way, I really wanted to be able to put something out, so here we are!

Warnings: Sickness, technically main character death (??), mention of medicine.

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

ʙʀᴏᴏᴋʟʏɴ, 1930ꜱ

“For fuck’s sake, Steve. You’re sick. Now sit your ass down.” Bucky sighed, rubbing his hand over his face. The three of you, you, Bucky, and Steve, had been a trio since practically birth. You’d helped each other through a lot. Bucky always had his sights set on some beautiful lady, and your sights were set on Steve. You know, if he’d notice it. 

“‘M not sick.” Steve slurred out, and you resisted the urge to laugh. His fever was high, and the pain medication only amplified the effects.

“Steve, you’re burning up and shivering at the same time. Just..at least sit on the couch.” You attempted to bargain with him. “Please? For me?”

“Fine.” He grumbled, plopping down on the couch. You glanced at Bucky, who was looking at you. Bucky shrugged slightly, not sure what to do. 

“Thanks. Buck’s gonna go get you some soup, okay?” You sat down next to your smaller friend as Bucky walked a few steps away to the kitchen.

“M’kay.” Steve yawned. 

“Are you feeling better? At least, compared to earlier?”

He nodded, still a bit loopy. Bucky came back with a bowl of soup, setting it down on the coffee table. “Eat up, punk.”

After he finished eating, you walked him to his bed, hoping that he wouldn't resist. And he didn’t, opting to quietly lay down. You sat on the edge of the bed, staring into his beautiful blue eyes.

“Stay?” He asked quietly, his small and ice-cold fingers finding their way to yours. 

“Course I will, Steve.” Rubbing circles into the back of his hand with your thumbs, you let out a sigh. “I always will.” 

He smiled at that. “I like you a lot, Y/n.” 

“I like you too. A lot.” 

He drifted off to sleep, his hand tucked in yours.

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

ɴᴇᴡ ʏᴏʀᴋ ᴄɪᴛʏ, 2016

Steve’s eyes drifted away from his notebook at the faint sound of sneezing. A younger couple, maybe in their early twenties, walked hand-in-hand down the street. A woman and a man, the man significantly smaller than the woman. Steve noticed the way he looked at her, eyes filled with love and admiration. Her eyes were bright and excited, and she looked at him every so often as she talked about something. 

They were both dressed in their cold weather clothing, scarves and gloves and hats and jackets. Steve smiled softly, imagining you like that. 

The man coughed, more of a wheezing, painful sound. Steve winced. He didn’t have to imagine himself like that. He could remember it clearly, the struggle to breathe, his throat feeling like it had been clawed by a raccoon. 

He missed you. He misses you every day. He was lucky to have Bucky back, and he was grateful. But that didn’t stop him from wanting you. Your kind smile, your gentle gaze. The way you made him feel less…less. 

But you weren’t coming back. He was sure of it. Hell, he’d found your gravestone. You’d died unmarried, with no children. You’d become a nurse at a children’s hospital, which he'd found out from Natasha searching for information about you online.

Steve felt a pang of sorrow as he watched the couple walk farther down the street. With them, it felt like his past and everything he knew was walking away too. He wished he’d had more time to spend with you, to tell you how he’d really felt about you back then. He yearned for you, to be able to take back all of those times where he could’ve kissed you, yet didn’t. Before he knew it, he’d run out of time to spend with you. He couldn’t replace you. Not with Sharon, or Natasha, or Sam, or even Peggy. In a world full of people, people who idolized and adored him, people who dedicated their lives to collecting his trading cards, he still felt alone. 

He truly was a man out of time.

[littlereyofsunlight]

I'm late!

Sorry, @doctorhelena for the belated Steggy Secret Santa gift! I'm still working on the rest, but I've got the beginning polished up and ready to share ...

I loved receiving your letter to @steggyfanevents/Santa: "here are some general ideas of things I particularly like (applicable to either fanfic or fanart!): - stories (or fanart) set during the war - AUs with Steve present during the Agent Carter timeframe - AUs in general - friendship and found family - secret relationships, but also Peggy and Steve getting teased about each other - shared adventure, working together to achieve a goal - banter - Peggy being badass and Steve loving it - hijinks and terrible ideas - the Howling Commandos, Howard, Phillips, the Jarvises, Angie, Rose, Natasha, Bucky, Sam, Tony, Pepper, Thor - Bernard Stark, Howard's flamingo"

I had a lot of fun pulling a few of these elements together to come up with this story. Hope you enjoy!

Peggy bit the inside of her cheek as they arrived at Howard’s Beverly Hills home. He'd assured them of their privacy when he’d offered this house as a place to lay low while the news of Steve’s return blew over. It was their best option—she just hoped this really was the place to wait it out.

The driver handed over their bags to Steve, who took them with a warm smile, despite his obvious exhaustion. Peggy noted the way weariness seemed to have settled into the laugh lines at his eyes, the crease on his forehead that never quite went away now, the perpetual, if slight, downturn his mouth had. She shook herself from her reverie, reminding her wandering, maudlin thoughts that she’d never thought she’d get to see his face again, let alone watch him age. 

She rubbed at the simple band on her left ring finger. While Steve’s miraculous return had certainly caused a stir, it was the news of the wedding that had turned the press rabid.

Peggy looked at Steve. Steve looked at Peggy. There was, not for the first time since he’d returned, the feeling of uncomfortable tension between them. “Well,” Steve said, his voice congenial, “I’m fifty-percent convinced he’s not going to out us.”

Peggy nodded. “I might go as high as seventy-five percent, just knowing how well Howard pays.” 

“He sure is doing us some favor.” Peggy found his tone inscrutable. This was a new development, since his return. The small lines on his face and, sometimes, the wrong-footed feeling that Steve was referencing something from where—when—he came from.

She shifted her purse strap higher on her shoulder. The California sun was hot, and Steve’s suit hadn't fared well on the transcontinental flight. She didn’t feel particularly fresh, herself. “Shall we go in?”

He inclined his head. “I take it you know the way.”

Biting back the sharp retort that flew into her head—this wasn’t the same callow Steve who’d suggested fondue was some kind of lewd act, after all—Peggy was acutely aware of Steve behind her as she strode up the front walk to Howard’s ridiculous mansion. The lawn was just as green and well-manicured as when she’d last been, two years ago. Peggy supposed Howard thought stuccoed walls and wrought iron details made the place stately, but she’d always found it cozy, despite its size. And of course, the pool made it especially appealing. She looked back at Steve—at her new husband—and thought idly of just how secluded the pool really was. She felt a flush come over her that she couldn’t blame entirely on the heat.

“Howard played host when I was here working a case with …” She fumbled for words as she reached the front door and dug into her purse for the key Jarvis had arranged to have messengered to her back in D.C. “Ahem, well … there was a scientist, I’m not sure I’ve had the chance to tell you about this one.” 

Peggy’s mind raced. What exactly was she going to tell him in this moment about the escapade with Whitney Frost? Her flirtation with Jason Wilkes? Her dalliance with Daniel? Not exactly honeymoon talk. “Well, another time,” she finished inadequately, feeling suddenly quite tired. Opening the door, she stepped inside. The heat of the day hadn’t touched the cool tile entryway, and she sighed in relief. Peggy ushered Steve in after her and, with a final look back at the expanse of lawn and the eight-foot wall beyond it that encircled the property, she firmly shut the door and locked it.

“Alone at last,” she said, with a genuine smile for her new husband.

***

Steve took in the immaculate Spanish Colonial Revival details of Howard’s house. He’d visited Tony’s home in Malibu, once, before he rebuilt it. The setting had been spectacular, and the house had certainly gone out of its way to provide unobstructed views of the ocean, but all that glass and space had left it feeling empty. 

Now, Steve wondered if it had been a reaction to this place and to Howard’s preferred style. There was dark, ornate woodwork, plush, heavy furniture and warm colors everywhere Steve’s eye landed. Light spilled into the vestibule from arched windows stretching above the front door. The tiles were an inviting orange, with a Moroccan motif bordering the floor. A staircase of dark risers and wrought iron lead, Steve presumed, to the bedrooms on the second floor. Beyond the stairs was a hallway into the back of the house, and to the left of the foyer Steve saw a study filled with bookcases and leather club chairs. 

He suddenly became aware of Peggy’s eyes on him, her expression expectant. “Nice place,” he observed blandly. She raised an eyebrow, and he noticed, not for the first time today, how impeccably turned out she was. Her honeymoon suit crisply pressed, hat set just so, red, red lipstick looking freshly applied even with the transcontinental flight they’d boarded that morning. Steve knew his jacket was creased to hell and his collar had lost its starch—he was out of practice keeping his clothes up to this time’s standards, that was very clear. 

And, he realized through his musings, there was a frown beginning on his wife’s incredibly beautiful face.

Steve reached out a hand, pulled her in close. “Did you say something about being alone?”

He was relieved when she melted against him immediately, her hand coming up to cup his cheek. “One hears that’s how newlyweds are supposed to spend their time, alone together,” she teased, her eyes soft as she looked at him. He’d been flagging on the drive from the airport, looking forward to a nap when they arrived. But now he couldn’t resist kissing her, pressing her fully against him, reveling in how her lush curves fit against his body. 

“Good thing I cleared my schedule,” he murmured as they broke apart. She removed her hat and set it down on a table just to the side of the door. He let his hand roam down her shapely backside, knowing there were layers of nylon slip and girdle beneath the lightweight wool of her skirt. Maybe a nap could wait. Would she let him peel her out of each layer slowly this time? 

Peggy rewarded him with a laugh before she leaned up to kiss him again. “I have a few items to add to your itinerary, darling.”  

He wasn’t sure how long they spent, pressed against the door. Long enough for the shadows to change, lengthening over the stairs. Peggy’s stomach rumbled and Steve laughed. “Some things never change,” he said, a smirk on his face. 

“Do people in the future not require nourishment at regular intervals?” Peggy quipped, smoothing her skirt back down. “If I’m hungry, I know you’re famished,” she said.

Steve dragged her hem back up a few inches. “I could eat.”

Peggy arched an eyebrow at him, her hand around his wrist. “Focus, darling.”

“I would be very focused.” He saw how her eyes darkened and her breath came just a bit quicker. He brushed the tips of his fingers against her thigh, keeping his touch light. 

Her grip tightened and she exhaled. “Steve.”

He angled his head and let his lips graze the shell of her ear. “Peg.”

She sighed again, turning her head to kiss him firmly. “Lunch first.” She punctuated the imperative with a quick nip at his bottom lip. 

“Is that an order?” he teased, chasing her lips as she pulled away.

Her eyes sparked at him as she put both hands on his chest. “It is indeed, Captain.” She stepped back out of his arms. “But if you find us provisions, you have leave to resume your mission after your wife’s been satisfied.”

Heat spread through his chest at that word. His wife. He couldn’t keep the goofy smile from taking over his face, even as he sassed back at her, “I’ve been trying to satisfy my wife this whole time, Mrs. Rogers.”

Peggy laughed as she took up her small suitcase, shaking her head with a smile that echoed his. “I’ll go freshen up. The kitchen’s back through there, and I expect Ana Jarvis will have left plenty in the larder.” 

“Ma’am, yes ma’am.” He resisted the urge to pinch himself as he watched her walk up the stairs. All the ways he’d struggled with the decision to find her, after everything that had happened to him—he’d nearly talked himself out of even trying to have this a dozen times. But somehow, Steve was here, with Peggy, and everything felt so right. 

Even if they were technically on the run from the press.

Steve ventured to the back of the house, where the well-appointed kitchen was indeed stocked with food. Steve couldn’t remember if he’d ever learned when frozen french fries had been invented, but apparently it was before 1949. There was a box of those plus a few cans of Minute Maid concentrate in the freezer, along with a wealth of tupperware, all labeled in neat Palmer script with the contents and instructions for thawing and reheating. Steve whistled at the display and selected a stew to thaw for dinner later that evening. 

There was a note taped to the fridge, and Steve scanned it quickly.

Peggy, my dear—

I’m desolate that I cannot offer you my heartfelt congratulations in person, and that my inspection of your illustrious gentleman will have to wait until Edwin and I return from our visit. Please help yourself to anything; I have arranged for more groceries to be delivered on Tuesday. 

E says I must warn you that Bernard is suffering from some tropical malaise. But as sardines seem to cheer him up, I admit to being skeptical of my husband’s theory.

Affectionately yours,

Ana

Steve couldn’t remember who Bernard was supposed to be. But Howard had assured them both that his staff would give them their privacy while they stayed at his home, so Steve assumed the fellow would have to get his sardines elsewhere. 

In the fridge, Steve found basic sandwich supplies. For his part, he was still a tiny bit sad that sriracha wasn’t yet a staple in American cupboards. Thinking of sriracha made him think of being on the run with Sam and Nat. Instead of shoving the memory aside, he let it wash over him. Two years of running that grief group had been good for many things, of course. But certainly, an unintended benefit was how it had prepared him to leave it all behind and return to Peggy. 

Steve took the stairs two at a time, balancing the sandwiches, two glasses of water and a package of Oreos in his hands. He found Peggy down the wide hall, in a spacious bedroom with a private attached bathroom and a Juliet balcony overlooking Howard’s tree-filled side yard. She was still occupied in the bathroom, so Steve set down the food on one of the nightstands and pulled the inner lace curtains closed over the inset windows in the balcony doors, leaving the heavy velvet drapes open. The diffuse afternoon light that filtered through turned the room a cozy orange. By the time Peggy was done, he’d unpacked their suitcases into the closet and dresser provided, and stowed the bags underneath the giant four-poster bed. 

She’d changed out of her suit entirely and had on her robe, her hair unpinned and falling softly to her shoulders in mahogany waves. “Sandwiches!” she said, and clambered up onto the bed beside him. 

“Oreos, too,” he pointed out, delighted at her excitement over his extremely basic offering. “You were right about Mrs. Jarvis keeping the kitchen stocked. Which reminds me,” he fished the note out of his trousers pocket, “she left this for you.”

***

Peggy read the note quickly, mouth full of roast beef, and then tucked it under the water on the nightstand. Ana must have dictated it, as it wasn’t in her handwriting and she and Jarvis were on a trip to Europe, visiting cousins of Ana’s who had settled in the Netherlands after the war. 

Steve had eaten a sandwich of his own, as well as several chocolate biscuits, and then he’d gotten up to hang his own suit and change into pajama pants as Peggy finished her own meal. Though it was three hours later by her internal clock, Peggy felt a bit of a thrill to be in her nightclothes in the daylight. She watched as the muscles beneath his white undershirt flexed with his movements, his physique somehow even more impressive now than when he’d first gone through the transformation of Project Rebirth. Peggy was grateful for all that had transpired to bring Steve back to her. She was grateful that the man he was now was with her in this time. She felt suddenly such a swell of overpowering love for him, she was happy to be sitting down as it hit. “Steve,” she managed, hearing the emotion thick in her voice.

He turned back to her, concern clear on his face. “Peg?”

She shook her head, smiling through the rush of feeling. She aimed for sultry when she spoke and tossed her hair behind her shoulders. “You have leave to resume your mission at your leisure.” She toyed with the tie on her robe. 

Immediately, his eyes darkened and the concerned dip of his brows smoothed over. A hint of a smile played at the corner of his mouth. “Is that so?” Peggy nodded, unknotting her robe so she could let the neckline fall open. As Steve realized she had nothing on underneath, she watched his breath deepen and his hands clench at the suit he still held. “Remind me where we were?” he teased.

Peggy licked her lips eagerly. “I seem to recall you promised satisfaction.”

Steve tossed the suit behind him, ensuring it would truly need a thorough pressing before he could wear it again. He prowled back towards the bed. “Did you have anything particular in mind?—”

Before Steve had even finished the question, there was a loud crash on the balcony, accompanied by a sound Peggy could only describe as a goose attacking a chalkboard. Steve immediately closed the distance between them, pulling Peggy off the bed and positioning her behind him. The sound came again, this time accompanied by some shuffling and … flapping? 

Peggy slapped a hand to her forehead. “Bernard!”

[space-helen]

Shenanigans

Words: 812

Pairing: Jack Thompson x Reader

A/N: I FORGOT HOW MUCH I LOVE THIS MAN OMG!

Request: Hey! Can I send in a request? Maybe Jack Thompson or Captain Kirk with the prompt "Of course we're best friends. No one else would put up with our shenanigans."? No worries if you're not feeling it! Hope you're doing wonderful! - @captainsophiestark

______________________

“Remind me why we’re here again?” Jack’s voice came from beside you.

“To work?” you replied as you shifted in the car seat.

“This is the most boring stakeout I’ve ever been on.”

“Are you calling me boring?” you joked, turning towards him.

“The company isn’t boring but the stakeout is.” he re-phrased “Happy now?”

“You know me. Of course I am.” you fixed your eyes back on the building in front of you “How about we just go inside?”

“Y/N, no.”

“Why? We’re clearly getting so much information from here.” you said sarcastically.

“And how would we go inside? What would we even do?”

“We could pretend to be looking for directions. Look.” you pulled out a map from the glove compartment “We can just say we’re looking for somewhere random on the map and hope they give us directions.”

“You forget they’ve seen me before.”

“Just shove some sunglasses on and take off your jacket. Perfect disguise.”

The man rolled his eyes “How the hell are we best friends?”

“No one else would put up with our shenanigans so we have each other.”

“Our shenanigans huh? Please as if I contribute-”

“Remember when it was your idea to prank the whole office with the out of date milk-”

“Alright, alright.” he tried to shush you with a smile on his face “but you agreed to help me.” he pointed his finger at you playfully.

“That’s what I mean, our shenanigans. We couldn’t really do it without each other.”

“How did we even end up friends in the first place?” he questioned how it all started but soon remembered. “That’s right, you hated me.”

“No, I’m pretty sure that you hated me. You couldn’t stand to be in the same room as me. Saw me as dirt, the same way you first reacted to Peggy.”

“I’ve never seen you as dirt. It just took me way longer than it should have to realise that women can work just as well, or even better than men in this sort of work.”

“Thanks Jack, you’re a real charmer there.”

“At least I’m admitting I was wrong.” he nudged you slightly “That’s a big one for me.”

“I suppose.” you laughed remembering the early days “then we worked together a bunch and practically became inseparable.” 

“I wouldn’t change it for the world. I think you’re probably one of the best colleagues I’ve worked with.”

“Alright, no need to go that far Chief Thompson. That’d be favoritism in the workplace.”

“I think they already know we're friends Y/N.God some of them even think we’re something more.”

You genuinely laughed “I knew it was only a matter of time. Hey why can’t a man and woman be friends without people assuming they’re dating each other? If it were two men or two women they wouldn’t bat an eyelid.”

“I suppose it’s because they can’t see themselves being friends with the opposite sex without anything else happening.”

“Gross.” you huffed.

There was a silence as the two of you watched the building but Jack was the first to break it. “How about we grab dinner?”

“Are you asking me on a date!”

“Y/N, god no. I’m just hungry alright? Would it even be that bad if I did?”

“Did you not just hear our last conversation?” 

“I did alright. I like you Y/N but we’re friends.” he was panicking, he did like you slightly more than a friend sometimes but to him your friendship was more important and he’d never want to do anything to jeopardize it. 

“Best friends I think you’d find.” you smiled at the man sincerely, you liked the man, of course you how could you not? There had been nights the two of you had been in the office late and you’d fallen asleep and he’d tucked you up. He’d saved your life on multiple occasions and you’d saved his. He’d also been very protective of you when other men had made seedy moves on you. Honestly, you’d love to be in a relationship with him and it was probably the reason none of your relationships had worked out so far.

“We can go for food, or a date or whatever if we get this stakeout over and done with sooner rather than later.” you offered.

His heart bounced out of his chest. What did you just say? “How about we just go inside then? Get this over with?”

“I love the change of heart.” you passed the man his sunglasses and gave him a tap on the shoulder before getting out of the car. 

He scrambled out and flung his jacket from his body frantically before popping the glasses on and linking his arm with yours. “Let's go ask for directions darling.”

You laughed, you had to admit you did love undercover work with him “Sure thing.”

Tag List: (open)

Marvel: @coffeeandcrimeshows @spunky-89 @heyitsaloy @captainsophiestark

[testingthewatersss]

I never lost him Trigger warnings for PTSD, mentions of war, torture,  etc. Just unapologetic cuddling and comfort ft. Steve Rodgers. Bucky Barnes x F Reader Chapter 8 2560 words fluff, angst, comfort. 18+ MDNI Post TWS Steve realises that he's not the only one looking for Sargent Barnes. Reader is Tony’s sister, a non-enhanced shield agent who recently resurfaced.

“That went great” Y/N says instantly, "Well done, Buck"

The praise washes over him like water, soothing the frayed edges of his soul like a balm.

He relishes in the soft swell of affection for a moment, nuzzling down into her embrace until he feels like he might be able to speak without his voice cracking;

“‘days not over yet, doll” he murmurs eventually, “’s only the afternoon— still plenty of time for me to ruin’ it”

“Don’t be ridiculous” she counters, “You’re here, with me— there’s no way you could ruin anything.”

He scoffs, holding onto her a little bit tighter.

Y/N can feel the way he’s clinging onto her waist with both of his hands, clutching onto her t-shirt like a child who’s afraid of being abandoned.

Her heart is aching, behind her ribs. He’s clearly trying to catch up with the reality of everything that’s just transpired, and she doesn’t really know if she can do anything to help.

Holding him seems to be doing something, at least.

So, she decides to just keep doing that, stroking circles across the back of his ribs.

“I can’t believe he went to the deli dressed like that” she murmurs, “I bet it makes the news.”

He smiles a little at that, small and hidden against her shoulder.

“He… he wasn’t wearin’ his dog tag”

That hurts.

It hurts more than she’d have expected it too.

“I asked him where it was” she tells him, “He says he lost it, y’know? In the ice”

That sounds reasonable, he’d been prepared for a similar answer, but, she doesn’t sound sure. There’s something about her tone, that makes him furrow his brow;

“You don’t think he did?”

“I might be wrong” she sighs, “but, I could’ve sworn I saw it in one of Peg’s old boxes”

It’s why I recognised yours so quickly, she thinks.

“If… If it was in Peggy’s stuff, maybe he did lose it, but she, she found it?”

“Maybe” Y/N agrees, “Or maybe I never saw it at all”

‘Excuse me, boss’ FRIDAY inserts politely, ‘But Bucky is right, I can confirm that when Captain Rodgers was first brought to SHEILD headquarters he was booked in, and his dog tag was noted along with his compass and original suit in the documentation regarding his personal belongings.’

That catches her attention, she tilts her head and hums,

“Was… was he awake when you brought him here?”

‘No’ FRIDAY replies, ‘He remained frozen until our medical officers felt confident in their ability to bring him round without complication’

“But he had it on him when he arrived?” Y/N cuts in, wanting to clarify, “Do you have any record about where it went?”

‘Yes, boss.’ the AI agrees, ‘And whilst there is no official mention of the article after that initial reference, I can use the archived security footage to speculate that Agent Carter may have retrieved it from him during one of her regular visits.’

Oh—

“Well there we go…” Y/N murmurs, stroking Bucky’s back again, “…mystery solved.”

“She…” Bucky says, clearing his throat, “… Y’think she took it?”

“Probably” she sighs, “she loved him, it’s not a stretch to think she’d want to try and keep a piece of him close, ‘specially… ‘specially when she realised that he probably wouldn’t be wakin’ up any time soon.”

Bucky thinks that’s awfully sad.

Sometimes he forgets how unfair fate was to Steve. He forgets that it wasn’t just him who lost everything in ice.

“I think we should get it back to him, don’t you?”

Y/N’s voice makes his head lift up, away from the crook of neck.

He’s starring at her, trying to read wether or not she’s being serious.

“You… you think we can?”

“Of course we can” she chuckles, stroking his cheek, “Baby, if Peggy kept it then it’s here— After she died a lot of her stuff was archived, y’know, for security— Tony and Sharon agreed that the tower was the best place for her personal belongings, since it’s real easy to protect, and, if I saw it before got scooped up, then I’d wager it’s still exactly where it was back then.”

“So” he murmurs, “We… We really could get it for him?”

“Sure” she says, “We can go grab it ourselves, or I can ask Tony or Nat to go and find it?”

His face shifts into something terribly conflicted. For a moment, she thinks that he might speak, but instead, he just ducks his head back down into her shoulder, burying his face against her like hiding might erase the burn of shame he’s experiencing because he just can’t volunteer himself to go and retrieve it himself.

It doesn’t.

Her arms wrapping back around across his body helps though.

So does the way she presses her lips against the top of his head, hushing him before she says,

“FRIDAY, can you message Natasha discretely for me? Do it in Russian so she knows it’s private— ask her to go down to the archives and use my override to get into the safe in room 12, tell her that I think the tag is somewhere between boxes 1-8 under one of Peg’s old dresses. When she’s got it, ask her to bring it up here, don’t let Rodgers see.”

‘Yes, boss’

“I- I’m sorry” she hears Bucky whisper, voice melting against her throat, “I just can’t-“

“It’s okay” she soothes, “Baby, it’s fine, Nat loves snoopin’ around down there, she’ll get it for us, and then you can double check, make sure it’s right before you give it to him.”

“Before-“ he gulps, “before I give it to him?”

“well, yeah” she says, smiling, “Sweetheart, unless you don’t want too?”

“I- I do” he blurts out urgently, “I-I just, thought maybe you-”

“No, baby” she murmurs, “I think it’ll mean more if it’s you.”

‘Ms Romanoff is on her way to the archives now, Boss— she asked me pass on a message to Bucky on her behalf’

“Oh?” Y/N scoffs, pressing another kiss against his head, “What message would that be?”

‘Dobro pozhalovat' domoy, serzhant’

Welcome Home, Sergeant.

That makes a smile bloom across her face.

The recorded greeting being laced with a genuine tone of kindness is enough to make her affection towards her old friend swell in her chest.

“She… Is, is that her voice?”

‘Yes, Bucky- I can relay messages to anybody you like.’

“Could you reply for me? could… could you tell her ‘Thank you, and I- I’m sorry, for— for fightin’ you, and for- for shootin’ you back… back in Japan.”

“Sure I will.”

“Sweetheart” Y/N says, “you know she’s not angry, don’t you?”

“It doesn’t matter” he counters weakly, “It doesn’t matter if she’s angry, doll, I— I’m still sorry.”

The silence that follows doesn’t last long, but it’s still long enough for his words to make Y/N’s chest ache again.

“C’mere” she purrs, settling herself back against the arm of the couch, guiding him up, so he’s back in position between her thighs, “Grab that blanket, baby, are you sure you’re not hungry?”

He lets one of his hands snake out so he can pull the covers out from underneath his legs, whispering out an “I- I can eat if… if you want me to?” as he passes it to her.

“It’s not up to me” Y/N says, arranging the quilt across his back, “what do you want?”

“…To stay here for awhile?…”

He means in her arms. He means against her chest, where he finally feels safe, and there isn’t a single thing in the world that could convince her to prise him away. Not with the way he’s looking at her, wide eyed and touch-starved.

“Then you can stay here awhile.” she tells him, one hand snaking up to cup his cheek, “You can stay right here for as long as you want”

“Excuse the interruption, but Miss Romanoff has sent a reply, Bucky, would you like to hear it now, or shall I store it for later playback?”

Bucky’s eyes widen for a moment, and he pushes back into Y/N’s hand as he gulps;

“Can I- Can I hear it now?”

‘Ofcourse—

Zabud' ob etom. Vy byli pervym chelovekom, kotoryy ustroil mne dostoynyy boy za desyat' let. My provedem match-revansh, kogda tebe stanet luchshe.’

Forget about it. You were the first person to give me a decent fight in a decade. We'll rematch when you're feeling better.

There’s a laugh in her tone that makes Y/N scoff, eyes rolling as her old friends voice floods the space.

“See?” she whispers, pressing a kiss against his lips, “Don’t worry about Nat”

His smile is tight and anxious, and she can tell he wants to hide again, so she reminds him that he doesn’t need to reply, and that is when he surrenders, nodding and retreating to her chest.

“We’ll eat later” she says, “You, you just get comfy, it’s been a hell of a mornin’…”

It has, it has been a hell of a morning.

“I love you” is the response he settles on, “I- I love you so much”

That makes her laugh, but it’s sweet, it’s happy and girlish, and he’s beaming into the skin of her throat.

“Baby boy” she coos, “I love you more.”

“’s not possible” he counters, because he can’t not, “doll, It… it’s like you hung the damn moon”

“We’ll argue it out another day” she whispers, feeling him sagging against her, “you’re exhausted.”

He is, he is exhausted, he’s emotionally drained and the heat from her body is drawing him in, making it easy for his breathing to synchronise with hers, deep, and slow.

His eyes are closed and her fingers are in his hair.

God, he feels like the luckiest man alive.

and then, he’s asleep again.

Y/N spends more time showering him in gentle touches, this time. She plays with the curls that are hanging loose across the back of his neck. She presses her lips against his brow and then finally drapes one arm across the back of waist so that she can pull up the STARK internship paperwork that she’d mentioned filling out earlier with the other.

In two hours, it’s early evening and she’s half way through the file.

In three, she’s still half way through, but now Natasha has let her know that she has the dog tag, and she can bring it up whenever.

Now might be the best time, she considers, whilst he’s sleeping— maybe we can avoid another introduction.

She relays her thoughts to FRIDAY who quietly, and politely agrees with her theory, and tells her that ‘Ms Romanoff will be with her in a few moments.’

It’s been just over five minutes when Natasha lets herself into Y/N’s suite.

Unlike Steve she’s used to dropping by, so, there isn’t any cause for her to stop to survey her surroundings.

That is, until she spots her best friend, curled up on her couch with the very same super-solider that had been deemed as ‘HYRDA’s most dangerous weapon’ passed out between her thighs.

That is definitely worth a double take.

Y/N’s eyes roll at the look on her face, and she uses her free hand to beckon her towards her,

“He’s sleeping—” she tells her helpfully, “— and thank you for finding it so quickly”

The dog tag is already in her outstretched palm. Natasha’s smile is curious more than anything else, so Y/N finds herself mirroring it, quirking a brow and murmuring out a “what?” that makes the other woman chuckle, quiet and tempered into the air between them;

“This isn’t just a hook-up is it?”

“No” she replies, “No, I don’t think it is.”

The red-head nods, and her face morphs into something only approving.

“You met him whilst you were away?” she checks, waiting for Y/N to nod before she continues, “So you’ve been, together, for awhile?”

“Yeah” Y/N agrees, “better part of 5 years.”

“Well” Nat sighs, “I hope he deserves you.”

“He does” she’s quick to tell her

“good” the other woman replies, “if you trust him, then that’s good enough for me, just let him know that if he breaks your heart then it won’t just be Tony he has to watch out for.”

That makes Y/N snort, childish and happy as she nods, curling her fingers through Bucky’s hair again.

“Speaking off” Natasha murmurs, “Is he okay? With this whole thing?”

“I think he’s more than okay” she says, “Honestly, I didn’t expect him to be so good about it, y’know? but he’s really gone out of his way to make this easy on us.”

“He can probably tell how happy you are” she replies, “and if somethin’ happens and you need me then-”

“I know you’ve got my back” Y/N swears, “You always have, Nat- ya tebya lyublyu”

I love you

A genuine smile blooms across the red-heads face. She’s beaming as she leans in to press a kiss on Y/N’s brow, and she’s still sporting the same grin when she starts towards the door.

“Do you think he’ll mind if I stop by tomorrow?”

“I don’t know” Y/N says honestly, “I doubt it? If he isn’t ready then I’ll slip out and catch you before training”

And then she’s gone, and Y/N finds herself tucking the dog tag into her pocket so that she can return her attention to the papers she’d been working on before.

Bucky doesn’t stir for another hour. By then she’s actually almost finished. She’s so focused on the task at hand that she only notices he’s awake when he moves, rolling onto his side so he can peer at the glowing hologram she’s typing on.

“Hey, love” she purrs, “Sorry, I thought I’d try and get this finished whilst you slept.”

“Don’t be sorry, doll” he replies, voice cracking with disuse, “Have I been out long?”

“3 hours, maybe 4?” Y/N answers, looking at the clock, “it’s about 8 now, Nat’s been and gone.”

That catches his attention, he paws at his eyes, and then at his chin, all whilst using his metal arm to support his weight so he can stare at her face.

“What?” she presses, typing the final sentence of her conclusion with impressive speed, “Did you want me to wake you?”

“No” he admits, “I- I just didn’t think she’d be able to find it so quick”

The papers are finished so Y/N hits submit, dismissing the screen with a flick of her wrist so that she can give him her full attention.

“It wasn’t hidden” she reminds him calmly, “Do you want to see it?”

His lip quirks as he nods.

She shifts her hips pulling the silver, age-stained trinket out of her pocket before letting the charm drop, so that its where he can reach out and grab it.

He does, turning it over in his flesh fingers as his eyes scan the engravings again and again.

“Is it the right thing?” she wonders, already suspecting from the look on his face that it is, “I’m pretty sure, but-”

“Yeah” he says, “Yeah, it- it’s right— can I give it to him now?”

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | x | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12

[quillsandcauldroncakes]

I Found You (Bucky Barnes X Rogers!Reader)

Words: 4.1k

Warnings/Themes: Angst! Character death, abduction, torture, human experimentation, allusions to PTSD, depression, thoughts of wanting to be unalived

Characters/Pairings: 40s!Bucky Barnes x Rogers!Reader, Steve Rogers, Peggy Carter (Mentioned), Howling Commandos (Mentioned)

misspygmypie asked:

Hello 🥰 I saw your request post and figured I'd send something in. I've had this idea for years, and it would be fun to read it!

You know when Steve finds and rescues Bucky at Hydra in the first movie? What if it's reader who they're rescuing and Hydra did some experiments on. Maybe she's Steves sister and they wanted to get to him through her and obviously Bucky has a thing for her lol 🥰

A/N: Sincerest apologies for taking so long to get this up. I've been taking on extra duties at work since my partner got fired and things have been super crazy since it's end of quarter. it also hasn't been the best for my mental health, so writing had been a struggle. probably why this ended up being so dang angsty. Sorry. Adulting seriously sucks. Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Rain pattered gently on the canvas walls of the medical tent, while boots splashed noisily in the mud it created. Outside of the tent, she could hear the daily drills going on, soldiers training, and officers shouting commands. Her own fellow nurses milled about the tent, tending to wounded soldiers or doing other daily chores. It was a quiet day for the 107th Infantry Regiment.

“Alright, Private Richards, try not to go sticking your hand into random holes again. I doubt the next rabbit will be so kind.” Nimble fingers began tidying up the bloodied cotton balls and gauze used to clean and wrap the boy’s hand. 18 years old, you would think he’d know better than to stick his hand in holes in the ground.

“Yes, First Lieutenant, ma’am…” The boy grabbed his jacket and sulked out of the med tent. She laughed to herself as she watched him go. Knowing him, he’d be back soon enough. Not unlike his Sergeant, who wandered in a few moments later, a lazy smirk on his lips.

James Buchanan Barnes. Or as she’s known for most of her life, Bucky. The charming Sergeant was her older brother’s best friend, having been around since she was small. They were all thick as thieves, hardly seen without one of the others.

It may or may not have been a blessing to constantly have Bucky around. He was kind, funny, and took good care of her and her brother. However, other boys and men didn’t seem too eager to get to know her with him hanging at her shoulder. It’s even worse now with Steve being triple the size he was a year ago.

Occasionally, a brave soul will strike up the nerve to enter the medical tent and ask her out to the nearest town for a drink and a dance. But Bucky had uncanny timing. He always popped up just as she was about to answer.

“Now, a pretty face like that shouldn’t look so angry.” A voice sounded in her ear. A startled gasp escaped her and her hands fumbled the tools she had been organizing. Bucky caught a pair of forceps before they could hit the floor.

“James! You nearly gave me a heart attack!” She admonished him with a firm smack on the shoulder. He chuckled and rubbed the sore spot.

“Ow, careful there, doll. Gonna take my arm off with that strength.”

“Oh please, it’ll take a lot more than that to get rid of you.” She spun out of his reach when he tried to grab her arm. A small smile graced her lips as she made a final spin to face him. “Did you need something, Bucky?”

“What, I can’t come see my best girl just because I want to?

 “I know your troop is supposed to be running the course right now, so no you can’t just come see me because you want to,” she said while gesturing for him to sit on the cot in the corner or her station. “Now, what mess did you get yourself into to be sent here?”

“You know me so well, Darlin’,” he whispered wistfully, smiling up at her with those big blues. He wore a dopey smile as he presented his cut left hand. She pursed her lips and tried to fight the blush rising to her cheeks. Damn him.

Stepping closer, she took his calloused hand into her softer one and observed the cut. It wasn’t too deep but still needed to be cleaned and dressed.

“What happened?” She remained in between his legs as she prepped some alcohol and gauze. His right hand toyed with the fabric of her skirt. With a narrowed look, she smacked the back of it.

“Just a climbing exercise; a nail was sticking out of the wall and caught my hand.” His voice was hushed as she worked. She hummed and began cleaning the wound. He hissed and jerked his hand back. With eyes rolling, the nurse grabbed his hand more firmly.

“You big baby.”

“Your big baby.” She smacked his arm again.

<><>

Gunshots fired all around her, men shouting and screaming. Some in pain, some as a battle cry. But all she could think about was how gentle Bucky’s hands had been in hers. And how much she wished it was his hands on her right now.

But larger, rougher hands now tore at her. Pushing and pulling. She screamed from behind her gag and her hands strained against the restraints. Black boots kicked out at her captors as she fought like a feral cat. She twisted this way and that, anything to loosen their grip on her. But against four burly men, she didn’t stand a chance.

She guessed they had gotten tired of her struggling because a blunt weapon struck the back of her head and she fell limp to the ground.

It was cold. Colder than she had ever been. The air was damp, making the ache in her lungs worse. Blurry eyes peeled open. The room she sat in was dark, only a green-tinted light on the other side of the room illuminated the space. Its murky light cast deep shadows around the room that seemed to move. Her head lolled to the side as one shadow moved closer.

Ah, not shadows. Men. Hydra.

“Good evening, Miss Rogers.” His voice was heavily accented and polite. Nothing like what you’d imagine a torturer or murderer to sound like. “I am honored to have Captain America’s sister as my guest.”

She groaned. The gag was no longer wrapped around her mouth, but her tongue felt like lead. Thoughts struggled to focus and grasp what this man was saying.

“Such a shame, a First Lieutenant, Chief Nurse, so much promise in your future. But because of your brother, you’ll never get to meet that future. We have another one much better suited for you.”

His words floated through her mind but didn’t stick. She was a nurse… She helps people. Why was she here? There were soldiers at camp that needed her. Bucky needed her…

“..ucky…” She slurred, drool dribbling from the corner of her mouth. Her bones felt heavier than lead and her muscles were like the slop served at breakfast. The shadows at the edge of her vision danced ever closer.

“Don’t worry, my dear, you’ll forget the pain soon.”

<><> 

Bucky tore through the camp, Steve hot on his heels. His blue eyes roved over the multitude of bodies and injured, searching for that familiar head of hair. Always done up so prettily. Like last week when she was bandaging up his hand. Her nails were painted red, and her hair was twisted up into a flawless bun. Her red-painted lips smiled warmly at him. Fear gripped his heart at the idea that he would never see that smile again.

“Bucky, stop!” Steve clamped a hand on his best friend’s shoulder, forcing the Sergeant to a stop. It wouldn’t do his sister any good if they lost their heads. As much as he wanted to tear the whole world apart until his sister was safe, he knew that reckless actions could get her killed. If she wasn’t dead already…

“She’s – she’s gone, Steve. Where is she!?” Bucky spun to face Steve, his eyes wide and slightly crazed. He can’t lose her. He never got to take her on a date. Never got to hold her close and confess how deeply and fervently he love her. Bucky bit down on his lip to stop its wobble. He can’t cry, not yet. Not while there’s still a possibility she’s out there.

“I know. I know, Buck. We’ll get her back. No matter what.”

Footsteps rushed up to the pair. A soldier stopped in front of them, slightly out of breath. “A-a letter for you, sir. It-it has the hydra insignia.”

Upon reading the contents, Steve and Bucky took off to Colonel Phillips' tent. The older man sat at a desk, signing letters to the families of the deceased and missing. Steve hardly gave the man time to put his pen down before requesting a team to rescue the captured. He decided to leave out the fact that he was only doing this to get his sister back.

“I understand the heroic need to save the day, but those who have been taken prisoner are far behind enemy lines and we don’t have the manpower or resources to conduct a rescue mission.” Phillips’ response was expected, but it didn’t stop Bucky’s jaw from clenching or his hands from balling into fists.

The Colonel looked at the two young men standing in front of him. He knew exactly why they wanted to go. Only a fool would think that Captain America wouldn’t move heaven and earth for the younger Rogers. An even bigger fool wouldn’t see the lovesick look every time James Barnes was near her, or the way his gaze follows her as she walks across the base.

Phillips sighed heavily, digging through a stack of letters yet to be signed. First Lieutenant Y/N Rogers. MIA.

Steve took the letter with shaking hands. Bucky felt a tear roll down his cheek.

They were dismissed and the two trudged away. A silent look was exchanged and they agreed. They would go after her with or without permission.

<><> 

“…name… Rogers…” Chapped lips mumbled her name over and over again. A tired mind determined to hold on to herself. Don’t forget. Don’t forget. “…Y/N… Rogers…”

“Y/N?” A voice hissed.

“Y/N/N?” A different voice, closer this time.

“Steve! She’s here!” The buckles around her wrists and ankles fell off one by one. Warm, calloused hands that she dreamed about cupped her face. She groaned and willed the fog from her brain. These hands. Bucky’s hands.

“Buck…” She croaked, red lipstick smudged, and once pristine hair hanging limply around her face. His smile brightened the shadows in her vision. Steve had joined them and helped her sit up.

“Hey, doll. What’s a pretty girl like you doing in a place like this?” Giving her a watery smile, he pushed the hair from her face. The cheap line earned him a weak chuckle.

“Oh, what any girl does in a place like this,” she responded. Together, the two men helped her to her feet. The room pitched suddenly, her legs giving out under her. Whatever they had given her made her legs weak.

“Guess you make me a little weak in the knees,” she joked as Bucky swept her into his arms. She tucked her head into his neck, leaning heavily into him. Steve carefully led the way out, checking around corners and taking out any enemy soldiers that they crossed paths with.

Eventually, the trio made it out of the now-burning building. A mass of freed soldiers met them and together the company fought their way back to their camp. Bucky cradled her close to his chest the entire time. He stuck close to Steve, letting him take the punches. Steve didn’t mind.

For almost two weeks she was laid up in a cot in the medical tent. It was strange, in the years that she had been an army nurse, she had been the one giving care. She had never been the patient. And the patient of her subordinates, no less.

Her closer friends teased her that she was a horrible patient. Their teasing helped ease the residual anxiety and adrenaline from her ordeal. But what had really helped, was Bucky’s constant presence. During meal time and recreation time, he would come to visit her in the medical tent. Steve would drop by as well, but it was mostly Bucky.

As the days passed, Bucky seemed more and more nervous, however. Like he had something to say, just on the tip of his tongue. Sometimes, when he maybe thought she wasn’t looking, she caught him looking guilty. She hoped beyond hope that he didn’t blame himself for what had happened.

“You’re cleared to return to light duty, First Lieutenant,” Second Lieutenant Fredricks said with a smile.

The first few days of light duty were spent organizing and assisting. Then after a week, she was cleared to begin training again. Nurses didn’t necessarily need to do the drills the men did, but it didn’t mean they couldn’t. She also preferred to stay in shape and to keep her skills from going rusty.

Growing up with her brother being bullied, Y/N learned how to defend not only herself but Steve, as well. The elder Rogers sibling didn’t care for her fighting but he did appreciate that in a pinch, she could defend herself.

In the early morning, dressed in a pair of trousers and a simple shirt, Y/N makes her way to the track. A run should be light enough.

She could make out the tall frames of Steve and Bucky amongst the other men getting ready for their morning run. Bucky smiled as she approached.

“Hey, how’s it going? You sure you’re okay to be running?” Bucky brushed his hand over hers when she stopped in front of him. The touch made her stomach flutter but she smiled confidently at him.

“Actually, I’ve never felt better. I’m tired of being cooped up in the med tent for so long.” She bent to tighten her boots’ laces. Bucky shrugged and patted her shoulder, teasingly telling her to not fall behind. She scoffed and took off after the troops in a light jog.

Steve and Bucky kept pace with her, both worrying she might become too tired and collapse. Their hovering and not-so-subtle glances did not go unnoticed by her. Irritation settled quickly in her bones. She wasn’t some fragile flower. Just because something bad happened to her doesn’t mean she going to break at any moment.

Spurred by anger, her legs moved faster on their own accord. Steve glanced at his best friend as they sped up to match. Soon, the three of them were overtaking the other troops. Bucky was breathing heavily as they passed the frontman, now in a full sprint.

“W-wait!” He panted as the two Rogers siblings were now racing down the path. How was she running that fast!? How wasn’t she tired? Her smaller frame broke past Steve, who was now struggling to keep up.

The younger Rogers didn’t even notice the concerned and shocked looks she was receiving. The wind rushing in her ears and the trees blurring in her vision was all she could focus on. She felt like she was flying; her feet barely touching the ground. She felt free.

She burst into the clearing at the end of their running trail, the morning sun warming her wind-chilled skin. The grass kicked up as she skidded to a halt. A laugh erupted from her, her head light with adrenaline and awe. Then reality sunk in.

Bucky and Steve broke through the tree line a few minutes later.

“Y/N!”

She turned to look at them, her brows scrunched together and lips forming a thin line.

“They did this to me…” She murmured, gazing turning down at her clenched fists. She had thought she was feeling so good because she survived Hydra’s torment. How quickly this revelation brought her down. They poked and prodded, injected, and dissected. They had changed her.

“Doll?” Bucky approached her slowly, hands out in front of him. Seeing her lip wobble had his heart shattering in him. Throwing caution to the wind, he wrapped his arms around her. She buried her face in his chest, drowning her sobs in the rough fabric of his shirt. Her brother stood beside them, rubbing his hand over her shoulders.

“I’ve got ya, sweets. I got ya,” Bucky muttered into her hair. “We’re gonna figure this out. It’ll be okay.”

Lord, he hoped he was telling the truth.

<><> 

Months went by as she adjusted to her new abilities. After she discovered her inhuman speed, she quickly learned she was inhumanly strong. Not as strong as her brother, but definitely stronger than any other man in the camp.

She began training with the men, easily laying anyone flat during sparring. Even Steve struggled against her. While he surpassed her in strength, she made it up in speed and agility. She had been given the moniker of Lady Liberty once the higher-ups found out.

But despite the usefulness of these abilities. She couldn’t help but feel violated. Every night she woke up in a cold sweat, dreaming of their cold instruments and icy laughter. More than once she ended up in the clearing from months before.

Each time she made it out there, Bucky wasn’t far behind. He held her as he had back then, whispering comforting words and stroking her hair. This night began no differently than the others. They sat in the middle of the clearing, the half-moon illuminated above their heads.

“I’m sorry, Bucky… You don’t have to come out here with me every night.” She sniffled, wiping her tears from her cheeks. She was settled in between his stretched-out legs, her own draped over one of his thighs. He shook his head and sighed.

“I don’t mind, Doll. Really.” Soft lips pressed against her temple. “Unless you tell me to go, I won’t leave your side. I can’t.”

Shining eyes looked up into his baby blues. She had never felt so safe and protected as she did in Bucky’s arms. Even though she could easily kick his butt in a fight, she knew he would fight tooth and nail for her. And she would burn down the world for him.

There was no doubt in her mind as she pressed her lips to his. He sighed against her as he deepened the kiss, pulling her closer by the waist. Everything clicked into place with this kiss. They had been dancing around this thing between them for years, neither willing to take the leap and possibly lose what they already had.

But the feeling of her lips on his, the taste of her on his tongue had him bitterly regretting not doing this sooner. How many kisses could they have had? How many dates and late nights have they missed? He sure had a lot of time to make up.

“I love you, Y/N.” His breath fanned across the skin of her neck as his kiss-swollen lips brushed along it.

“I love you, James.”

<><> 

Over the next two years, the Howling Commandos slowly but surely made their way through the Hydra bases. First Lieutenant Rogers led alongside her brother, Captain Rogers. Not only as extra muscle, but as a nurse, and occasionally, spy. Bucky didn’t like the idea of his girl being ogled by slimy nazi men, but she convinced him that no one would expect a woman to be a super soldier.

She would infiltrate their meetings as a piece of eye candy, acquiring information as needed and then arresting the men as she saw fit.

But this particular mission didn’t require revealing dresses or sultry makeup. Rather, she wore a winter coat and combat boot with reinforced soles. The speed that she ran quickly ate through nearly all of her shoes.

The Commandos were all situated on a cliff overlooking another with a set of train tracks. They were waiting on the train carrying Doctor Zola. Glove-covered hands clenched at her side. Doctor Zola. One of the men who had turned her into this. Turned her into a weapon.

Bucky’s heavy hand wrapped around her waist and pulled her to his side. His soft lips brushed against her temple.

“It’s gonna be okay,” he reassured. “We go in, kick some ass, and then get out. Easy.”

She chuckled and pressed a kiss to his waiting lips. The other men had the decency to look away from the couple.

“Alright, lovebirds, let’s get a move on.” Steve’s voice called out from the edge of the cliff.

She scoffed at her brother and kissed her sergeant once more. “See you on the other side, tiger.”

<><> 

Things were going south very quickly. Hydra had more gun power than she had thought. A huge man with bigger guns than himself stood in the doorway to their car. His guns glowed blue as they powered up.

Steve shoved both his sister and Bucky behind him, holding up his shield. The blast had her teeth rattling in her skull, her body flying back further than the boys. The impact of her head hitting the metal floor caused stars to dance in her vision.

She could barely comprehend the cold rush of air from the massive hole in the side of the train. And before she could gather herself, the man was priming another shot, pointed directly at her. Shaking legs tried to bare her weight as she scrambled for her gun.

Bucky had gathered himself faster than her or her brother, so she could only watch as he picked up Steve’s shield and fired a few shots at the enemy. A scream ripped from her throat when blue light shot out at her sergeant.

Bucky went flying, the shield in the other direction. Both the Rogers siblings jumped into action. Steve went for the shield, quickly taking out the other man. She leaped for the hole in the wall of the train that Bucky had flown out of.

Her eyes widened with horror as she gazed upon the man she loved, hanging on for dear life to the crumbling handrails.

“Bucky! Hold on!” She reached out to him, trying to find her footing to get to him and pull him to safety. The look in his eyes was one she had never seen on him before. Blue eyes wide with fear, his mouth poised in a silent scream. And as his fingers brushed against hers, tips barely able to curl around each other, he was gone.

His scream was joined by hers. The image of him falling to his death will forever be ingrained in her mind. It’ll be the last thing on her mind as she goes to sleep and the first one when she wakes up. It’ll be there when she fights her way through Hydra soldiers, and as she sends her fist straight into Johann Schmidt’s ugly, red face.

Steve worried about his sister’s mental health since that day. She had retreated into herself. Long gone was the witty and strong woman he knew. His sister, who had always been so bright, had been replaced by someone who only knew how to fight.

She only spoke to give orders or to communicate during battle. Her words were always clipped and to the point; no room for banter or sarcasm. The icy wall she had built around herself was all to conceal the torment her mind tortured her with.

If only she had been stronger, maybe she wouldn’t have been down for so long. If she had been faster, she could have reached him before he fell. If she had been better, maybe he wouldn’t have died. Every moment was filled with these thoughts. Awake or not. It was all she could think about.

Eventually, she became too tired. She fought with everything she had; Bucky at least deserved that. She wouldn’t give up simply because it would mean he died in vain. However, with each new opponent, she could help but wish that this one would be stronger than her.

No opponent was ever stronger than her. Until now.

It wasn’t a person that she now faced her death with. But a plane filled with explosives. Schmidt was gone, as was the Tesseract. Now, she and her brother faced the cracked windows of the plane. She tried to keep her lip from trembling as Steve spoke with Peggy.

Even if she hadn’t gotten her happy ending, she had wished her big brother would have gotten his. Tear-filled eyes opened when she felt a hand come to rest on hers. Steve’s face was solemn as he spoke.

“I’ve gotta put it in the water.” He was half telling Peggy and half asking for permission from his sister. It wasn’t just his life going down for millions of others, but his little sister’s, too. The siblings shared a weighty look before she nodded.

Lady Liberty listened quietly as Captain America spoke with Agent Carter. No.

Y/N listened brokenheartedly as her big brother said his goodbyes to the woman he loved and who loved him in return.

And as Steve redirected the plane to the icy terrain below, she closed her eyes and imagined the warm hands of her love. His blue fire eyes and easy grin. The feel of his lips against hers. The sound of her name on his tongue.

I’m coming, Bucky.

[sashaisready]

The Blood Pact: Chapter 14 - Run

Bucky Barnes Vampire AU x Female Reader

Reeling from a bad break-up, you're desperately trying to find a new place to live but the Brooklyn rental market is a complete nightmare. You take a chance on an intriguing newspaper ad and enquire about a room in a shared house, where you'd be living with two mysterious men. The catch is that they want something other than your money for you to pay the rent...the one thing they don't have

Series Masterlist

Chapter 15

Here we gooooo. No major warnings here as it escalates in the next chapter, just some mild sexual references for now. As always I’m grateful for comments/reblogs 💜

The night of the vampire party flew around quickly. You stood in the kitchen about an hour before it was due to start, washing the dishes after dinner. Bucky was upstairs getting ready and you were feeling good in your favourite dress, ready for a girls night out with Nat and Wanda. You planned to crash on Wanda’s couch and creep back to the house when the sun was up and it was officially vampire-free (apart from your snoozing boyfriend and his best friend, of course). You hadn’t seen your friends properly for a while so were looking forward to some decent girl time with them both.

“Hey sweetie” Steve sang as he shot into the kitchen. He’d been rushing around since he got up, scrubbing at imaginary specks of dirt and ensuring everything was perfect for the big night.

“Hi Stevie” you replied as you put your clean dishes back in the cabinet. “Look, I’m all done – no evidence of human meals here”.

He laughed. “Thanks ‘hon. I promise I wasn’t checking up on you. I actually wanted to ask if I could borrow your nice wine glasses tonight, you know the crystal ones?”

You eyed him suspiciously. “And…will you be drinking blood from these glasses?”

He shrugged, giving you a look that confirmed he absolutely would be.

“Steve…c’mon” you chastised. “You have loads of fancy antique ones. How can I enjoy my wine now when I know the glass was just filled to the brim with human blood?”

“Please! I’ll buy you new ones, I promise” he pleaded. “And we don’t fill to the brim, we have standards you know”.

You both laughed and you rolled your eyes, waving your hands at him dismissively.

“Fine. But I want fancy new ones. No cheap TJ Maxx ones” you mock scolded.

Steve grinned, locking you into one of his trademark bearhugs. “You got it. Thank you!”

He began to take the glasses out of the cabinet as you wiped your hands and headed out the door to finish getting ready.

“Wait…” Steve called, his voice soft.

“What?” you asked as you spun to face him. “Don’t say you want my cocktail glasses too…”

He shook his head, then leaned against the counter.

“I uh…hope you don’t mind, but Buck mentioned you had asked about him turning you” he muttered quietly.

You nodded. “Uh huh…went down like a lead balloon” you laughed in an attempt to sound breezy, but it was strained.

“He told me what happened. I just wanted to check you were okay?” Steve watched you carefully.

“Yeah…I mean. I get it. He’s looking out for me” you replied.

Steve nodded. “He is. I hope you know how much you mean to him. Him not wanting to do that…it doesn’t change how he feels”.

You smiled, unable to help the blush you felt spread over your cheeks and neck at how hearing that makes you feel. “Thanks Steve. He means a lot to me, too”.

He smiled back before studying your face. “Tell me if I’m…out of line, but is any of this because of what I told you about me and Peggy?”

You flinched, surprised by his intuition.

“Maybe a little” you admitted. “It’s just…makes me wonder if we’re doomed. If human and vampire couples can’t work unless the human is turned. Maybe our lives are just too different”.

“Not necessarily” Steve replied. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s tough. But it’s not impossible”.

“But you…”

“The truth is, Peggy didn’t really want this life” he explained, gesturing at the space around him. “She thought she did, and we were going to…but I realised she had all this stuff she wanted to achieve in her career... Stuff she’d never have been able to do if she lived on the edge of society like I did. And you know what, she did it all. She founded her own intelligence agency, she was at the forefront of this big operation and her work saved countless lives. If I had turned her she never would’ve had the life she wanted, that she deserved. I’m so grateful I realised before it was too late. I couldn’t live with myself if we’d gone through with it and she later resented me for taking that from her”.

You nodded, slightly taken aback by this revelation. “Was she mad at you? For going back on it?”

He laughed heartily. “Oh…big time. At one point I thought she was going to throw me out in the sun she was so mad. She was furious that I’d taken her choice away from her, said I was acting like I knew better than she did about what she wanted. But you know what?”

You nodded, understanding full well how she must’ve felt. You signalled for him to continue.

“Years later…she wrote a letter asking to meet, and so we met up in DC. She was much older by then, but still beautiful. She was thinking about stepping down from work because her daughter had just had a baby and she wanted to get to know her grandchild, reconnect with her kids...She thanked me, she told me I was right and I made the right choice for us both. She said she most likely wouldn’t have regretted a very different life with me, but she loved the life she had – and she was grateful”.

“Oh, Steve” you rushed to him and hugged him, your eyes glossy with tears. It must’ve been so painful for him to lose his great love.

“So you see, Buck is right to be cautious” he explained soothingly. “It’s about you, not about him. And who knows, maybe in a few years it’ll be different. But for now, trust me when I say there’s no rush”.

You smiled up at him, nodding. “Thank-you, Steve. I appreciate it”.

You both looked at one another in quiet understanding for a moment when Bucky’s booming voice suddenly rang through the house.

“Steve! Can I borrow that grey blazer of yours I like?”

Steve rolled his eyes and you giggled, cocking your head and gesturing upstairs.

“You better go help that diva, you know how he gets”.

Steve smirked and affectionately rubbed your shoulder. “I’m glad we had this talk”.

“Me too” you smiled.

“Steve!” Bucky bellowed again, much less patiently now.

Steve huffed and disappeared out of the room.

You chuckled to yourself as wiped down the sink. You felt strangely lighter, grateful to Steve for seeking you out and speaking to you. He must’ve known how you would feel after that conversation with Bucky, having been through something similar himself, and he took it upon himself to make you feel better. You were grateful for his empathy, counting yourself lucky to have him as a friend.

As for Bucky, the chat had given you a renewed perspective. You knew he was only looking out for you, but hearing more about it from the other side was helpful. Part of you had felt rejected when he’d refused, as silly as that might be, as if he didn’t wantto turn you because he didn’t want you. Logically you knew it wasn’t true, but it had made you feel better to hear Steve echo what Bucky had already told you.

And they were correct, it was a huge deal. Huger than you could fully grasp. You were already hesitant and unsure if you were able to give up everything you’d need to, and you and Bucky were enjoying figuring out your relationship and spending time together – so why rush? Both he and Steve were right – you were just going to enjoy the ride for now.

You were so caught up in your thoughts you hadn’t noticed the pair of strong arms curl around your waist until they tightened and vaulted you up off the floor.

“Hey Doll” Bucky growled in your ear as you squawked in surprise.

You batted him away as he gracefully placed you back down.

“Hey!” you said playfully. “Why are you quietly creeping around? Creep”.

“I wasn’t quiet, you’re just oblivious” he grinned.

You turned to look at him properly, managing to stifle a short intake of breath as you took him all in. Steve’s purloined blazer was certainly put to good use, showing off Bucky’s broad back and shoulders. His crisp white shirt clung to his wide torso and his slacks hugged his sturdy thighs. As always he’d put a dab of product in his hair but a few rogue strands had already escaped across his forehead.

You could almost eat him up.

(So to speak…)

His expression darkened with mischief as he clearly recognised that look in your eye. He took a second to look you over, his hands grazing over your hips and waist as he pulled you closer. He leaned over and whispered in your ear, causing a shiver down your spine as his words fluttered against you. His finger lazily found its way under your skirt, delicately sliding across your thigh and threatening to move higher.

“Why don’t I just tell Steve the party’s off” he murmured, his teeth playfully catching your earlobe. “Then we can have a private party of our own…”.

You felt the moisture pool between your legs at his words and your libido momentarily took over as your eyes met his. You would happily blow off Nat and Wanda if it meant him taking you upstairs and making it tricky for you to walk in the morning…

“C’mon” you sternly whispered back, grabbing his wrist and reluctantly removing it from your leg. “You’re seeing your friends and I’m seeing mine. Let’s be good”.

He shot you a mock pout. “Where’s the fun in being good?”

“We could have our party tomorrow instead?” you replied breathily, your finger running along the slither of chest peering out from his top button.

“How about you come meet me at sundown?” you continued as your finger worked its way up his chin. “I’ll be waiting in the kitchen…wearing a little dress…and you get to find out if I decided wear underwear or not?”

He grinned, eyes darkening with lust as his hands skimmed over your backside.

“Fine. But you better not be”.

He punctuated his sentence with a sharp smack to your ass causing you to squeak in surprise.

“You’re insatiable” you teased.

He winked and you giggled as you kissed him.

🩸

Your eyes creaked open as you blearily took in your surroundings. It was bright wherever you were, too bright in fact. You squinted and held your arm up to shield your eyes as you sat up and looked around the room.

You were on a couch…a couch? Wanda’s couch! Right! You had crashed here after your night out. It was strange being back here again, this had been your temporary home after your break up so it didn’t exactly fill you with warm and fuzzies to relive that time.

There were no shades on the living room window so the morning sun was almost blinding. As you moved upright you noticed the thumping in your skull and the dryness of your throat, the evening of drinking and dancing catching up with you. You groaned as you lumbered to the sink and poured yourself a glass of water, greedily guzzling it down as if you’d been lost in the desert for days.

You poured another and sipped from this one sensibly as you didn’t know if your stomach could take any more gulping. You tracked down your discarded purse which you seemed to have launched across the room at some point, finding your shoes along the way. You pulled out your phone and checked the time. 7.30am. You winced, this was no hour for a hangover. You had a couple of texts from Bucky sent in the early hours, telling you the party went well but he missed you. You smiled at his words, already looking forward to seeing him later that evening.

It had been a great night with Nat and Wanda. Maybe too great. You had thrown caution to the wind, chucking back drinks and dancing until your feet could no longer carry you. Eventually you had all set off on a mission to find restorative fries, linking arms and striding down the street as Nat threatened any creeps who dared try talk to any of you. It had felt like you had laughed constantly, nobody else existed of your trio. You realised how much you’d missed them now you spent so much time with Bucky, vowing to ensure you all met more regularly going forward.

You toyed with the idea of flopping back onto the couch and getting another couple of hours of shut eye. You could hear gentle snoring coming from the bedroom down the hall, Wanda and Vis must’ve been utterly dead to the world, oblivious to you stalking about in their apartment. You had a flashback to a poor dishevelled Vis being rudely awakened by Wanda crashing in a heap through the front door, him gently trying to coax her to bed as you laughed so hard your sides hurt.

You felt jealous of their big warm bed, imagining the comfort of your own sheets, and so made the split decision to go home and sleep off your hangover in one of your favourite places. You ripped a page from the notebook on the kitchen table and scribbled a message on it before affixing to the fridge.

GONE HOME 2 SLEEP AND DIE OF HANGOVER – THANKS FOR LETTING ME CRASH, GREAT NIGHT - LOVE U xx

You ensured you had all of your stuff and crept out as quietly as you could, wincing as you closed the door behind you and hoping they wouldn’t wake up. You were looking forward to collapsing into bed and having a lazy day before making up for lost time with Bucky later.

*

One subway ride and a hastily bought bottle of water from the bodega later, your key was in the front door and you were home. You let yourself in, yawning as you kicked your heels off in the hallway and strolling into the kitchen. It was a little bit after 8am.

The kitchen was chaos. Maroon stained drinking glasses strewn everywhere (including your beloved crystal set), drops of blood on the counter, a discarded wash cloth where someone had clearly attempted to make a start cleaning but had given up early on. A misplaced hat had been abandoned on the kitchen table, and half a deck of playing cards seemed to be littered across every surface. The dregs of a fun party, it seemed. Looks like the creatures of the night really let their hair down.

Amongst the chaos your eyes were drawn to a note on the fridge, so you walked over to get a closer look.

Sorry about the mess – do NOT clean, we’ll do it when we get up. Promise. x Steve

You chuckled and grabbed a couple of crackers from the cabinet, chomping them down to satiate your hunger as you fired off a message to Nat and Wanda about how much fun you’d had. Nat had stuck a few blurred photos from the night in the group chat, you smiled fondly as you scrolled and ascended the stairs.

You stretched and yawned as you turned the handle to your bedroom, grateful for the house’s complete silence as you prepared to get a bit more sleep. One of the pluses of living with Steve and Bucky was that you were never disturbed in the mornings, free to snooze for as long as you liked without interruption.

The room was dark, your shades still drawn from last night. That was fine, sunlight wasn’t exactly your friend right now. You flicked on your light switch and ambled into the room, tossing your phone and water bottle onto the night stand as you peeled back the covers.

It was then that you heard a voice from the corner of the room. A voice that shook you from your quiet solitude, chilling your very bones.

“So nice to see you again, baby” it said.

You turned painfully slowly, fear gripping you entirely as you dreaded turning and facing whoever or whatever was in your room. Something primal in your brain screamed for you to run, danger, danger! Get out! Danger!

Finally your eyes met his and you were amazed that you were still standing.

It was the man you had met in the park last week. What had Bucky called him? Rumbold? Runlow?

Rumlow.

He grinned at you, his smile predatory and dangerous.

“Good morning. I hope you don’t mind, but I haven’t had my breakfast yet” he rasped. “And I’m famished”.

You began to run.

[swan-of-sunrise]

Sunshine

Summary: Steve pays a visit to the Smithsonian’s new exhibit honoring Captain America, and a little bit of sunshine unexpectedly breaks through his cloudy day.

Pairing: Steve Rogers X Reader

Word Count: 3.4k

Warning/Disclaimers: Disclaimer for a candid depiction of depression and its symptoms, and brief depictions of PTSD

A/N: I wanted to start this new one-shot collection off with a look into Steve’s POV, specifically when he meets (Y/N) in the Smithsonian. It was my favorite moment to write in The Winter Soldier and I had so much fun revisiting it from a new perspective! Thank you all so much for reading, and I hope that you enjoy!

Sunshine March 2014 Smithsonian National Air and Space Museum, Washington D.C. (Fanfiction Masterlist)

Although it had been over two years since he’d been discovered alive and frozen in time within the wrecked remnants of Schmidt’s plane, Steve Rogers still didn’t quite know what to do with himself. He had work, of course; completing missions on behalf of S.H.I.E.L.D. was familiar, reminiscent of his past and all the work he’d done alongside the SSR as the leader of the 107th tactical team throughout the war. But outside of work, he struggled to find ways to keep himself occupied. The notebook he filled with seventy years of various pop culture references kept him busy but as his understanding of the 21st century grew, so too did the disconnect he felt from the people and places that surrounded him.

So, on a beautiful spring afternoon that others were no doubt spending with their friends and family, Steve found himself sitting alone in the screening room of the Smithsonian Air and Space Museum’s ‘Captain America: A Living Legend and Symbol of Courage’ exhibit. The filmed testimonials of various men and women who’d been directly or indirectly impacted by his actions included an emotionally-charged interview of Peggy Carter from the early 1950’s, several years after the creation of S.H.I.E.L.D. and her promotion to its first Director. Her hairstyle was different and her brown eyes had the hardened look of someone who’d seen far too much pain in such a short span of time, but to Steve she looked exactly the same as she had when they’d fought through Schmidt’s mountain fortress together in 1945.

“That was a difficult winter. A blizzard had trapped half our battalion behind the German line. Steve…Captain Rogers, he fought his way through a Hydra blockade that had pinned our allies down for months.”

Steve remembered the battle, just as he remembered each and every battle before and after. His elevated body temperature and high metabolism kept him from feeling the chill of the blizzard that raged on as he fought, but nothing in the super-soldier serum could keep his body from going numb when he saw the frozen and broken bodies of hundreds of soldiers scattered amongst the snow. He squeezed his eyes shut to stop himself from visualizing the explosions ripping through Panzers and hearing the roaring gunfire ricocheting off his vibranium shield, and he took a deep breath before opening his eyes and refocusing on Peggy.

“He saved over a thousand men, including the man who would…who would become my husband, as it turned out. Even after he died, Steve was still changing my life.”

He looked down at the compass in his hands and studied the black-and-white photograph he’d clipped out of a newspaper back in ‘44. He was happy that Peggy had gotten to live a long and happy life surrounded by loved ones and he made sure to tell her every time he visited her in the nursing home, but he couldn’t help but envy her a little; she’d lived the life he’d always wanted back before he took the serum and became Captain America, but after all he’d seen and done since, he wasn’t even sure what sort of life he wanted to live. He was lost in an unfamiliar world filled with people who believed he should be grateful for a chance at a new life and who didn’t care to know how he truly felt about his situation. It didn’t take him very long to learn that only one thing remained constant after seventy years: the rest of the world only saw Captain America, the Star-Spangled-Man-With-A-Plan, and not Steven Grant Rogers, the kid from Brooklyn who hated bullies and who only wanted to do the right thing.

The video continued to play as Steve stood and exited the screening room, slipping his hands into his jacket’s pockets and bowing his head while he went. The rest of the exhibit was filled with tourists eagerly examining artifacts from his life before and during his time of service, and Steve felt a familiar twinge of discomfort at the sight; it’s like they don’t understand that they belonged to real people and not characters from a story, he thought to himself as he walked past a group of young adults snidely critiquing Dum Dum Dugan’s combat gear displayed on a mannequin along with the rest of the 107th tactical team. There were far fewer people near the display dedicated to Bucky, so Steve gravitated towards it and studied the old photograph of his best friend; he was smiling and there was still a sparkle of life in his eyes, eyes that hadn’t yet seen the brutality of war, the unspeakable horrors concocted by the Nazis and the gruesome torture inflicted on him by Hydra while he was a POW.

Steve’s memories of Bucky and that fateful mission in the Alps were suddenly interrupted when the young woman standing in front of him turned and collided with his chest, dropping her notebook onto the ground and scattering its loose papers across the floor; she immediately knelt and began gathering up the sheets and Steve winced at the accident he’d inadvertently caused. “Sorry! Here, let me help you with that.” He kneeled on the ground before her and assisted her. “I wasn’t paying attention, I’m sorry-”

“I’m the one who should say sorry, I was so wrapped up in writing that I didn’t see…” The young woman’s voice faltered when she looked up from their shared work and her (Y/E/C) eyes widened in recognition. “Steve?”

Steve’s own eyes widened as he finally recalled just where he’d seen the woman before. “(Y/N), right? From yesterday morning?”

(Y/N) nodded. “That’s me.” She took the papers and tucked them inside her well-worn notebook as they stood. “What brings you to the Smithsonian?”

He shrugged and took a moment to adjust the bill of his baseball cap while he thought up a suitable answer. “I had the day off, and I guess I just wanted to see what all the fuss was about. What about you?”

“Research,” She answered with a smile as she proudly brandished her notebook. “I’m writing a novel, so I was looking up information on Soviet Cold War-era missiles. Then when I finished with that, I thought I’d also see what all the fuss was about. I actually had another spark of writing inspiration before I smacked into you just now.”

Steve’s brows rose with interest. “You’re a writer? Have I heard of any of your work before?”

“Well, this novel I’m working on is actually my first.” They both stepped aside to let a group of schoolchildren read Bucky’s display. “I’m trying to become a historical fiction novelist, and I chose to write about the Cold War for my first novel.” Steve couldn’t help but admire the brightness in her smile and how the simple gesture illuminated her entire face, so much so that he nearly missed her question. “So, what do you think? Is everything here historically accurate?”

“Pretty much. What do you think of it?”

(Y/N) considered his question for a moment before answering. “I don’t know yet; on one hand, I think it’s great that an exhibit like this exists to educate people, especially children, about history, but part of me can’t stop thinking that it’s also an invasion of privacy.” Taken slightly aback by her reply, Steve frowned in confusion and watched as she gestured towards the many display cases surrounding them. “Like these, for example. These are private sketches of your family and friends that I’m sure you never meant for others to see. And over there, they have your underwear on display, for God’s sake!” A nearby middle-aged couple threw her a disapproving glare at her exclamation and Steve did his best to stifle his chuckle. “I don’t know, I think that they should show more respect when they create exhibits like this, especially if the person they’re about is still alive. You may be Captain America, but that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve a little privacy, too.” The earnestness and underlying indignation in her words of defense took him by surprise, and it wasn’t until her head tilted to the side in curiosity that he registered the small smile playing on his own lips. “What is it?”

“Nothing…you just sound a little different from most of the people I’ve met since coming out of the ice.” Steve looked over at his best friend’s display and awkwardly cleared his throat as he struggled to keep their conversation going. “It’s lucky that I ran into you, actually, I was gonna try and stop by the VA today but I have no idea what the address is.”

“Oh, I’ve got it right here!” She reached into her pocket for her cell phone and began tapping away. “Let me see, where did I-ah, found it! It’s 50 Irving Street Northwest. All you have to do is go down North Capitol-wait, it might be 6th Street instead…and of course, no signal in here…” A small line formed between her brows as she frowned. “Urgh, if I had my car with me, I’d just give you a ride since I’m going there later anyways but Sam took it to work this morning…”

“I could always give you a ride, if you want?” Steve blurted out, praying that he wouldn’t start blushing as she considered his abrupt but sincere offer. “It’d be no trouble at all.”

(Y/N)’s smile brightened her expression and she nodded. “Okay, then. I’m pretty much done here, so just let me know when you wanna leave.”

“Let’s go.” They walked out of the exhibit and Steve snuck a clandestine look at the writer walking beside him; she was undoubtably pretty, with strikingly intelligent (Y/E/C) eyes and lips that seemed perpetually ready to curve into a teasing smile, and just as he’d done the day before when they’d first met by the National Mall, he compared her to sunshine breaking through a cloudy sky. She was vivacious and so full of life – a shining example of a modern 21st century woman – but at the same time, something about the way she talked and carried herself reminded him of a different time. He’d gone on a couple of dates since coming out of the ice but up to that point, the only woman he felt comfortable being around was Natasha, his coworker and occasional mission partner at S.H.I.E.L.D.; with (Y/N), though, he felt unusually at ease and the only discomfort came from the shyness she brought out in him. C’mon, Rogers, there’s nothing scary about just talking to her, he scolded himself before swallowing thickly and speaking up. “So, how far along are you with your novel?”

“I’m actually almost done with it, thank God. Not that I don’t enjoy writing, of course, but some days it feels like I’ve been writing this thing for a decade.” (Y/N) hitched the strap of her messenger bag higher on her shoulder and flashed him a thankful smile as he held the museum’s front door open for her. “Today was my last day of research. All I need to do is finish writing the last few chapters and then I can send them to my publisher for final approval.”

Steve smiled at the enthusiasm he detected in her voice. “Have you already chosen a title?”

“It’s called For Queen and Country, but there’s a funny story about how that came to be. I originally titled it The Détente Paradox, because the novel chronicles how a female MI5 agent discovers a plot to infiltrate and destabilize peace talks between the United States and the U.S.S.R.; my publisher argued that even if American readers knew the English translation, they wouldn’t understand the story from the title alone-”

“The Relaxation Paradox; makes perfect sense to me.” Steve felt himself flush as (Y/N)’s brows rose in surprise. “I, um, speak a little French. Sorry, you were saying?”

She looked impressed as they made their way towards the museum’s parking lot. “The criticism got under my skin and I couldn’t think of anything else until one night, my publisher called me after binge-watching some classic James Bond movies with his wife. In a couple of them, James Bond sometimes says he does the things he does as a spy ‘for Queen and country,’ and-wait, do you know about James Bond?”

“Nope, but I’ll go ahead and add him to the list,” Steve replied as he pulled out his notebook and jotted down the fictional spy’s name.

“So anyway, my publisher convinced me to change the title to For Queen and Country. I’d hate to boost his ego, but it sounds a lot better than anything I thought of.”

Tucking the notebook back into his pocket, Steve scanned the parking lot for any potential threats while he remarked, “In my day, authors usually sent a completed novel to a publisher instead of sending it in separate parts. I guess that’s changed, too?”

“No, that hasn’t changed; this publishing company’s co-owned by one of my old friends from high school who also happens to be the only person I trust to edit my writing. My situation is a little unorthodox, though; to convince his publishing partner to give a first-time novelist like me a chance, he’s been giving him some of my short stories to read. His partner likes them so far, so as long as I keep sending in things that he enjoys he might agree to publish my novel once it’s finished.”

Steve hummed to himself, even more impressed by the writer walking beside him than he already was. “Sounds stressful.”

“Well, it’s not ideal but it makes balancing research and work a little easier, and I’m not about to quit now, not while I’m so close to being published.” (Y/N) shrugged and looked over at him with a kindly smile on her face. “But what about you? What’re you doing to keep busy these days?”

Hastily deciding that (Y/N) didn’t need to know how he spent his free time alternating between visits with his ninety-three year old first love and moping alone in his apartment, Steve replied, “I work for S.H.I.E.L.D. Whenever I have some free time I read the internet and go through my list to mark things off. I didn’t have much to do this morning, so I listened to some of the soundtrack from American Graffiti; it’s not what I’m used to, but I liked it. All the songs sound unique from one another.”

The writer’s eyes lit up when he mentioned her music recommendation, and he felt his heart stutter at the beautiful sight. “Right? My mom was born in the sixties so she grew up listening to that type of music. Whenever my brother and I had to help on chore day, she’d put on her old records so that we’d have something fun to listen to while we cleaned the house.” They walked through the parking lot and as they turned down an aisle, Steve subtly checked that they weren’t being followed while an unaware (Y/N) continued to talk. “Sam thinks that music from that era is too cheesy, but this is also the guy who thinks that Marvin Gaye’s better than Jimi Hendrix so what the hell does he know?” He stopped beside his motorcycle and she sucked in a quick breath. “Is this yours?”

“Yep, it’s a Harley-Davidson Street 750. The one back there in the exhibit’s a Harley, too, a modified ’42 WLA Liberator. I’ve always preferred motorcycles to cars, so it was nice to see that they haven’t changed too much over the-” The rest of his sentence died in his throat when he caught sight of the unreadable expression on (Y/N)’s face, and his heart instantly plummeted in his chest. “I’m sorry, I should’ve told you that I didn’t have a car. If you’re not comfortable with-”

“No, no, it’s okay, I’ve always wanted to ride a motorcycle!” (Y/N)’s exclamation took him by surprise, but he managed to return her excited smile with one of his own. “Do you have a spare helmet?” He pulled a helmet out of the bike’s back compartment and tossed his baseball cap into it, trying his best not to think about how cute she looked when she placed the helmet on her head. “Wait, what about yours?”

Steve flashed her a teasing grin. “Super-soldier, remember?” She rolled her eyes as he swung a leg over the bike and sat, giving the empty space behind him a pat before placing his hands back on the handlebars. “Hop on.” She followed his direction with less than perfect grace, doing her best to respect his personal space while also trying her hardest not to fall flat on her face, and Steve bit back a smile as he watched her progress in the rearview mirror. “I’ll be able to hear you over the engine noise, so feel free to give directions as we go. And make sure to hold on tight, okay?”

“Sir, yes, sir!”

Chuckling, Steve revved up the engine and backed out of the parking spot; the writer seated behind him predictably panicked at the sudden movement and involuntarily moved her hands from beneath her seat to rest on his waist, causing Steve to blush as he gently took hold of her hands and guided her to wrap her arms around his torso. If he weren’t a super-soldier with heightened abilities, he almost certainly would’ve crashed the motorcycle because of how distracted he found himself by (Y/N)’s presence. He could feel the warmth of her body through his jacket and smell the faint scent of her perfume as she clung onto him and on a wild impulse, he sped up and grinned when she shrieked in delight and tightened her hold on him. True to his word, he heard her give him directions amidst her laughter and much to his disappointment, they reached the VA in under fifteen minutes.

Steve parked the motorcycle in front of the building and switched off the engine before turning in his seat to look at his beaming passenger. “So, how was your first ever motorcycle ride?”

“Amazing!” She held onto his shoulders as she clambered off the bike and removed the helmet. “I might even have to trade in my baby for one!” Steve’s eyes widened at her remark, and she hastily shook her head. “No, no, that’s just my dumb nickname for my Volkswagen Bug! I don’t have an actual baby, of course, and if I did I certainly wouldn’t trade it…um, so yeah, no baby…and no guy, either, in case you were wondering. I’m single, single like a Pringle.” (Y/N) cringed at her own words and dropped her head in her hand to avoid eye-contact. “You can stop my dumb rambling anytime now, Steve…”

Steve’s grin widened. “Don’t worry, it’s not dumb. Entertaining, yeah, but definitely not dumb.”

The writer shot him a glare that would’ve intimidated him if it hadn’t looked so adorable on her. “You know, you’re a lot more of a pain in the ass than the history books make you out to be.”

Just as he was prepared to say something flirtatious, his cell phone chimed with a notification and when he looked to see what it was, his heart sank in his chest and reality came crashing back down on him.

Nurse Alia: Mrs. Carter’s been having a rough day. Might do her some good to see an old familiar face.

Steve tucked his cell phone back into his pocket and looked back up at a confused (Y/N) with an apologetic expression on his face. “I’m sorry but I’ve gotta go, something just came up. I’ll try and make it for the end of the meeting, though.”

“Okay, I’ll be sure to let Sam know!” Their fingers brushed as he took the helmet from her and stowed it away, and she gave him a half-hearted wave as he revved the engine and backed out of the parking spot. He returned her wave and sped off down the street, the image of (Y/N) standing by herself on the sidewalk with a befuddled expression on her face burned into his memory while he navigated the streets of D.C. to reach Peggy’s retirement home. But while he drove, he recalled the way his heart lurched when (Y/N) smiled at him, how lovely her laughter sounded as he gave her her first ride on a motorcycle and just how – for the briefest of moments – he hadn’t felt so alone and unseen. Like sunshine breaking through a cloudy sky, he thought to himself once again, resolving to see the writer who uncovered Steve Rogers from beneath the façade of Captain America again as soon as he could.

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

A/N: This was my first time writing from Steve’s POV, so let me know how you liked it so I can decide if I wanna write from his POV in a future one-shot! Thank you all so much for reading and commenting, and I hope that you enjoyed it!

Spotify Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3ziGMhEsAw833GQ9eV44nR?si=6dfead09c76848d5

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