#rogers!reader

[raven-dor]

thinking of you

in which bucky barnes haunts the narrative …

PAIRING: bucky barnes x fem!reader, bucky barnes x rogers!reader

WARNINGS: angst galore, fluff, yearning, sneaking around, typical marvel violence, allusion to NSFW, cussing, fighting, death, ANGST ANGST ANGST

WORD COUNT: 6.8k

🎶 : thinking of you - katy perry

AN: i cried writing this, so... hope you enjoy!!

“James!” 

Mrs.Barnes’ voice echoed through the apartment, and you stilled, prying your lips away from Bucky’s. He whined, placing a finger under your chin, pulling you back toward him. You giggled, shaking your head as you tried to scold him. “Buck, she’s calling you.” 

His lips brushing against yours as he spoke. “C’mon, Doll.” His kiss was so tender, so gentle, that if you had been standing, your knees would have given out. “Just ignore her.” Before you knew it, he’d manhandled you beneath him, his arms caging you in. 

“That’s your mother.” You hissed, your hair sprawled beneath your frame as he stared at you. If you had asked Bucky, he would have told you you looked like an angel, with your hair acting as a halo. “She-” He kissed your neck, your breath hitching from the sensation. You tried to glare at him as he overwhelmed your senses. “We’re supposed to keep this a secret, James.” 

“Who is she going to tell? Besides, she doesn’t even know you’re-” 

“Is that a girl’s voice I hear?” 

Your eyes widened, shoving the boy away from you as you stood. “Hey!” He whined, dramatically falling against his mattress. You scoffed, fixing your appearance in front of the mirror, trying to make it look like their son hadn’t just kissed you senseless. Bucky laughed, admiring the view from his bed, the bed you’d just been on. 

You turned around, hands on your hips. “Is something funny?” 

“You don’t gotta fix yourself up for my family.” His voice was soft. “You’re beautiful.” 

“I do when you’ve made me look so- so-” You huffed, giving up on forming coherent thoughts. “Just stop looking at me like that.” 

He stood up, sauntering over until you were inches apart. His cologne engulfed your senses, chills running down your spine. “Like what, Doll?” 

“Like you want to eat me. You’re acting like a wolf.” 

He shrugged, slinging his arm around your waist and pulling you close. “Doesn’t sound like such a bad idea to me.” 

You gasped, shoving his chest and storming out of his bedroom. “Control yourself!” 

“That’s going to be difficult.” He whispered, following closely behind and preparing for his mother to shriek from the top of her lungs. “Mom. Pops.” His father hadn’t bothered to look up from his paper, listening to the radio absentmindedly. He’d hardly moved when he’d been greeted.  

Mrs.Barnes, however, was waiting at the end of the hall, a rolling pin in one hand and flour all over her apron. “James, what is she doing here?” She looked at you quickly, smiling brightly. “Not that we don’t love having you, sweetheart. My son forgot to inform me you’d be over.” 

“Thank you, Mrs.Barnes.” You smiled, stepping further away from Bucky when you realized how close he’d been standing. “I came by to return some perfume Rebecca lent me.” Your eyes dart toward the front door. “Now that I’ve done that, I should probably-” 

“Nonsense!” Your heart dropped as Mr.Barnes called out. “Come sit.” You looked back at Bucky, who was trying to hold in his laughter. You glared as he shooed you toward the living room. Sitting down on the couch in front of Mr.Barnes, you wished you had made a run for it when you had had the chance.

“So.” Mr.Barnes looked thoroughly entertained. Good, you thought. At least someone was. “How is your brother?” 

“Steven’s doing well; thank you for asking.” You smiled, guilt building up in your stomach at the thought of him. You and Bucky had been trying to keep this all a secret, but keeping a secret from your brother, and for Bucky, his best friend, was torture. 

“I was sorry to hear about your mother’s passing.” The older man frowned. “She was a sweet woman. Kind.” 

“She was.” You tried not to get choked up thinking about her. “We miss her every day.”

He smiled, a faraway look in his eye. “You look just like her. The spitting image. She was quite the beauty, you know.” 

Bucky's eyes almost popped out of his skull. “Pops!” 

“She was.” Mr.Barnes shook his head, coming back to reality. “And so are you.” 

You grinned, blush rising to the top of your cheeks. “You’re very sweet for saying that, sir.” 

“Have you found yourself a suitor-” 

Bucky stood up, clearing his throat. “She’s got to get home for dinner.” 

“She’s more than welcome-” 

“No, no.” Bucky shook his head. “Maybe Steve and her can come around another night.” You giggled, thanking both of his parents once more before Bucky guided you out of the apartment, shutting the door behind him. “I’m sorry about them.” 

“You don’t need to apologize.” You smiled. “They’re sweet; you’re lucky to have them.” Closing the distance between you, you kissed his cheek gently. “You’re sweet, too.” 

 He blushed, tilting his head. “I thought I was a wolf.”

You shrugged. “You can be both.” Pushing a stray hair out of his face, you kissed the corners of his mouth. “Strong and sweet.”  

He laughed, holding your hands in his. Looking down, he fidgeted with the ring that laid on your right hand. “Will I see you again?” 

You shrugged. “We’ll have to see, won’t we?” 

He looked back up, glaring playfully. “You’re coming to the Stark Expo with Steve, right?” You nodded. “I’ll see you there, then.” 

You smiled, walking back toward you and Steve’s apartment, making sure to sway your hips. “Goodbye, James.” 

“You enlisted?” You hissed, pulling Bucky by the arm into an alleyway, the dark of the night sheltering you from prying eyes. “Bucky-” 

“I wanted to, Doll.” His voice was soft. “Steve’s been trying for months-” 

“Steve has never gotten past the first round of examination, you know that. I know that.” Your arms were crossed, heart racing at the thought of your lover dying on the battlefield. “Do you have a death wish?”

 “Stop it.” Bucky frowned. “My father was in the war. Your father was in the war-” 

“My father was a drunk, and an abusive son of a bitch.” You scoffed. “Why you would want to be like him, I have no clue.” 

“That’s not fair, now is it?” He raised an eyebrow. “You know how much I hated him, how much we all hated him. I want to serve my country, to protect it. You should be proud of me.” 

“Of course, I’m proud of you.” You whispered. “But I’ve already lost my mother. I only have Steve, and I can’t-” Tears threatened to fall as you clung to his suit jacket. “I can’t lose you, too.” 

“You won’t.” He smiled, his thumb gently caressing your cheek. “I’d crawl out of hell itself to get back to you.” 

“Bucky.” Your heart fluttered, leaning into his touch. “Just promise me you won’t die.” 

He laughed, nodding. “I promise, Doll.”

“What unit?” Your voice was small, a mere whisper. “What unit have you been assigned to?” 

“The 107th.” He leaned his forehead against yours. “We’re set to leave for England first thing tomorrow.” 

Tears threatened to fall from your eyes as you spoke. “Write to me. So I know you’re alive.” 

“Of course.” He nodded. “Whatever you want, Doll. I’ll do whatever you want.” 

After your brother insisted on bringing you along on his worldwide tour, you began to miss home, the simplicity, the stability. Most of all, you began to miss Bucky like crazy. 

His letters had stopped coming weeks ago, and you couldn’t help but feel nauseous even thinking about it. The mere idea of him getting hurt was enough to send you into a fit of tears. 

It was dreary here, raining nonstop as you stared out the gray wasteland. Your brother wasn’t doing much better, the two of you staying up late, talking about your purpose, about how helpless you felt. He’d talked to you about Peggy, a woman he met during the experiment that turned him into the super-soldier he was today. You could tell she entranced him, more than any girl ever had. She’d approached you two after his most recent show, sensing his disappointment, explaining to him the notable difference in this crowds spirits. 

“Your audience contained all that was left of the 107th. The rest were either killed or captured.” 

“Are you sure it was the 107th?” You blurted out. “Absolutely sure?” 

“Yes?” She questioned. “Why? What is it?” 

“Steven…” You looked over at your brother, eyes filled with tears. “Wasn’t that Bucky’s unit?” 

You hadn’t believed it at first. The colonel had said it so casually, so emotionless, you could sworn he didn’t care about his men. Now Bucky could be dead in some ditch somewhere in the middle of Europe. Tears streamed down your cheeks, fists tight with rage. 

“What about the others?” Steve insisted, refusing to give up. “Are you planning a rescue mission?” 

“Yeah, it’s called winning the war.” 

“But if you know where they are, why not-” 

“They’re thirty miles behind the lines through some of the most heavily fortified territory in Europe. We’d lose more men than we’d save.” 

Perhaps it was the adrenaline, or the feeling of having nothing left to lose, because in a mere second, you were in front of the Colonel, poking your finger into his chest. “So you would rather stay back? Do you have no compassion, no empathy?” He just stared, and you scoffed. “Where’s your courage? Your bravery-” 

The Colonel raised his hand, stopping you in your tracks. His eyes, unlike when they looked at your brother, were soft, full of understanding. “I’m sure you loved Sergant Barnes very much, but I am not willing to sacrifice my troops for a handful of men. However good they may be. I’m sorry, miss, I am.” 

Maybe he did care, but you couldn’t find it in you to feel empathetic. “I don’t need your pity. And if you won’t do something about it, then we will.” Whipping around, you grabbed Steve’s hand, pulling him out of the tent. “C’mon.” 

“The last surveillance flight is back.” You looked up from the war table, watching as Peggy placed the resulting images in front of them, each and every one void of any evidence that could prove Steve was alive. That anyone in the 107th was alive. “No sign of activity.” 

“Go get a cup of coffee, Corporal.” The colonel waited until the tent was empty to speak. “I can’t touch Stark. He’s rich, and he’s the Army’s number one weapons contractor. You both are neither one.” 

“With respect, sir, I don’t regret my actions, and I don’t think Captain Rogers did, either.”  

“At least we did something.” You glared. “You would have rather sat by.”  

The Colonel whipped around, eyes wide. “Excuse me, young lady? And what makes you think I give a damn about your opinons, Agent Carter? I took a chance with you, and now, America’s golden boy and a lot of other good men are dead 'cause you had a crush.” 

“It wasn’t that. I had faith.” 

“Well I hope that’s of comfort to you when they shut this division down.” He frowned. “Now what the hell is going on out there?” 

You turned around, wiping the tears from your cheeks. “Is it-” Peggy nodded, grabbing your hand and pulling you through the crowd. “Peg, wait.” 

“What is it?” 

“I just-” You took a deep breath. “I just need a moment.” 

“Are you alright?” 

You nodded. “I’m fine, go on. I’ll catch up.” 

Your eyes were fixated on Bucky as you walked through the crowd, taking him in like it was your job. He was dirty, a little bloody, but there, there and alive. As he cheered your brother on, smiling brightly, tears fell. God, he was beautiful. 

You waited for Bucky’s eyes to reach yours, refusing to interrupt. He was celebrating, you didn’t want to take that away from him. It was nice seeing him so happy. 

You hadn’t seen him happy in so long. 

You hadn’t seen him in so long. 

Steve noticed you before Bucky had, waving you over. You grinned, hugging him tightly. “A little late, aren’t you?” 

He laughed. “I got here, didn’t I?” 

Bucky’s eyes were wide, shocked to see that his lover was here in the middle of war. Your brother let go of you, immediately finding Peggy.

You crossed your arms, eyes watery as you stood in front of the rescued soldier. “Bucky.” 

“Hi, Doll.” His voice was rough, no doubt from what he’d experienced while held hostage. 

“You’re alive.”

“I am.” He nodded, half convinced that you were a dream, a horrible illusion of the light. “You’re really here, right?” 

“Yeah, Buck.” You nodded. “I’m here.” 

His beautiful icy blue eyes welled with tears, walking forward and wrapping you in his arms. “Why are you here?”

You shoved your face into his neck. “Steve brought me along.” 

“It’s not safe over here.” He leaned his head against yours, taking in your perfume. “He should know that.” 

“I’m fine, Bucky.” You smiled to yourself. “I’m alive, aren’t I?” 

He nodded, his hand tightening around your waist. “Alright, alright. Let me look at you.” You brushed your fingers through your hair, hyper-aware of your appearance now that Bucky was staring at you so intensely. “I haven’t been-” 

“You look beautiful.” His tone was serious, the most serious you’d ever heard him. 

“Stop it.” You shoved his chest playfully. “I’m a mess.” 

“You’re here with me, that’s perfect. You also look devastatingly gorgeous.” You felt faint, his love and affection making you all warm inside. He reached into his coat pocket, pulling out a crumpled letter. “I was going to send it-”

“You were busy.” You smiled, your fingers grazing his. “You don’t need to explain yourself.”

“Did I worry you?” He frowned, caressing your cheek. “Have you been crying?” 

“It doesn’t matter.” You smiled, leaning into his touch. “You kept our promise.”  

He nodded, one arm still wrapped around your waist. “I told you I’d come back to you, didn’t I?” 

You heard the rowdy soldiers from outside the bar, all too drunk for their own good. You smiled as one of them opened the door, hanging your coat on the already full rack and making your way to the back, only one goal on your mind. You hadn’t seen him since he’d returned from captivity, since you’d reunited, and you craved his touch, his attention, and most of all, his kiss. 

He looked the very model of a sergeant, his hair slick and uniform freshly pressed. You took a deep breath, straightening your posture as you approached him. 

“Sergeant Barnes.”

He turned in his seat, a wolfish smile gracing his otherwise angelic face. “Ma’am.” 

You sat beside him, waving down the bartender. “A Manhattan, please.” 

“Coming right up.” 

You looked back at Bucky, blushing as he looked you up and down, his eyes dangerous, full of something you didn’t want to address at the moment. “Where’d this little piece come from?” 

“This old thing?” You looked down at the dress, frowning. “Do you not like it?” 

“Doll…” He practically growled, pulling your chair closer, a gasp leaving your lips. “What do you say we get out of here?” 

“James.” You hissed. “I just got here.” 

“That’s fine with me. Too many of these nitwits are looking at you anyway.” 

You smiled, taking your drink from the bartender’s hand. “Let them look. I’m not interested.” 

“Oh?” He raised an eyebrow. “And who are you interested in?” 

“You wouldn’t know him.” You raised your drink, taking a sip. “He’s devilshly handsome.” 

“Yeah?” He leaned in, his cologne engulfing your senses. 

You nodded. “Smart, too. And kind.” 

“He sounds like a great guy.” Bucky’s eyes left yours, landing on your lips for just a moment before looking back up. “Lucky, too.” 

“Oh, he is.” You stood up, straightening your dress. “Now, if you’ll excuse me-” 

“Dance with me.” He blurted out. “This guy can wait a couple minutes.” His hand was outstretched, waiting for you to take it. How could you not, when he looked like that?

“If you insist.” He led you to the dance floor, the band playing something nice and slow. You leaned your head against his chest, eyes fluttering shut. “I haven’t seen you lately.” 

“I tried.” He murmured. “I tried, but it was never the right time.” 

“I understand.” You swayed a moment before speaking again. “How is he?” 

Bucky sighed. “Stressed. You know him; he wants to protect everyone.” 

“Sounds like Steve.”

“I-” Bucky sounded nervous. “I wanted to kiss you. When we got back from the rescue mission.” 

“Why didn’t you?” 

“You know why.” He paused. “I wish I would have.” 

You looked up, eyes full of desperation. “You still can.” 

“Yeah?” He grinned. “Steve’s here, you know.” 

“I don’t care.” You wanted him to kiss you, to take you away and- You blushed simply thinking about it. “You wanna get out of here?” 

He nodded, pulling you off the dance floor, and grabbed his suit jacket, draping it over your shoulders. “Where are we off to?” 

“Any suggestions?” 

He hooked your arm through his, his smirk growing from your reaction. “I’ve never been to London.” 

“It’s beautiful here.” You stayed close to his side. “Peggy’s been showing me around.” 

Bucky wiggled his eyebrows. “How’s she and Steve doing?” 

You laughed. “Not much is happening. My brother is brave, but when it comes to Peggy-” You shook your head. “She’ll have to make the first move.” 

Bucky gasped, clutching his chest. “Such little faith.” 

“Do you disagree?” 

“This serum, it’s made him- bolder.” He shrugged, stopping in his tracks and spinning you towards him. “Maybe he’ll make a move, who knows?” 

“And will you?” Your heart was beating a million miles a minute, eyes drifting to his lips. “Make a move, that is?” 

“Depends.” His breath colliding with yours, your lips inches apart. “Where are we goin’?” 

You smirked, kissed him so quickly he swore it hadn’t happened, and walked away. “My apartment.” The implication of your invite hadn’t truly hit him until you were a few paces away, fishing out your keys from your pocket and unlocking your door. You looked over your shoulder expectantly. “Are you coming?” 

Bucky was on you in an instant, pushing you against the door and kissing you hard. It was passionate, full of need, of want. Full of love, of an unspoken promise to never leave you. He pulled away, breath short as he spoke. “Does that answer your question?” 

Your day had been a rollercoaster; that much you were sure of. But the last moments, the one before your brother and Bucky had left for the mission, they’d been perfect. So perfect, you hadn’t expected anything to bring you down from the high you’d felt. 

So much for believing.

Peggy and you stood in the debriefing room, as usual, waiting for any word, any sign they were okay. You paced around the debriefing room, as you always did when your boys left, fidgeting with the dog tags that Bucky had left you. You felt ecstatic from earlier, but something was off.

Something was different. 

There was this pit in the bottom of your stomach, something that had always been there, but it was growing, never settling. The adrenaline, the high you were riding on from earlier, it did nothing to ease your anxiety. If anything, it had made it worse. This had made you pace ever faster, fidgeting with your lover’s dog tags like it was the last thing you had of him. 

And when Steve walked in the room, eyes red and puffy, face sullen, you knew. You sank to the ground, all of the adrenaline leaving you instantly, dread and grief leaving you in waves. You sobbed and sobbed, one bloodcurdling cry after the other. Steve hadn’t even had the energy to comfort you, just sitting there and staring at the wall. 

The Rogers had been broken that day, shaken to their very core. 

Because Bucky was dead. 

You clutched his dog tags in your hands, curled up in his bed, hoping they would wake you from this horrible nightmare, that he would show up at your door, and you could see him one last time. 

(1950)

“Miss?” 

You ignored the boy who followed after you, almost late to your staff meeting. He was persistent, you would give him that. 

“Miss?” 

“That’s agent, to you.” You hadn’t bothered to look over at him, still walking through the hallway with purpose.

The cadet smiled. “I- I just have to say-” 

“Spit it out, will you?” You raised an eyebrow, surprised to see that ‘the boy’ was not just a boy, but a man, a tall, handsome man. Still, you showed no sign of interest.

“You’re beautiful.” 

“That is highly inappropriate.” 

“I call like I see it, ma’am.” 

You scoffed, picking up your pace. “You have no shame, do you?” 

“No, ma’am.” He was still smiling, grinning actually. “Can I take you to dinner sometime?” 

The conference room was within reach, you could see Peggy talking to Colonel Phillips. You sighed, stopping just outside of the door. “I’m sure you’re a nice man-” He nodded, and you almost laughed. “But I’m afraid I must decline.” 

“Ah.” he frowned. “He’s a lucky man.” 

Your heart twisted, nodding slowly. “He was.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

His mischievous demeanor had fallen, pity developing instead. You hated that look, when people stared at you like you were fragile, like you were about to cry at the drop of a hat. “Yes, well, it wasn’t your fault.”

“Still-” 

“Agent Rogers.” Colonel Phillips had his arms crossed, an impatient look on his face. “Will you be joining us anytime soon?” 

“Agent Rogers?” The cadet looked shocked. “Like Steve Rogers? Captain America, Steve Rogers?” 

“The very same.” The colonel tapped his foot, waiting for an answer. “I’m right behind you, sir.” You smiled gratefully, walking past the cadet without a second glance. The Colonel shut the door behind you, a strange sort of look in his eye. 

“You’re welcome.” 

You laughed. “Was that really necessary?” 

“Looked like you needed saving.” The old man grumbled. “What’s the young man’s name?” 

“I don’t know.” You weren’t lying, you had never caught the cadet’s name. “All I know is that I was late because he kept following me around.” 

Peggy raised an eyebrow. “Following you?” 

The whole room was now staring at you, and you blushed, eyes wide as you tried to signal that you did not want to talk about this here. “We’ll talk later, Peg.” 

Colonel Phillips cleared his throat. “Alright, alright, enough gabbing.” You laughed, sitting up straight. “May I start the debrief now?” 

You nodded, giving him your full attention. “Ready when you are, Colonel.” 

He’d approached you three times after that, each time slowly weakening your resolve. He wasn’t horrible; easy on the eyes, smart, and kind. 

Still, you couldn’t do it; every time you felt a twinge of interest, your mind became clouded with memories of Bucky. He’d been your one great love, everything went back to him. The way you did your makeup, your hair, your clothes - all because of him. And it wasn’t even because of him directly saying anything, he would have never said something like that. 

It was the small moments, when he told you how beautiful you looked in navy blue, so you made sure to buy more of the color. When he said he loved the lipstick you were wearing because it tasted like cherries so you bought three more of the same shade. When he told you he loved your hair wild and free, that it reminded him of your summer trips to the beach, just the two of you. 

And it was worse when you drove home every night. Brooklyn had memories of Bucky at every turn, every alley. 

Your sandwich tasted dull, partially due to the fact it was ham and cheese and partially because your appetite, like most days, had been ruined by your thoughts of Bucky. 

You neatly packed your sandwich back into your lunchbox and leaned your head back, taking in the soft glow of the spring sun.

“Agent Rogers. Mind if I sit?” You shook your head. A comfortable silence fell over the two of you before he spoke again. “Were you close with your brother?” 

“As close as you can be. He’s older than me by two years. Our father was less than kind, and Steve took it upon himself to protect me. And our mother.” You stared into the distance, reminiscing. “He was always fighting.” 

The cadet smiled. “Sounds like he was a good man.” 

“He is- he was.” 

“He would have been proud of you. Of what you’re doing.” Your eyes welled, and you nodded, not having the strength to speak. “If you need to talk, just know that I’m here for you.” He placed his hand on your knee, squeezing it quickly. “I promise it’ll get better, Doll.” 

You sighed, leaning your head on his shoulder, almost laughing at the way he tensed up. His arm tentatively went around your shoulders, pulling you closer. 

“What’s your name?” You whispered. “I just realized, I never asked.” 

“Micheal Anderson.” 

“Thank you, Micheal.” 

“For what?” He looked down, voice soft. 

“For listening.” 

He smiled, leaning his head on top of yours. “Anytime.” 

“What are you doing this Saturday?” You reached out, grabbing his hand and lacing your fingers through his. “I heard about-” 

“I’ll do anything you ask.” Michael blurted out, cheeks red. “Anything.” 

You grinned, forgetting that the last man who’d said that to you was Bucky. 

(1951)

This was a horrible idea. A horrible idea indeed. You stared down at Bucky’s dogtags, heart breaking at the sight. Bringing them up to your lips, you kissed them gently, eyes closed tightly. 

Marriage was something you’d always expected, something you always knew would happen. You also always knew you would marry Bucky. 

Or at least, you’d planned on it. 

“Where do you see yourself in ten years?” You’d whispered, legs tangled with Bucky’s beneath your sheets. The bed was desheveled, not that either of you cared. His eyes bore into yours, both of you facing each other with giddy smiles on your faces. 

“Married. Two kids, a house.” He sighed. “That’s the dream.” 

“Marriage?” You wiggled your eyebrows. “Who’s the lucky gal?” 

He frowned, pulling you closer. “You know who it is, Doll.” 

You frowned back, your hands on his chest. “Don’t tease, Bucky.” 

“I’m not.” He looked sincere. “I would never tease you about this.” His nose nudged yours, voice so fragile you thought it would break. “I love you.” 

“I know you do.” You smiled. “But you don’t really mean that.” 

“Yes, I do. I do mean that.” He pushed a hair out of your eyes, all remnants of humor gone. “I love you, and I want to marry you.” He kissed you gently, lips barely touching. “Be prepared.” 

You giggled, throwing your head back. “I’ll try my hardest.” 

He nodded. “Damn, right. You’re gonna grow old with me.” 

“Bucky…” Your eyes were watering. “You’re sappy in the morning.” 

“What can I say? You make me sappy.” His fingers bore into your hips, and you wiggled in his hold. “Now come here.” 

 “Are you ready?” 

You opened your eyes, looking over at your maid of honor. “Just a second, Peggy.” 

She smiled, giving you a look of understanding. “He would have wanted you to do this, you know.” 

“I know.” You frowned, looking back at his dog tags. “It just hurts.” 

“Of course it does.” She nodded. “Take your time, alright?” 

You stood up, taking off the dog tags and placing them in your pocket. “No need. Im ready.” 

(1957)

“One moment!” You yelled, trying not to cry from the amount of noise your children produced. “Honey!” Micheal’s head peaked out from around the corner. “Could you please take the children to the nursery?” 

He nodded, running toward your children, the toddlers screeching with delight. “Don’t let the monster get you!” 

“No, Dada, no!” Your daughter giggled, grabbing her little sister’s hand. “No!” 

“Thank you, Micheal.” You looked down at the baby in your arms, cooing at his little face. “Let’s go see your Auntie, yeah?” You smoothed your hair before opening the front door, grinning brightly. “Rebecca, please come in!” 

“You have a beautiful home.” Rebecca smiled. “I’m so glad I could come by.” 

“You’re welcome anytime.” You insisted. “Michael and I host game nights every Thursday. You should swing by.” 

“I’ll try.” You knew she wouldn’t, but you still offered. “Who’s this little one?” 

You smiled, sitting down on the couch, Rebecca sitting next to you. “I hope you won’t be upset.” 

“Why would I be upset?” Rebbeca frowned, placing a comforting hand on your arm. “You can tell me.” 

“His name…” You looked down, eyes watery. “His name is James.” Rebecca’s hold on your forearm tightened, her eyes welling with tears. “James Steven Rogers-Anderson.” 

“Oh my,” Rebecca whispered, both of you crying. “Honey-” 

“I wanted to keep him alive, here with us.” Your voice was weak, weak with grief that had never really left you. “What better way than this?” 

“He would be honored.” Rebecca reached out, James wrapping his tiny hand around her finger. “He loved you so much.” 

“I know.” You cried, smiling at your son who was babbling. “I loved him just as much.” 

(1970)

“Hail Hydra.” 

In some odd way, you wished you hadn’t heard them. You wished you had gone on ignorant, and you didn’t hear that dreaded phrase. Unfortunately, you had, and now, you had to do something about it. 

You peeked through the shelves, watching as the two secret agents left the old office, sneaking inside and carefully looking through their desks for evidence. You hadn’t expected to find anything; they may be Hydra agents, but they weren’t stupid. They’d gone this long without being caught. 

Just when you’d begun to give up hope, simply running your fingers across the edges of the desk, a hatch opened, a key falling to the ground. You smirked, picking the key up and looking around the room for a lock. “Still got it.” 

“Kiddos?” You yelled, slamming the door shut. “You guys home?” 

“Mom?” Your kids called out, not bothering to leave the living room couch. In any other circumstance, you wouldn’t have cared. This was no other circumstance. “What’s up?” 

“Time to go.” You yelled out, grabbing your backup gun from the safe. “Grab your go bags.” 

“Our go bags?” Your eldest daughter stood in front of you, frowning. “Mom, what’s going on?” 

You frowned, kissing her cheek quickly. “No time to explain, alright? Just grab your bags.” You walked into the living room, addressing your youngest daughter. “Where’s your brother, Char?” 

“He’s outside.” Her eyebrows were furrowed. “What’s going on?” 

Liz scoffed. “Can you just listen to Mom, Charlotte?” 

Charlotte rolled her eyes, sticking her tongue out at her sister. “You’re not the boss of-” You walked outside, smiling at your son. He was the spitting image of his uncle, sitting in his tree house alone, doodling the time away. “Honey?” You called out, your voice hoarse. “Can you come down, please?” 

He nodded, leaving his sketchbook behind. “Hey, Mom.” He hugged you quickly. “How was work?” 

“Fine.” You forced yourself to calm down. “Can you get your go bag for me?” 

He nodded. “I’ll be right back.” 

You watched as he ran inside, taking in every excruciating detail. Your daughter’s voices, the sound of your old white cat purring as she rubbed against your leg, the trees rustling, the house. 

This horrible feeling festered at the bottom of your stomach as your home fell out of view in the rearview mirror.

Because somehow you knew you wouldn’t be coming back, that that had been the last time you walked through the front door, that you saw your children at peace.

They whined when you told them you had to leave. You hadn’t blamed them, you would have done the same. 

“Mom?” Elizabeth’s voice was stern. “You have to tell us what’s going on.” 

“Please,” Charlotte added. “You forgot to say please.” 

James frowned. “Did something happen?” 

You sighed. “I can’t tell you anything; you know that. If-” Your voice broke. “If I don’t come back by tomorrow, call this number.” 

“If you don’t come back?” James crossed his arms. “Mom, what the hell-” 

“It’s gonna be okay.” You smiled, caressing his cheek. “Take care of yourselves, alright? You know what to do if things go south.” 

“Mom-” Charlotte cried. “You’re scaring me.” 

“I’m sorry, baby.” You hugged her tightly. “I’m sorry, but you have to trust me, okay?” 

Elizabeth stood strong, but you could tell she wanted to cling to you like she used to. You let go of Charlotte, holding your eldest’s hands in yours. “Liz, promise me something.” 

“Anything.” She responded, squeezing your hands tightly. “Anything, Mom. Name it.” 

“Don’t give up on your dreams. And do not go to community college just so you can take care of your father.” 

“Mom-” 

“Let me finish.” You raised an eyebrow. “You’re a smart girl, Lizzie. Your father can take care of himself, of your siblings. You are not me, and I don’t want you to be.” 

“Mom, you’re acting like you’re gonna-” She swallowed, eyes welling. “Please just stay-” 

“Promise me, young lady.” 

“I-” She nodded. “I promise.” 

“Good.” You nodded, hugging her tightly. “Good girl.” 

You’d rushed out of the door, racing down the road. You could only think of two people you could trust in this situation, and one of them was currently in London, visiting her dying mother. You grabbed your car phone, dialing the second number. 

“Hello-” 

“Fury-” 

“This is Nick Fury’s voicemail.” You groaned, waiting for the machine to beep. 

“Fury, this is Agent Rogers. Something is wrong, something is seriously-” You squinted, swerving off the road. “Shit!” A man dressed in all black leather and a mask stood in the middle of the lane, directly in your way. Crashing into the guardrail, your head slammed against the steering wheel, knocking you unconscious. 

Your head throbbed as you reached up, trying to relieve the pain. Your hands felt wet, most likely wet with your blood. Forcing yourself to open your eyes, the damage to your car was catastrophic. There was no way in hell you were going to be able to reach Fury or even escape whoever had run you off the road.

The man from the road was now stalking toward your car, and you wished you’d have hit him. Scrambling for your gun, you set off two warning shots in his direction. The man’s eyes widened, momentarily stopping his assent. You clawed at your seatbelt, pushing open the passenger side door and running onto the road. 

You’d gotten farther than you thought when a bullet ripped through your leg, your body dropping to the ground like a marionette. Tears fell like hot streams down your face, crawling on the concrete. A sob left your lips as you watched the man slowly walk toward you; he wasn’t even trying. Forcing yourself to stand, you faced him with your gun aimed straight for his head. In a millisecond, he raised his arm, blocking the bullet. It fell to the ground, crumpled like it had been made of paper. 

You shot again and again until he was right in front of you. His eyes, icy blue and numb, bore into yours, a chill running down your spine. His hand shot out, grabbing your neck and lifting you. You gasped, the air leaving your lungs the longer he held you. You clawed at his hand, but he showed no sign of pain, simply blankly staring at you. 

When the fight began to leave you, when you stopped clawing, he dropped you, your body crumbling to the ground. 

His shadow covered you, still staring at you as you struggled to breathe. You jumped up, grabbing at his mask and ripping it off his face. “If you’re going to kill me, you might as well-” The air left your lungs, and you wiped the tears from your face, squinting as if it had been a trick of the light. 

It- You coughed once more, tilting your head. It couldn’t be. 

“Bucky?” 

(1945)

“You’re being irrational.” Bucky raised an eyebrow, his smirk nowhere to be seen. 

“Well, you’re being reckless.” You scoffed, crossing your arms. “I have a horrible feeling about this mission. If you would just listen to me-” 

“Doll.” He interrupted. “We’ve done this sort of mission a thousand times-” 

“You’re not listening!” You yelled. “You don’t- I’m telling you-” 

“Tell me again then!” His arms flailed as he spoke. “Since I didn’t understand the first time.” 

“Don’t be an ass.” You glared. “They’re vengeful. You just took out all of their most important bases.” Your resolve weakened, voice cracking. “What if they take you again?” 

“Is that what this is about?” He frowned. “Doll, it’ll be alright. I won’t let them-” 

“No.” You shook your head. “And if you won’t listen to me, then we have nothing more to talk about.” 

“Don’t do this. Don’t walk away.”

“Try and stop me.” You hissed.

“Doll!” He yelled after you, almost laughing when you flipped him off. Almost. “Goddamn it.” The locker room was quiet, the rest of the Commandos already on the plane. Opening his locker, he stared at the photo he’d had framed of you two - from your first beach day.

“What’s wrong with you?” 

He jumped, shoving the photo underneath a towel. “Nothing.” He turned around, forcing himself to smile at his best friend. “Nothing at all.” 

Steve raised an eyebrow. “I know.” 

Bucky laughed, turning back toward his locker and pulling out his uniform. “Know what, pal?” 

“About you two.” Steve’s face was unreadable, Bucky determined. His, however, was fully transparent. “I’ve known for a while now.” 

“Yeah?” He prepared to get socked in the face. And now, thanks to the serum, it would hurt. “How long is a while?” 

“Two years.” Steve crossed his arms. “Is that a while to you?” 

“Steve, I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t apologize.” He walked across the room, opening his locker. “I’m not mad, honest.” 

“Yeah?” Bucky laughed. “We were going to tell you, I swear.” 

“Buck, it’s fine.” Steve laughed, placing a hand on his friend's shoulder. “I’m glad it’s you.” 

“I-” Bucky’s eyes darted towards the doorway. “I gotta go.” 

“Tell her I’m happy.” Steve smiled. “Really happy.” 

“I will,” Bucky yelled over his shoulder, running out of the locker room and past the war table, slamming her office door open. 

“Jesus, Bucky!” You gasped, clutching your chest. “You can’t just-” 

He stalked over, grabbing your waist and kissing you firmly. Your eyes widened, pulling away as you gasped for air. “What was that for?” 

“Marry me.” He whispered, kissing you again. “Marry me.” 

“Bucky!” You laughed, convinced this was a dream. “You can’t just kiss your way out of this!”

“That is not my intention, but I swear if you marry me I’ll do whatever you say for the rest of our lives.”

“What’s gotten into you?” You reached up, trying to feel his temperature.

“The ring’s at home but-” 

“The ring? Bucky, how long have you-” 

“Ever since I enlisted.” He grinned. “It wasn’t a hard decision. I love you, and I-” 

You looked into his eyes, trying to figure out if he was being serious. “Is this real?” 

“Yeah, Doll.” He nodded. “It’s real. I don’t have the ring right now, I didn’t want to lose it while I was here, but I have this as a placeholder.” He pulled his dog tags out, placing them around your neck. “Hold onto to these until I come back.” 

You grinned, eyes watery. “I don’t know what to say.” 

“Say yes.” He pulled up close, eyes desperate, fully prepared to convince you. “I wasn’t lying. Remember, two weeks ago? I want it all, the house, the kids, the dog-” 

“Or cat-”

He sighed. “Or cat. I want it. With you.” 

He was practically bouncing, nervously squeezing your waist. You giggled, reaching up to fix his hair, which had fallen out of place the first or second time he’d kissed you. “I want that too, Bucky.” 

He grinned, his hand holding your chin, bringing your mouth to his. “I’m never letting you go.” 

You laughed, kissing him between what felt like each word, your back against the wall. “You have to go. You’re going to be late.” 

“Alright, alright.” He’d almost made it to the door when he turned back around, kissing you once more, the collision almost making you fall backwards. “I’ll be back.” 

You were a mess, grinning wildly and clutching his dog tags as he ran to the plane. “Come back to me in one piece, Barnes!” 

(1970)

The sky was dark, clouds hiding any source of light the moon had to offer. Her breath had left her minutes ago, eyes fixed on him. It was curious, the name she’d uttered moments before he had finished his mission. 

Bucky. Who the hell was Bucky?

The Winter Soldier tilted his head, a silver glint from around her neck catching his eye. Reaching down, he pulled the necklace from her cold frame, old dog tags and a ring hanging from the chain.

James B Barnes

32557038 T41

R. Barnes

3092 Stockton Road P

“Mission report.” The comm crackled, pulling his focus from the tag. He glanced down at the woman once more before the voice spoke again.“Soldat-” 

“On route.” He wrapped the tags around his neck, walking into the woods, police sirens approaching from the distance, their lights illuminating the road. “Mission complete.” 

taglist:

[literaryavenger]

Birthday Kiss

Summary: It's Bucky's birthday and he decides to spend it with his best friend, Steve, and Steve's little sister, you.

Pairing: 40s!Bucky Barnes x Rogers!Reader, Brother!Steve Rogers x Sister!Reader

Warnings: Angst. Idiots in love. Fluff. Vague mentions to sex. Language 'cause I can't help myself. My poor attempts at being funny.

Word Count: 3.4K

Prompt: "So what should I say?" "when?" "when I love someone." "you should say it"

A/N: Since it's almost Bucky's birthday I wanted to celebrate it with my first fic with 40s Bucky! He's one of my favorite Buckys and I've been wanting to write about him for a while and I finally got this idea! Hope someone enjoys it! In my mind this happens like a year before Captain America: The First Avenger, so Bucky is turning 25, Steve is 23 and the Reader is 21, but you can always imagine any age you want. As always, any ideas for fics are appreciated!

Masterlist

You enter the room to see Bucky is hanging out in yours and Steve's apartment, like he always does, sitting down at the window, smoking a cigarette and reading the evening newspaper while a football game plays on the television in the living room and Steve sits on the couch, drawing on his notebook.

You're used to Bucky being here, he's your big brother's best friend and you've come to be very close friends with him too, even if you wished there was more.

As clichè as it is to have a crush on your brother's best friend, you couldn't help it. He was handsome and funny, and he's always sweet and protective of you.

You've known him since you were 9 years old, and he's the only family you have left other than Steve.

"Is this really how you're going to spend your birthday?" You ask Bucky as you sit on the couch next to Steve.

Bucky turns around towards you with a bright smile, his blue eyes lighting up as soon as he sees you, like they always do whenever he's around you.

He puts out the cigarette and stands up, walking over to you, sitting down on your other side and pulling you into a side hug.

"Hey, doll. I didn't think you were gonna be here today." He says, although he seems more happily surprised by your presence than disappointed.

"I live here, Barnes." You tease him with a smile. "Unlike you."

He rolls his eyes playfully as Steve snickers next to you while he keeps drawing. "I know that. I meant, I thought you were gonna be out with your friends tonight."

"I didn't feel like it." You dismiss him quickly, not wanting to actually say out loud that you'd rather spend his birthday with him doing nothing than go out with your friends, so you try to casually change the subject. "I thought you'd at least want to spend today with Dot."

Dot isn't actually Bucky's girlfriend, they've been on a few dates and you've seen them together a couple of times, but Bucky introduced her to you as a friend so you don't think they're that serious.

Not that Bucky ever is, girls are always all over him and he takes advantage of that. He's a ladies man.

But you try not to worry too much about his love life, not wanting to hurt yourself more than knowing Bucky will never see you like that already does.

"Well, I wanted to spend my birthday with my favorite pair of siblings. She can give me my birthday kiss tomorrow." He says with a grin while ruffling your hair.

"So... What's been going on with you lately, doll? Anything interesting happening in your life?" He asks curiously after a pause, genuinely wanting to know more about your day-to-day activities and experiences.

"I... Well, I went on my first date." You say shyly while playing with the edge of your dress.

Bucky's eyes widen in surprise, his interest piqued by your sudden confession. "First date? Who was it with? How'd it go?" He asks with what seems like excitement but mentally preparing himself to potentially become jealous or possessive no matter who you mention.

"It was fine..." You say quietly, still not looking at him. "It just wasn't... It wasn't what I was expecting..."

Bucky senses something off in your tone and expression, and immediately becomes concerned. He places a gentle hand on your knee, trying to comfort you without making it too obvious.

"What happened, doll? Did things not go as well as you hoped they would? Are you feeling okay?" He asks softly, trying to gauge whether or not you want to open up about what happened during your date and if there's anything he can do to make it better.

You don't really know how to answer his question, so you don't, simply glancing at him before looking away and shrugging.

"Tell me what happened, I'm here for you no matter what. If that guy hurt your feelings or made you uncomfortable, I'll kick his ass for sure." He promises fiercely, his protective instincts kicking into high gear whenever you seem vulnerable or upset.

You giggle weakly at his protectiveness but still don't look at him, so he takes your chin gently but firmly and makes you look at him. "Tell me what happened on your date. Was it some creep who tried to grope you or something worse? Because if he did, I swear to god I will find him and break his fucking legs."

"That's not it, Bucky." You say quickly. "It's just... He just... He wasn't..." You. He wasn't you. That's what you want to tell him, but you can't, so you sigh and shrug again. "He just wasn't my type."

Bucky knew what was your type. He knew he was your type, he has seen you ogle him countless times when he walked past you or sat near you.

He also knew that you had never shown any interest in any of the men who approached you, always dismissing them as not good enough for you. Or at least that's why he thought you did.

Glancing at Steve before looking back at you again, Bucky says quietly. "Well, that's too bad for him I guess."

"It doesn't matter, I'm not seeing him again." I say quietly, avoiding both Steve and Bucky's eyes.

Bucky's brow furrowed in confusion, he couldn't believe you were so quick to give up on a potential relationship just because the guy didn't live up to your impossible standards.

"Doll, you gotta give guys more of a chance. They ain't all as bad as you seem to think they are." He scolds you playfully, but there was also a hint of underlying irritation in his tone as he takes a long sip from his beer bottle.

You glance at him before looking away again. "So... You think I should go on another date with that guy?" You ask quietly.

Bucky thought for a moment, weighing the pros and cons of pushing you to go on another date with the mystery guy. "Yeah, actually. I mean, if you think he's worth giving a second chance, then why not? And if he turns out to be a total dud again, then at least you can say you gave it a shot. But only if you're really sure he's worth your time though. Don't waste it on some loser who doesn't appreciate everything you have to offer."

He advised you, trying to strike a balance between being supportive and challenging you to take risks when it came to relationships. "But whatever you decide, don't let me pressure you into doing something you don't want to do. You've gotta follow your heart, doll."

"You know, Stevie doesn't care this much about who I date, and he's my older brother." You tease Bucky while glancing at Steve.

Bucky snorts in amusement, "Yeah well, I'm not your brother, sweetheart, but I'm your friend and your wingman, and I'll be damned if I'm gonna sit back and watch you throw away a potential chance to be happy. Now come on, make up your mind already. Are you gonna give the guy another chance or not?" He pressed, playfully but determinedly.

You look at his face for a moment before looking away again and sighing. "I'm not." You say quietly but firmly. "I'm not going on a second date with that guy." You clarify.

Bucky felt his jaw tighten a little as he realized that you had completely ignored his previous suggestion and were instead deciding against giving the guy a second chance.

He didn't like the idea of you potentially missing out on something good due to your own stubbornness, but he also knew that he couldn't force you to do anything you didn't truly want to do.

"Well, fuck. Guess that settles that then," He said after a moment of silence, trying to hide his disappointment but failing miserably. "You're really gonna just throw that opportunity away? Fine, suit yourself, I guess. But don't expect me to hold your hand or anything when you get sad because you're alone. You're on your own with that shit."

"I guess I am." You say quietly before getting up from the couch and going to the window, climbing into the emergency staircase to go up to the roof, like you do most nights to watch the stars.

Bucky watches you leave, feeling a mix of frustration and concern as he realizes that you're retreating to your usual spot on the roof rather than staying and talking to him.

He wants to call after you, to make sure you're okay, but he knows better than to push you if you need time alone.

Instead, he takes a deep breath and tries to focus on the present moment, reminding himself that sometimes people need space and time to themselves.

"Fine. Have it your way," he calls after you, knowing that there isn't much else he can do in this situation. "But don't think for a second that I won't be keeping an eye on you up there. You better not try anything stupid."

You roll your eyes but don't stop, going up to the roof, that's right above yours and Steve's apartment, and sitting on the picnic blanket you and Steve use every night.

After a few minutes someone else comes to the roof and you can tell it's Steve by the light steps. "You sure you want to let Bucky alone in our apartment, Stevie? I'm afraid he might burn it down." You joke weakly without turning around to look at him, your eyes locked in the city's skyline.

Steve chuckles and you can feel him sitting down next to you. It's not the first time you sit together on the roof, everybody in your apartment building knows this is the Rogers siblings' spot.

You don't say anything and neither does Steve, and you're especially glad he doesn't say anything when he sees a tear falling down your cheek but simply wraps his arm around you as you lay your head on his shoulder.

"What's going on in your head, little sis?" Steve asks you after you stop crying.

You try to gather your thoughts, trying to find a way to make sense of everything swirling in your head. You take a deep breath before you pull away slightly and turn your head towards the city again. "What should I say?" You ask quietly.

"When?" Steve asks with a frown.

"When I love someone." I clarify looking back at him.

"You should say it." He tells you firmly. It's not the first time you've talked about this, Steve knows about your feelings for Bucky and like a good big brother he always tells you to express yourself. "You should tell him."

You sigh and look away from him and back to the New York skyline. "I don't know, Stevie..."

"Why not, Bambi?" You smile softly at his use of your childhood nickname because Bambi is your favorite book, but then you shake your head.

"Have you seen the way he looks at Dot? I have no chance with him. I'm not his type." You say with conviction.

"You really don't see it?" Steve ask, getting a little frustrated.

"See what?" You ask confusedly while looking back at him.

"The difference between you and her is that he looks at her like she's the prettiest girl in the world," Steve says and your heart sinks so you look away from him, but he still goes on. "but when he looks at you it's like... It's like maybe you're magic. He looks at you with such reverence and respect. He looks at you like if he could just have you in his arms, everything would be okay. Like if he had you, nothing could touch him. He looks at you like he just realized what love is."

Steve pauses and grabs your chin gently to make you look at him before finishing. "He loves you. Anyone can see that. You're just too blind to notice it."

Steve kisses your forehead and then gets up and goes back inside to the apartment, leaving you to think about everything he said.

You lay down on the picnic towel on the ground of the roof and look up at the stars. Could Steve be right? Does Bucky really love you back but you just haven't noticed?

If Bucky had feelings for you, certainly you would've noticed.

Yes, he's protective of you and he's always happy to have you around, but you've been friends for over a decade and he is your brother's best friend, so he probably sees you as just that. His best friend's sister.

But he never did treat you like Steve's annoying little sister.

Even when you were kids he always tried to include you in their games and literally held your hand whenever the three of you went somewhere, like the park a few blocks over.

He would always coo on you when you got any scrapes while playing and kiss your boo-boos away.

He's always been very sweet to you and he stood up for you as much as he did for Steve whenever someone bothered you.

But could that really be actual love? Or is it just affection for a girl he's known since you were little and sees as his own little sister?

You rub your eyes before putting your hands behind your head, getting comfortable while looking at the sky full of stars.

In the meantime, Bucky heard everything from the window of your apartment.

He couldn't deny the truth of what Steve had said, he did look at you with a sense of reverence and respect, like you held the key to unlocking his heart and making everything else in his life fall into place.

But he also knew that he had to tread carefully, to approach you in the right way or risk scaring you off completely.

As much as he wanted to take control of the situation and make things happen on his terms, he knew that he needed to let you come to him, to give you space to process everything that Steve told you and to allow you time to realize how much you actually mean to him.

As Steve climbs back into the window, he gives Bucky a pointed look and a pat in the back, silently encouraging him to talk to you.

Bucky takes a deep breath and then climbs into the stairs, getting to the roof but not getting any closer to you. He's determined to talk to you, but his nerves are getting the best of him.

You can hear Bucky coming to the roof and when he doesn't move closer you frown slightly but think he's just giving you a moment before sitting next to you.

When he stays put for a couple of minutes, you roll your eyes and with a small smile you say "You can come lay down next to me, if you want." Loudly enough for him to hear, your eyes never leaving the stars above you.

Bucky's heart skips a beat as he hears your invitation, and without hesitation he steps forward and drops down onto the towel beside you.

You can tell he's trying to keep his movements quiet, not wanting to startle you or disturb your peaceful contemplation.

He lays there quietly for a few moments, taking in the sight of you lying there so effortlessly beautiful, before finally speaking.

"You have no idea how much I wanted to hear those words coming from your mouth," he whispers and moves closer to you, placing one arm around your waist and resting his head on your shoulder, feeling incredibly vulnerable by the fact that you were so physically close and you were allowing him to get even closer.

"Thanks for letting me do this," he added, indicating the embrace.

"It's not the first time we've watched the stars together, Buck..." You whisper back, resting your head on his while willing your heart to stop beating so fast.

Bucky smiles softly, feeling a warm sense of contentment wash over him as he wraps his arms around you, feeling incredibly grateful for this moment of intimacy between the two of you.

He can feel the gentle weight of your body against his, and it feels like the most natural thing in the world. He listens to the sound of your breathing, feeling his heartbeat slow down as he takes comfort in your presence.

"Yeah, it's not the first time... But it feels different tonight." He whispers back, feeling a newfound confidence and boldness coursing through his veins.

He moves even closer to you, pressing his face against your neck and inhaling deeply, savoring the scent of your skin. "I've always... I've always wanted to hold you like this."

"I... I always wanted you to..." You whisper back hesitantly and bite your lip when he presses his face against your neck, almost scared to move, worried that if you do it'll ruin the moment.

Bucky feels a surge of pleasure course through his body as he hears your response, knowing that you too cherished these special moments with him.

When you don't say anything at his physical contact he continues to hold you tightly, feeling a deep sense of connection growing between you.

He presses his lips against your neck, gently kissing and nibbling on your skin, feeling a newfound desire burning within him that he had never experienced before.

He wants more than anything to take things further, to remove your clothing and explore every inch of your body with his hands and mouth, but he forces himself to remain patient and wait for your signal that you actually want something more intimate.

"You know... I've always been afraid to show you how much I really care about you," he whispers into your ear, his voice barely audible over the sound of the city below them.

"Steve thinks you love me..." You say quietly, hoping to god that your idiot brother is right for once in his life.

Bucky freezes a little, feeling a mixture of relief and surprise wash over him. He's surprised at your boldness but so relieved that the truth is finally out there.

But he also knows you well enough to know that if he wants you to truly believe that he loves you, then he has to act quickly to prove it to you and make sure that you never doubt his feelings again.

"Yeah... I do love you, Doll. More than anything else in this world. And I'm sorry that I didn't say it sooner... But I was afraid to lose you." He admits quietly, as he takes your face in his hands.

"You really mean that?" You ask quietly, a mix of hope and uncertainty clear in your voice.

"I do." He says without hesitation while he looks at your beautiful face turned towards his. "And I want to spend the rest of my life showing you just how much I care about you."

The smile that comes to your face is so bright that it feels to Bucky like the sun suddenly came up in the middle of the night.

"I know you already gave me a birthday gift," He says, referring to the jacket you gave him this morning. "But can I ask you for one more?"

You're definitely curious about what he wants so you nod. "Sure, what is it?"

"Can you give me a birthday kiss?" He asks quietly while brushing a strand of hair aways from your face and behind your ear.

You blush a little and can't help but smile because he wants a birthday kiss from you, not Dot or any other girl, and you nod slowly as you start leaning in.

Bucky meets you halfway and when your lips touch it feels like fireworks, your stomach filling with butterflies while he brings you closer to him while deepening the kiss.

After a few minutes you both pull away for air, breathing heavily while looking at each other. "Wow." Is all he says after a moment.

You giggle and bite your lip. "Happy birthday, Bucky." You say softly and give him a kiss on the cheek before settling back against him, your head on his chest as you look up at the stars.

Bucky wraps his arms around you, kissing the top of your head and then relaxes while looking up too, more content than ever to finally have you in his arms.

[delicatebarness]

i think he knows | chapter twelve

Summary: Mama Rogers has no idea what's going on inside her daughter's head. Wanda and Peter come back to school. And, Bucky's got a plan.

Warnings: Kissing?

Word Count: 1356

Series Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Series’ Spotify Playlist

A/N: I feel like this is when the story is about to get interesting... whooops she posted early 👀

Tags: @bigtreefest | @caplanbuckybarnes | @angelbabyyy99 | @mega-kittyglitter-1 | @cjand10 | @armystay89 | @itvy5601 | @spider-mans-hoe

Your mind still buzzed from the events of the evening. The warmth of family, the pride in your brother’s accomplishments, and the lingering thoughts of Bucky all swirled around you as you let the crisp night air rush through the rolled-down window. 

As you reached your house, you paused on the front porch, taking a moment to breathe as your family entered. After a moment, and collecting your thoughts, you were greeted by your dad as he was making his way up the stairs toward your parent's bedroom. 

“You okay, sweets?” your mom, Sarah, asked with a warm smile as you entered the kitchen.

“Yeah, just a lot on my mind,” you replied, offering her a small smile as you took a seat at the kitchen island. “It’s great about Steve though, he’s going to love college.” 

Your mom nodded in agreement, a proud gleam in her eyes. “He’s worked so hard for it,” she said, her voice filled with admiration before she turned her full attention to you. “It was lovely to celebrate as a family,” 

Your thought settled back to Bucky. Despite the uncertainty of your feelings, there was a part of you that couldn’t shake the complexity of the connection you felt toward him. Lost in thought, you hadn’t noticed that your mom bid you goodnight. Alone in the quiet of the house, you allowed yourself to reflect on the events of the day fully.

The memory of Bucky’s lips against yours, replayed in your mind, sending a shiver down your spine. There was something undeniably about the way he made you feel, a sense of longing that you had only read about in books. 

There was a nagging voice of doubt, mixed in with the whirlwind of emotions, in the back of your mind. What if Steve was right? What if Bucky was just playing games with you? Was the list a part of that? The thought sends a pang of uncertainty through you.

~

At lunchtime, you found yourself loitering at your locker, lost in thought. The noise and chatter of the other students faded. It wasn’t until the familiar voices of Wanda and Peter grew louder that you snapped out of your daze.

“Hey,” you greeted them as they approached. “It’s nice to see you’re both feeling better.” you couldn’t help but laugh with them as you all recalled their absence the previous day.

Their expressions grew serious as they shared a knowing look, Wanda leaned in close to you. “We want to talk to you about Bucky,” she said, her eyes searching yours for any sign of reaction. 

Your heart skipped a beat at the mention of his name, nerves began to stir in your stomach. “What about him?” you asked with caution, trying to keep your tone neutral as you surveyed the hallways. 

Wanda hesitated for a moment, taking a deep breath. “We know the whole thing has been complicated between you two, especially with Steve,” she continued to whisper. “But, we wanted to assure you that his feelings for you are genuine.” 

Surprised by her words, you meet her gaze with confusion settling across your face. “How do you know?” you asked, your curiosity piqued.

Peter then leaned in, his tone matching Wanda’s. “That’s why we were at Stark’s,” he confessed, “Trust us, he cares about you more than any of us realized.” 

Before you could respond, a subtle movement caught your eye. Snapping your gaze past Wanda and Peter, you saw Bucky standing at the end of the hallway. When he noticed you watching him, he nudged his head to the side, gesturing for you to meet him in the classroom he was standing by. 

“Hey, I’ll catch up with you in the cafeteria,” you said quickly, grabbing your backpack and heading off in the direction of the empty classroom. Wanda and Peter turned to watch you walk away, they sent each other a knowing look as they caught Bucky walking into the classroom moments before you reached him. 

As you approached, your heart raced, wondering and hoping to have another encounter with him as yesterday. With a deep breath, you pushed open the door and stepped inside. Bucky stood by the teacher’s desk, a small smile playing on his lips as he watched you enter. 

“Hey,” you greeted him, trying to keep your voice steady despite the butterflies in your stomach.

“Hey, Sunshine,” he replied, his smile widening as you took a step closer to you. “I was hoping we’d get a minute.” 

Your cheeks flushed at his words, and you couldn’t help but return the smile and inch closer again to him. “Me too,” you paused for a moment, standing in front of him, locked in each other’s gaze. “Can we talk?”

Bucky’s expression softened, “Of course,” he said softly, wrapping his arms around your waist. 

Gathering your thoughts, you took a deep breath. “I just wanted to say…” your voice trembled slightly. “I’ve been thinking a lot about us, and everything that’s happened.” 

He nodded in response, his eyes never leaving yours as he listened with intent. “I have too,” he admitted, his voice quiet. “And, I want you to know that I do care about you,” 

His words sent a flutter of warmth through you, and some of the doubts and fears began to dispel. “I care about you too,” you said softly, reaching out to fidget with the chain he had hanging around his neck. “But, I need to know… can we trust each other?”

He gently began to trace patterns along the small of your back. “I understand,” he said, his voice filled with sincerity. “And, I want you to know that you can trust me, completely.” 

You released a heavy breath, relief washing over you. “Thank you,” you smiled up at him. 

Bucky returned your smile, “No, thank you,” he whispered, leaning closer to you. “For giving me a chance,”

As his lips met yours in a kiss, you felt a sense of peace settle over you. His touch was electric, sparking a fire deep within you. 

The world around you faded away, as your fingers tangled in the soft strands of his hair, deepening the kiss. You tried to savor the taste of his kips as your breaths synced in harmony. Every touch, spoke volumes, the rhythm you found together melting you against him. 

As the kiss unfortunately ended, you pulled back slightly, locking your gaze with him in a silent understanding. You knew this was where you were meant to be, in his arms. With a content smile, he rested his forehead against yours.

As the heat of the moment began to subside, Bucky pulled back slightly, his gaze a mixture of adoration and longing. “Hey,” he said, his voice that familiar soft tone he only seems to speak to you with, “Are you free tonight?”

“Yes,” you replied without hesitation, excitement coursing through you at the thought of spending more time with him. “What did you have in mind?”

His smile grew even wider at your enthusiastic response, his eyes shining with a matched excitement. “I was thinking, I’ll pick you up at the corner, and then, how about we have a movie night at my place? No one’s home, I’ll make popcorn, and build a blanket fort… we can watch any movie you like.” 

The thought of an evening spent cuddled up with him seemed, in that moment like the perfect way to unwind after a long day. “That sounds perfect,” you beamed at him, “I’d love to.” 

Bucky reached out, pushing a stray strand out of your face. Bringing his hand down to your cheek, he leaned in for a quick peak of your lips. “I’ll meet you at the corner around seven, okay?”

With a nod, you agreed on the plan, hope bubbling within you for the evening ahead. As you bid each other goodbye, stealing a few last kisses, you went your separate ways. Tonight held promises of intimate moments and the opportunity to get to know Bucky so much more. You couldn’t wait to see where the night would take you both. 

---

Series Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

[yourmidnightlover]

i just saw a tiktok of the i carly episode where carly is running away from the nerdy guy bc he kept trying to kiss her and now i’m thinking bucky.

like you’re steve’s sister and you’ve always been seen as the stereotypical “annoying younger sister” while you have the stereotypical “crush on your brothers best friend.” no biggie.

he would come over all the time, hang out, watch movies, spend the night, whatever. sometimes he even came over just because he’s board and waiting on steve to get back from one of his courses or something.

he was nice to you though, as much as he liked to agree with steve that you were a nuisance. the soft smiles he gave you proved otherwise.

sometimes he would even invite you to watch movies with them, going as far as to wrapping his arm around you if you got scared during a particularly gruesome halloween movie marathon.

but there’s one day in particular where your government professor demanded your project be worked on in pairs and this guy was very persistent in being your partner. as soon as it was announced to be partner work, he was turning to you and writing down his number. you didn’t really get a chance to say no to the guy.

you think his name was john? Lord knows.

so there you were, upstairs in your room, trying to get a game plan for this treacherous project. well, the project itself wouldn’t be treacherous, but working with john would be.

“okay, so they want us to map out the different circuits in the-“

“yea, yea whatever,” he cut you off as you began writing in your notebook, taking your pencil and the paper to set it aside. “we both know that’s not why i’m here.”

you waited a breath, “actually, that is why you’re here. that’s the only reason i even talked to you,” you shrugged with your brows pulled together in confusion.

as much as you try to be a nice person, this guy had practically forced you to partner with him and you’d be damned if he’s going to assume your own intentions.

“sure it is,” he inched closer to you, his hand trailing up to your cheek before you got up from your chair and pushed him away by nudging his chest.

“woah there, buddy boy,” you scoffed as you backed away from him. “i dunno what signals you misread here, but i’m not into-“

“i’m not misreading anything,” he shook his head as he stepped closer to you. “i get it though; you wanna play hard to get. it’s cute, really.”

“i see,” he forced out a laugh. “this is a joke. not a very good one, but points for trying,” you gave him two thumbs up before pushing his chest once more with your fist. “now back away.”

he leaned in once more before you dodged out of his way, pushing him down and beelining for the door, screaming steve’s name in your wake.

“steve! stevie! he’s trying to kiss me!” you continued as you finally made your way to the living room where he and bucky typically resided.

upon entrance, there was no steve to be seen, but you heard johns footsteps following not too far behind. bucky, however, was there. he was already on his feet, making his way towards you in your panting state.

“what’s goin’ on?” one of his hands went for your shoulder, the other going towards your waist. “breathe for me, doll.”

“he’s trying to shove his lips on my face and i don’t want that,” you dramatically paraphrased.

his face went stoic at your admission before he turned towards the incoming footsteps. john froze as his sight landed on bucky. you swore you heard an audible gulp as bucky approached him. you were sure from john’s perspective he had augmented himself to appear more threatening. not that bucky needed it, he had plenty of muscle that when paired with the right look, he could be easily intimidating.

“i didn’t-“ john cut himself off as bucky stood right before him. “i swear, i-“

“are you trying to say you didn’t try to kiss her?” he cut john off. “are you calling her a liar?” he barely towered over the pathetic man, but with the way john was cowering bucky had seemed five feet taller than him. “my princess isn’t a liar.”

“no! no, i-“ he threw his hands up in defense.

“i mean, i get she’s gorgeous, but that doesn’t mean you get to do whatever you want with her,” bucky shoved his shoulder gently. “didn’t your ma’ ever teach you how to properly court a lady?”

“she-i’m sorry, man,” john panted out. “look, i didn’t know she was taken, like at all. i didn’t mean any-“

“i don’t care what you meant,” he swiftly grabbed his arm and turned john around, pinning it behind his back as he hissed out in pain. “i don’t ever want to see you so much as breathe near her again, got it?”

“yea-yes!” he nodded exaggeratedly. “i swear, man! i won’t be a problem!”

“good,” he used this time to usher him out the door, slamming it as soon as he turned back around.

“thank you, jamie,” you sighed as you plopped down on the coach where he had once resided. “i don’t even know why he thought he would be able to pull that off,” you scoffed as you shook your head, grabbing the remote and changing the channel.

“hey, i was watching a documentary!” he interrupted your thought process as he snatched the remote from your hands.

you chuckled lightly as you replayed the entire scene in your head. you kicked your feet up on the ottoman, trying to bite back a smile as you said, “so… you think i’m gorgeous, huh?”

he sighed as he plopped down beside you, his arm thrown on the back of the couch, “if you ever tell steve he’s gonna chop my head off.”

“well, as your princess, i can’t let that happen, can i?” you teased as you gently nudged his shoulder.

“look, that got him off your back, didn’t it?” his voice rose an entire octave as he threw his hands up in defense.

“he also thought i was taken,” you pointed out. “probably by you, might i add.”

“look, he got out of your hair, right?” you nodded. “then my job is done.”

“i’m just saying,” you sighed as you stared at the boring documentary he certainly was no longer focused on. “he’s probably gonna tell his friends. then they’re gonna tell their friends, and you get the point. meaning now everyone’s gonna think i’m taken by some strong, protective… guy.”

“what’s so bad about that?” he chuckled as he didn’t try at all to hide his little smile. “you don’t want people thinking i’m your strong, protective guy?”

“no, it’s just that-“

“sorry i’m late, buck!” steve rushed in the door.

you and bucky inched away from one another, which was odd. you weren’t doing anything, but it felt like you had crossed a line.

“debate went on so much longer this time, an argument broke out and then we had to recollect before final rebuttals and everything,” he rambled out as he plopped down in his favorite recliner. “so, how’re you guys doing?”

“we’re-“

“fine,” bucky cut you off. “we’re fine. nothing eventful. nothing happened. nothing at all, really.”

he turned to you with a slight smirk before turning back to steve.

oh, this was gonna be fun.

[sarahsmi13s]

Y/N 'Star' Rogers

“I would rather them come home alive, than have to come home and face their devastated families knowing that I could have done more.”

y/n rogers, call sign: star, is a force to be reckoned with. she's a lot like her father in that way. she respects authority, until that authority is making her question who she is. she would rather get written up or discharged for insubordination than be the reason a fellow pilot doesn't get to go home. star wants to do all she can before she gives up. and underneath that, she's an empathetic person. she cares deeply about her fellow pilots and wants to care for them in the air and on the ground. she's sweet and kind, she's the one you want to go to if you have a problem or need a friend. there are times where she's the one that needs the friend but she secludes herself from them. especially when it has to do with her dad or the shield and it's current holder... but at least one person is always gonna be there, no matter how hard she tries to hide...

lt rogers tags <33 (i apologize if i missed anyone if i did please remind me in the comments):

@milesdickpic @roosterscockpit @luckyladycreator2 @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @twsssmlmaa

@malindacath @startrekfangirl2233 @indigodaydream @that-one-random-writer @hangmansgbaby

@nikkipea @a-court-of-roscoe-and-baby @yourlocalloser-core @mimi-8793 @scalesarenotbalanced

@carnationworld @bethabear12

[l0velysmut]

family: “why are you just sitting in ur room smiling at ur phone?”

me who’s been reading smut about fictional characters for the past 6 hours:

[natti-ice]

[mcntsee]

me when I reach the angst part of the angsty fic that I specifically chose for the angst

[that1geek06]

"English isn't my-"

Hush now my friend, and let me read the absolute beauty of a fic that you have bestowed this world and humiliated the first English speakers with

[that1nerd-20]

When a fanfic writer puts a nickname you think Is icky in their smut fic

[myladyship]

"After everything you have done. How will you sleep at night?"

"Next to my wife."

[raven-dor]

this fic is getting posted this TUESDAY at 1pm EST, so make sure to keep an eye out!!

until then, here's a sneak peak of thinking of you...

You heard the rowdy soldiers from outside the bar, all of them too drunk for their own good. You smiled as one of them opened the door, hanging your coat on the already full rack and making your way to the back, only one goal on your mind. You hadn’t seen him since he’d returned from captivity, since you’d reunited, and you craved his touch, his attention, and most of all, his kiss. 

He looked the very model of a sergeant, his hair slick and uniform freshly pressed. You took a deep breath, straightening your posture as you approached him. 

“Sergeant Barnes.”

He turned in his seat, a wolfish smile gracing his otherwise angelic face. “Ma’am.” 

You sat beside him, waving down the bartender. “A Manhattan, please.” 

“Coming right up.” 

You looked back at Bucky, blushing as he looked you up and down, his eyes dangerous, full of something you didn’t want to address at the moment. “Where’d this little piece come from?” 

“This old thing?” You looked down at the dress, frowning. “Do you not like it?” 

“Doll…” He practically growled, pulling your chair closer, a gasp leaving your lips. “What do you say we get out of here?” 

“James.” You hissed. “I just got here.” 

“That’s fine with me. Too many of these nitwits are looking at you anyway.” 

You smiled, taking your drink from the bartender’s hand. “Let them look. I’m not interested.” 

“Oh?” He raised an eyebrow. “And who are you interested in?” 

“You wouldn’t know him.” You raised your drink, taking a sip. “He’s devilshly handsome.” 

“Yeah?” He leaned in, his cologne engulfing your senses. 

You nodded. “Smart, too. And kind.” 

“He sounds like a great guy.” Bucky’s eyes left yours, landing on your lips for just a moment before looking back up. “Lucky, too.” 

“Oh, he is.” You stood up, straightening your dress. “Now, if you’ll excuse me-” 

“Dance with me.” He blurted out. “This guy can wait a couple minutes.” His hand was outstretched, waiting for you to take it. How could you not, when he looked like that?

“If you insist.” He led you to the dance floor, the band playing something nice and slow. You leaned your head against his chest, eyes fluttering shut. “I haven’t seen you lately.” 

“I tried.” He murmured. “I tried, but it was never the right time.” 

“I understand.” You swayed a moment before speaking again. “How is he?” 

Bucky sighed. “Stressed. You know him; he wants to protect everyone.” 

“Sounds like Steve.”

“I-” Bucky sounded nervous. “I wanted to kiss you. When we got back from the rescue mission.” 

“Why didn’t you?” 

“You know why.” He paused. “I wish I would have.” 

You looked up, full of desperation. “You still can.” 

“Yeah?” He grinned. “Steve’s here, you know.” 

“I don’t care.” You wanted him to kiss you, to take you away and- You blushed simply thinking about it. “You wanna get out of here?” 

He nodded, pulling you off the dance floor, and grabbed his suit jacket, draping it over your shoulders. “Where are we off to?” 

“Any suggestions?” 

“Not particularly.” He hooked your arm through his, a smile peeking through at your reaction. “I’ve never been to London.” 

“It’s beautiful here.” You stayed close to his side. “Peggy’s been showing me around.” 

Bucky smirked, wiggling his eyebrows. “How’s her and Steve doing?” 

“Well…” You laughed. “Not much is happening. My brother is brave, but when it comes to Peggy-” You shook your head. “I think she’ll have to make the first move.” 

Bucky gasped, clutching his chest. “Such little faith.” 

“Do you disagree?” 

“Not originally. But this serum, it’s made him- bolder.” He shrugged, stopping in his tracks and spinning you towards him. “Maybe he’ll make a move.” 

“And will you?” Your heart was beating a million miles a minute, eyes drifting down to his lips. “Make a move, that is?” 

“Depends.” He leaned down, your lips now inches apart. “Where are we goin’?” 

You smirked, kissing him quickly and walking away. “My apartment.” The implication of your invite hadn’t truly hit him until you were a few paces away, fishing out your keys and unlocking your door. You looked back, grinning wildly. “Are you coming?” 

Bucky was on you in an instant, pushing you against the door and kissing you hard. Perhaps hard hadn’t been the best way to describe it. It was passionate, full of need, of want. It was full of love, of an unspoken promise to never leave you. He pulled away, panting as he spoke. “Does that answer your question?” 

…

Your day had been a rollercoaster; that much you were sure of. But the last moments, the one before your brother and Bucky had left for the mission, they’d been perfect. So perfect, you hadn’t expected anything to bring you down from the high you’d felt. 

So much for believing.

Peggy and you stood in the debriefing room, as usual, waiting for any word, any sign they were okay. You paced around the debriefing room, as you always did when your boys left, fidgeting with the dog tags that Bucky had left you. You felt ecstatic from earlier, but something was off.

Something was different. 

There was this pit in the bottom of your stomach, something that had always been there, but it was growing, never settling. The adrenaline, the high you were riding on from earlier, it did nothing to ease your anxiety. If anything, it had made it worse. This had made you pace ever faster, fidgeting with your lover’s dog tags like it was the last thing you had of him. 

And when Steve walked in the room, eyes red and puffy, face sullen, you knew. You sank to the ground, all of the adrenaline leaving you instantly, dread and grief leaving you in waves. You sobbed and sobbed, one bloodcurdling cry after the other. Steve hadn’t even had the energy to comfort you, just sitting there and staring at the wall. 

The Rogers had been broken that day, shaken to their very core. 

Bucky was dead. And there was no bringing him back.

You clutched his dog tags in your hands, curled up in his bed, hoping they would wake you from this horrible nightmare, that he would show up at your door, and you could see him one last time.

[theshamelesssimp]

When you're reading a fanfic and suddenly the reader has a name

[ruerecs]

PSA! you don't have to have smut in your fic to make it good.

for all the butthurt people in my reblogs, i’m literally a writer too. that’s literally why i made this post, never said you shouldn’t. just said you don’t have to? (all the people complaining about this post just know i’m laughing at your replies🙂‍↕️)

[miryum]

does anyone else get, like, jealous when a fictional character dates or has a crush on another character?

... no? just me?

[sarahsmi13s]

Lieutenant Rogers - part 8

Safe Places

pairings: romantic!neil ‘omaha’ vikander x rogers!reader, platonic!dagger squad x rogers!reader, plantonic!sam wilson x rogers!reader, platonic!bucky barnes x rogers!reader

characters: y/n rogers, neil vikander, bob floyd, dagger squad, sam wilson, john walker (mentioned), lemar hoskins (mentioned), karli morgenthau (mentioned), nico (mentioned)

word count: ~8.7k

chapter warnings: language, murder, grief, isolation, fighting, talk of blood, crying, internalizing feelings, vomiting (no one pukes but there are mentions of it), slightly obsessive behaviors, omaha is a good boyfriend, star really needs a hug, please let me know if I missed any

a/n: hi... hello... i just want to thank you all for your immense patience with me. i'm so so sorry it's almost been a year sense the last update. i hope this chapter was worth the wait 💙

sources: Top Gun: Maverick (2022) , The Falcon and the Winter Soldier (2021)

chapter summary: in the wake of the publicized murder of a flag smasher, star has to wrestle with herself as she comes to terms with everything that has happened and anticipate what will happen in the fall out -- all the while omaha tries not to let his feelings overshadow hers

lieutenant rogers universe previous part || next part

You stared at your phone, the video stopped on a frame of the shield covered in blood. Your father’s shield, covered in blood. Covered in the blood of someone who was pleading for their life. It didn’t matter to you that they were a Flag Smasher. They were a fucking person.

Ice ran through your veins, a deathly chill capable of putting out the bonfire in front of you.

The one symbol of hope, the one piece of your father that you thought would keep a flame of his comfort burning in the world, was now smothered to nothing but bloodied ashes. His memory, his legacy, was now tainted. 

Swallowing the bitter taste of alcohol rising back up in your throat, you quietly excused yourself from the group.

You knew Omaha was watching you the whole time you trekked up the beach, your phone fighting for its life in your hand. He was going to give you your space, give you a moment to let yourself be angry and let it out before trying to console you. You needed a minute to be angry alone, then you both could be angry together.

He kept his eyes on you the whole time though, even as your face was illuminated by your phone screen as you called Sam.

You tried to take deep, calming breaths as you waited for Sam to pick up. 

It was morning time in Latvia, so you knew he would be awake. And if he wasn’t, you’d happily be his wake-up call.

Your thumb tapped on your fingers, index finger to pinky and back again, while your exhales fell out of trembling lips. You couldn’t puke. You weren’t going to puke. This was not the time to throw up. 

Saliva built up in your mouth, and your lips began to feel sticky – a tell-tale sign that you were probably going to vomit. Your stomach churned as you felt the buzzing heat of your nerves roll over your skin. 

You hated puking; you didn’t do it often. It was hard for you to get sick, and the serum also helped you to keep from puking after being in your plane. So, you being over the toilet or a trash can expelling the contents of your stomach wasn’t an event you experienced regularly. When it did happen, you were absolutely miserable.

You spit the built-up saliva out into the sand, your hand resting over your stomach as you hummed to try and ward away the nausea. 

Pick up the damn phone, Wilson, you thought as you closed your eyes and exhaled, head tilting up toward the navy blue sky.

Finally, just as you were about to hang up and try again, he answered, his tone already pleading and desperate.

“I know-” 

“What. The. Fuck did he do?” 

Sam’s words went unheard by you as you cut him off, hissing harshly into the receiver.

Anger and frustration rose up in place of the bile and alcohol that had been in your throat moments ago. Your words pushed the nausea out of the way.

Was your anger misplaced? You didn’t think so.

He promised you that he would keep John in line. Keep your father's legacy intact despite the catastrophe tasked with carrying it on. Sam gave you his word that he wouldn’t let Walker ruin it. 

And now, for John to go and do this? With Sam doing nothing to stop him?

As far as you were concerned, your anger towards him was justified.

“Y/N-”

“No, Sam! Don’t ‘Y/N’ me! What the hell happened?”

You weren’t about to let Sam try to calm you down. That wasn’t his place. Not after he failed to do the one thing he said he would.

Sam sighed, and the weight of it dampened the ringing in your ears slightly, a realization hitting you.

Sam was there. He watched it and everything that led up to it. He was just as angry about this situation as you were, not to mention the guilt and regret that probably weighed on his shoulders now, too.

Had your emotions jumped the gun? Did you lash out at Sam too quickly?

Despite that revelation there were things you couldn’t let go, justifications you were too stubborn to let go of. Stuck on his broken promise.

“Lemar Hoskins is dead. Karli killed him during a fight…”

Your heart sank.

You met Lemar once. It was before you left for the mission and only for a few minutes, but he seemed like such a sweet guy. He was there to support John and have his back; he was being a good friend.

And look where that got him…

You crossed your arm over your chest, your free hand gripping your bicep as your jaw clenched. “That’s-that’s unfortunate… but that doesn’t justify murder.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

“He didn’t even kill Karli. Flag Smasher or not, that man was innocent.” You dug your foot into the sand, “He didn’t deserve to die.”

The ringing in your ears came back as the quiet slowly took over the call, Sam’s end unnervingly bare of words. Your jaw ticked in the silence, anger flaring up in your stomach. 

You finally broke it, letting yourself ask:

“Why didn’t you stop him? How could you allow this to happen?”

“Oh no, no, no, no. You’re not about to blame me for this,” Sam responded, his tone defensive and sharp.

Your free hand flew out to the side, your own defensiveness coming to light.

“You promised me, Sam! You gave me your word!”

In the midst of your shouting and arm flailing, you didn’t think about the possibility of there being people nearby. Nor did it occur to you that the scene you were making might make them uncomfortable – but, honestly, you didn’t really care.

“Don’t you think I would have stopped him if I could’ve? You really think that I just stood there and let him take an innocent life?”

The wild arm fell limp and slapped against your thigh, a huff escaping your lips. “Sam–”

“No, Y/N, it’s my turn to talk. While I understand your anger towards me, hell I’m angry towards me, but just give me a chance to explain. Please.”

You chewed on the inside of your cheek, your knee bouncing as you looked at the sand, “Okay… tell me what happened.” Your voice was a little softer, not as brassy or harsh, but still firm.

Sam let out a breath, taking a moment to collect the right words.

“After the fight, we all just scattered. Bucky and I got separated from John, and… by the time we got there, we were too late.”

You stayed quiet, your tongue swiping over your teeth as you let Sam continue.

“He ran off after he realized what he had done… Bucky and I went after him, tracked him down to an abandoned train station. When we got there, we confronted him and tried to get the shield back civilly, but John’s pride got in the way… it got ugly, but we got the shield back. It’s with me right now.”

You nodded, your thumb popping your fingers at your side as you drew in a breath. 

“What about Walker?” You need to change the focus, your tongue redirecting itself to form the question rather than the comment it really wanted to say.

“What do you mean?” Sam was clearly confused by the shift, but he welcomed it internally.

“Where is John, Sam?”

“They- His handlers, I guess is what they are, took him back to the States. Probably will have a hearing in a few days…” He trailed off, now wondering why you wanted to know Walker’s whereabouts. “What are you planning, Star?”

“Don’t worry about it, Wilson,” you snapped.

“Y/N–”

“You can’t stop me, Sam. Don’t try–”

“Walker took the serum, Y/N.” Your brow furrowed for a second as you processed the words Sam had interrupted you with, and the second you did – it felt like your organs turned to lead.

John Walker was a Super Soldier now? That’s just… fucking great and definitely not a huge problem for you.

You groaned a little and rubbed your forehead after you recovered from the slight shock, “I’m still going to confront him. I can’t sit in fucking silence about this. Not now…”

“And I don't expect you to. But you needed to know what you were walking into.”

You swallow and nod, “Well, thank you for that. I’ll umm.. I’ll keep that in mind.” After another beat of silence, Sam sighed a little, “Look, Y/N, we–”

You shook your head, “Later, Sam, this… this is not a conversation I want to have over the phone with just you. Bucky needs to be in on this, too.”

“Right, right, of course.” 

You nodded and shook out your hand, “Bye, Sam.”

“Talk later, kid.”

After hanging up, you rubbed your face before shoving your phone in your pocket and walking toward the shore.

You needed a second to breathe. You just got back from a high-stress mission, and now Walker has desecrated the only thing left of your father in this world that people put meaning to. And you knew that by tomorrow morning, newspapers, magazines, and the news reporters would be on your ass trying to get a statement.

Were you going to respond? Hell no. Why? Because you didn’t need your words twisted and thrown out into the world for people to use for their own agenda.

But you would deal with that in the morning. Right now, you just need to think and take a breath.

A chilled, salty breeze cooled your heated skin and brought notice to the hot tears of frustration on your cheeks.

“Shit,” you mumbled as you wiped them from your face. “Get it together, Rogers..”

“Honey,” Neil said gently to announce his presence before he touched your shoulders. 

You sucked in a breath, “‘m fine, baby…” He shook his head and turned you to face him, “No, Star-light, you’re not.”

More tears sprung to your eyes, and you looked down in an attempt to fight them off. “No, Neil, I’m f-”

He tilted your chin up, “Stop lying to yourself. You’re not okay, you’re pissed. You have every right to be upset.” His thumb reached up to swipe a tear away, “Please don’t hold it in…”

Your lip quivered, and you inhaled sharply, shaking your head, “I have to be strong. I can’t fucking cry just because I’m angry.” You pulled back a little and harshly wiped your eyes, not missing the look on your boyfriend’s face. 

You knew he was just looking out for you and you knew he was right. But you had a mission and you needed to focus. You could break down later – breaking down would cause you to shut down, and you didn’t have time to shut down.

Omaha sighed and helped wipe away the tears that escaped, “Sweetheart, you shouldn’t hold this in – it’s okay to cry…” He held your shoulders and looked into your eyes, “Scream, yell, cry, punch something-”

“Neil, I appreciate this, all of it. I do. But you just don’t understand what’s going on in my brain and in my heart right now.”

“Then help me understand. I want to be there for you.”

You sighed sadly, “I wish I could explain it, but I can’t. And you are here for me, Neil. Because you’re who I’m gonna fall on when the weight of this crashes down on me, you are going to be my rock.” You cupped his face in your hands, “You are my rock. I just… I need to face this first.”

He nodded and kissed your palm before kissing your fingertips as he moved one of your hands to his chest. “I love you, Star-light.” You smiled softly at him, “I love you too, Oma.” 

Omaha kissed your forehead before wrapping his arms around you, “You wanna head home?” You sniffled and nodded against his neck, “Please, if I stay, I’m afraid I’ll ruin the mood…” He nodded and rubbed your back, “C’mon Doll, let’s go home. I’ll send someone a text and let them know what’s goin’ on.”

You nodded and pulled back from the hug but stayed tucked under his arm as you both walked to Neil’s Jeep.

The ride home was nearly silent. The only sound in the Jeep was the radio, which had been turned down as low as it could go while still being audible.

Your left hand was threaded with his right one, your thumb pressing down on his knuckle like a button. The tip of his thumb moved up and down, letting itself be manipulated. Neil always made sure to keep his hand loose and moveable when you were tense or anxious. He knew how little control you felt you had in this situation, how you felt like the entire universe was crashing down on you, and you had nothing to get the pieces back in their rightful place.

So he could give you this. He could let you squeeze and press and twist and pull, trace whatever lines or patterns you needed to to ease your nerves. To let you feel in control of something.

Omaha knew better than to ask you questions. Your conversation with Sam was a private thing and something that you would talk to him about when you were ready. He didn’t need to push you for information or to talk about your feelings right now, and he trusted that if it was something you thought he needed to know, you would tell him.

That trust didn’t stop him from worrying, though.

He could handle your anxious silence. He understood it. But that doesn’t mean he liked it. 

He knew that your mind wasn’t putting together coherent thoughts, each one overlapping the next until it was just a cacophony of things that overwhelmed you to the core. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the tears in your lash line, welling up and making your eyes glossy. They beaded up on your eyelashes like dew on blades of grass in the morning. They gorgeously reflected any light that they could catch – the moonlight, streetlights, headlights of the few cars that passed you. But you didn’t let them roll over, catching them on the back of your finger before they had the chance.

Your chest stuttered softly with your shaky inhales, something he would have never noticed if he hadn’t learned all of your habits over the course of your five-year relationship. You tried to keep your breathing soft and controlled, quiet enough so you didn’t worry Neil. 

He’d also catch you attempting to pick at your lips, squeezing your hand every once in a while to divert your attention and let you know that he saw you. Usually, you’d give him an absent-minded squeeze back, and your hand would move to your chest, your thumb rubbing against the words scribbled across your collarbone and your heart thumping against it in time with the pulse he could feel against his own wrist.

He almost didn’t want to go home. He could sit in silence in the car, drive around for hours in this silence. In this silence, you were right next to him, holding his hand. This silence wasn’t despair; it wasn’t as heartbreaking as the silence at home.

At home… at home, you had more room to be distant. You had space to be alone, away from him. He understood that you needed space, but he hated it when you would isolate yourself in your own home. You’d tuck yourself into the corner of the couch and just try to figure it out by yourself. You’d completely detach yourself and go into focus mode, locking on to figuring out how to fix this situation – one that couldn’t really be fixed.

When he finally decided to pull into the house, you didn't do what he expected. Omaha expected you to yank your hand from his and bolt into the house to find a corner to hide in.

But you didn’t.

Instead, you swallow, sniffling slightly as you turn from the window to face Neil. He squeezed your hand, letting you know he was still there and he wasn’t going anywhere without you.

“I’m going to DC…”

You didn’t look up at him as you spoke, afraid you’d break if you looked into his eyes. His kindness and understanding swam in them, conveying his feelings so his words never had to. And they were your safe place.

His eyes were kaleidoscopes of colors. The light manipulated them beautifully, capturing each shade in its individuality and in their unity. They were gorgeous. They were home.

They could be the soft dirt, warm, comforting, and inviting – ready for something to hold. Or they were the grass or the trees, fields and forests of serenity and calmness – a place you could find peace. Or they were the sky or the ocean, two of the greatest expanses on earth – a place you felt in control and a place that showed you just how delicate you could be, a place you could relax and let go.

They were all of those things…

They were Neil.

You squeezed his hand, grounding yourself with the chill of his skin against the heat of yours. You took a deep breath, tracing the veins on the back of his hands to focus.

“You-you don’t have to come with me. This is last minute, and we just got home, but–”

“Star-light, I’m going with you. Whether it’s to be your support, your back up, or your alibi – I’m going.”

He knew that you weren’t asking his permission to go to DC, nor were you really asking him to go with you. But he was going. He wasn’t letting you go all the way across the country alone. He’d stay at the hotel or in the Airbnb if you wanted, but he was going to be within reach of you – that was non-negotiable. 

“I… This isn’t going to be some fun trip. I think you know why I’m going… So I want you to think about this.”

Neil didn’t need to know and he wasn’t going to ask questions, either. You would tell him why, probably were about to, before he interrupted you. And he could only assume it had to do with that video and your phone call with Sam. 

“I don’t need to. When it comes to you, to this, I’m going to be by your side. You want to face John, let him know that you know what he’s done and that he fucked up. I’m just gonna be there so you don’t get yourself hurt or in trouble.”

He squeezed your hand again, “I’m your partner, your wingman. I am here for you, whenever you need me.”

He watched your face carefully as he spoke, catching the quirk of the corners of your mouth before you sobered up and nodded.

“I’ll um… I’ll get the tickets after we get inside. They’ll be shitty, but they’re last minute…”

“As long as they’re next to each other, I don’t care.” 

And that was true. He didn’t care where you sat in the plane – just that you sat together. He wanted – no, he needed to be next to you. Being there for you is his priority right now.

You swallowed and nodded once more, caging his hand between yours.

“I will do my best.” 

He hated how quiet your voice was. It wasn’t a normal quiet. It was meek and powerless. You sound defeated and scared. 

You were none of those things. And seeing you this way broke his heart.

His free hand moved to the back of your head, pulling you toward him gently as he leaned in. He pressed his lips to your forehead, eyes closing as he tried to pour every ounce of love and comfort he could muster into it.

And it seemed to transfer.

Your shoulders relaxed as he felt your shaky exhale brush the skin of his neck.

His eyes stayed closed as he spoke against your skin, “I love you, Star-light.” 

You nodded against his lips, feeling comfort in your chest at the vibration of his low voice against your forehead. His voice was smooth with a slight rasp, similar to warm dark chocolate with a shot of whiskey mixed in – it was just… peaceful.

It took over the other voices that were shouting in your head. All it took was the low whisper of those four words to dampen the screaming. Those voices were still there, but Neil’s made its presence known, and that was enough to get them to back off a little.

“I love you too, Oma. So so much…”

Your voice was still soft, but there was a strength that returned to it. It sounded fuller, not as hollow as it had before.

Omaha wasn’t sure how long that would last, but he would take the win.

He pulled back after pressing another kiss to your forehead, and his hand moved to the side of your neck, his thumb caressing your jaw. “Let’s go in. We need some sleep so we can get up and pack.” 

You nodded, inhaling deeply to ground yourself before exiting the safety of the Jeep.

Neil smiled softly at you, hoping to get you to smile back. And you did… But he knew that you’d done it out of reflex rather than because you felt like smiling.

You turned your head and kissed the palm of his hand, squeezing the one you were holding before you pulled away completely and got out of the Jeep. 

He sighed as your door shut, and he unbuckled himself, getting out to meet you at the front door.

After getting inside, you silently moved around the house. 

Both of you had already rinsed your legs and feet of sand and emptied your shoes before leaving, so you didn’t have to worry about that at all. So, you just quietly went to the kitchen and got your laptop before you walked towards your bedroom.

“Hey,” Neil said, gently catching your arm as you walked past him. “I’m gonna take a shower before I go to bed. Do you want-”

“I’ll shower after you. I want to make sure I get these tickets ordered, and that I can snag a decent flight time. I’m hoping there’s still some left for this morning.” Your voice was breathless, almost as if you had been holding your breath as you moved through the house. The words sounded rushed and rehearsed like you had been waiting for him to ask. Your mind was already set on showering separately.

All Omaha could do was nod. He could try to convince you to join him, tell you he’d wait for you to order the tickets – but your mind was made up. 

“Alright, I’ll be quick.” 

“You don’t have to. Take as long as you need.”

Something in your voice and the way your eyes looked down at where his hand gripped your bicep made his stomach feel heavy. 

You were reverting again. Going back to that corner he thought he had pulled you away from. Isolating yourself again when he was right there. 

He was right there. 

All you had to do was just let him sit with you. Or take his hand and let him pull you up. 

You would talk to him when you were ready. He knew that. But he didn’t like that you were trying to face this all on your own because you felt like you were alone. You weren’t. 

He was right there.

But he nodded, knowing if he pushed, you would back away or lash out like a scared and wounded animal. The opposite of what he wanted. “Alright…”

You gave him another closed-mouth smile and kissed his shoulder before settling in the bedroom.

He rubbed his face, a frustrated sigh left his lips before he shook his head to himself and went to the laundry room to toss two towels into the dryer before grabbing a clean one for himself.

Walking into the bedroom, he saw you sitting on top of the covers with your laptop on your desk tray as you bit your nails. He sighed sadly and walked over, grabbing a piece of gum from your vanity on the way. 

He moved your hand away from your mouth, his grip gentle on your wrist as he held out the gum to you.

No words needed to be exchanged, just a silent moment between you both before he left you alone on the bed to take his shower.

Neil stood under the stream, the hot water drenching his hair and running down his face. 

He avoided his music, knowing that it would do nothing to change his mood. He needed the silence – bask in the steam and the rhythmic beating of water on the titles around him. 

His head fell back, letting the water pelt him in the face as he took deep breaths. In front of him, his hands balled into fists when he inhaled and relaxed as he exhaled. 

Neil needed this. He needed this moment, to be alone and vulnerable behind the closed door – out of your sight. 

There was irony in it; he knew that. The irony when he ran off to hide in the safety of the bathroom so you didn’t have to see him break. Didn’t have to watch him replay every moment over and over in his head. You were going through enough, and he wasn’t about to let you see his hurt or his worry just yet. This wasn’t about him, and he wasn’t going to make it about him.

So, that’s why he was here, standing under the showerhead with his eyes closed, the events on the beach replayed behind his eyelids like a movie.

******

His stomach churned as he watched the video from over your shoulder. The pleads of the young man not going unheard. Then, the sickening crack of the shield being driven into his chest. He heard it again and again… and again. 

John Walker murdered someone. And the whole world saw it.

Rage drove up in his throat, slamming on the brakes and leaving a disgusting burnt taste on his tongue. 

It was almost a metallic taste, a morbid mimicry of the paused frame that lit up your features. 

Your expression seemed blank, shocked at the horrendous act. But your eyes told a different story. 

As they scanned over your phone screen, Neil could see the pain creep in. He watched them crack, breaking as they reflected the blood-stained shield.

Your nose twitched subtly as your lip quivered. He glanced at your hands, noticing how they shook slightly. He doubted that you noticed the tremor, just staring with unblinking eyes at your phone.

“Honey…” 

He wanted to get your attention but not startle you. Your fellow pilots began to stare, concern and pity etched on their faces. He needed to get you out of this, pull you away from the prying eyes and the inevitable questions they would bombard you with.

The squad would try to coddle you. Tip-toe around subjects to try not to make you cry. Or ask invasive questions that you weren’t ready to answer. They meant well, sure, but it wouldn’t help you. It wouldn’t make this situation better. Nothing would…

“Doll-”

You swallowed, your hands dropping to your sides as you excused yourself to trek up the sand wanting a moment alone. Your arm flexed as you had a death grip on your phone.

“Omaha, I didn’t-”

“I know, Garcia,” Neil mumbled as he turned to keep an eye on you, his back to the bonfire. “I know.”

He kept his eye on you as you talked on the phone, most likely with Sam or Bucky, as the others tried to continue on with the party. 

He watched your hands and your legs, noticing the near-perpetual bouncing of your left leg. 

Neil hated this. Hated just standing here, just being some witness to the damage John’s actions caused. His emotions were collateral damage, only worsening with each minute he watched you stand there in pain.

He couldn’t hear much, distant hissing and muffled sentences mostly. But then he heard you shout, your arm flying out to the side.

“You promised me, Sam! You gave me your word!”

His heart shattered. Even from this distance, he could hear how broken your voice was, how it was strained with unshed tears.

He felt his nose burn, sniffling on reflex as he rubbed it with his index finger. 

“Vikander? You alright?”

Omaha hummed absent-mindedly in response, not processing the question or the voice that asked it. 

“Neil, hey, are you okay?”

The hand on his shoulder pulled his attention from you, making him suck in a breath out of surprise. “What?”

Bob shot him a concerned look, “Are you okay? You looked like you zoned out for a second.” 

*****

His conversation with Bob is a blurry memory.

All he remembers is taking his eyes off you for what felt like a second to talk to Bob and take a sip of the water offered to him. By the time he turned back around to check on you, you had walked down to the shore.

He felt his stomach sink again as he remembered how your arms had been wrapped around your waist, how your shoulders moved up and down with your deep breaths. And how when he approached you, you scolded yourself for crying as you tried to subtly wipe at your tears.

You tried to lie and say you were fine, hiding your tears when he pushed you ever so slightly. You pushed back, dismissed your own feelings and held your hurt in. 

Neil’s tears mixed with the water running down his face.

But he didn’t care that he was crying. He didn’t care that he was crying over something he couldn’t fix. Something that was tearing you apart from the inside out, but you hid from him – hid from yourself. You were hurting, and it hurts him that you don’t think you can be vulnerable.

So, he didn’t care that he was crying because it was you – he loves you that much.

His shower was a little longer than normal, but he didn’t think you would really mind right now. 

He just went through his routine on autopilot as his mind wandered and raced, recapping the evening. He ended it with a cold shot, letting the freezing water cool his heated skin and hopefully soothe his aching heart.

Omaha got out and dried off, moving languidly as he kept zoning out.

He wasn’t sure what state he would find you in when he walked into the bedroom. That scared him. This whole situation scared him because he had no idea what to expect next. He didn’t know what you were going to do when you got to DC or when you saw John Walker. 

It all just made him uneasy. 

But he knew that he just had to trust you. Though he wasn’t going to abandon his concerns if he felt that something was dangerous. He’s your partner; your safety matters to him.

After he dried off and got dressed in his boxers and Navy shirt, he exited the bathroom as he ran the towel over his hair.

“You might want to give it a minute or two. Let the hot water replenish a little,” he said as nonchalantly as possible.

He didn’t hear a response, so he looked up to catch the tail end of your nod. 

“I got the tickets order. Flight leaves at about ten in the morning,” you responded softly, picking at your lip as you looked at your computer screen. “Um, San Diego International is the airport. It’s the closest but we’ll need to get up earlier so we can pack.”

Neil tried not to sigh out loud at your subject change. He knew you weren’t doing it on purpose; you were just trying to keep what you could in line and control whatever you could. He also knew the frustration in him wasn’t caused by you. 

He nodded and sat on your side of the bed, trying not to look at your computer screen knowing he would find articles about John on your screen.

“Baby,” he called softly, hoping you would look up at him. When you didn’t, he repeated the nickname: “Baby, please look at me.” 

When your eyes remained glued to your screen, he closed the laptop and grabbed your desk tray, moving it to your actual desk.

“Okay, no, you’re not gonna do that.”

“Neil-”

“No, Y/N,” he pushed, sitting in front of you. “You can’t do that because it is not going to help. You are just going to go further and further down a hole that I can’t pull you out of.”

He grabbed your hands, knowing that you would try to run away if he didn’t. “I get that you're frustrated. That you’re pissed off. I get it, baby. But reading articles that are full of more opinions than they are fact is not going to help you.”

You swallowed and looked at him, “People think he was justified…”

His heart shattered right then in his chest. Your defeated and tear-filled voice crashed into it, sending shards of his heart into his throat.

“How could they find murder justified? John had no right-” He stopped mid-sentence when he noticed that you weren’t looking at him. 

He cupped your chin, turning your head back to look at him and moving his hand to your cheek when you did. “That man did not deserve to die. Flag Smasher or not, he did not deserve that. John had no right to kill him.”

“Nico…”

He looked at you, confused. “What?”

Tears filled your eyes, your voice coming out in a soft whimper. “His name was Nico…”

“Sweetheart…”

“He was murdered… All because he wanted to help people. That’s all they want to do is help people, Neil.” Your voice cracked as he watched anger fill your eyes, “He left behind two sisters… Two girls who watched their brother get murdered. They got notified of his death through fucking social media. His murder is viral.” 

He stayed quiet, letting you go until you stopped yourself – willing to listen as long as you got your feelings out to him.

“Sure, the Flag Smashers methods aren’t ethical, and Karli hasn’t been a saint. But they’re the only ones actually willing to do anything to help those people. The GRC isn’t doing shit!”

He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t think there was much he could say. 

You pulled your hand from his, rubbing your face harshly. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. That… I didn’t mean to blow up on you like that.”

Neil shook his head immediately, resting his hand on your knee. “No, don’t apologize. You don’t have to bottle it up.” 

You gave him a weak smile, resting your hand on top of his. He smiled back at you reassuringly before he turned his palm up and kissed your hand.

You just sat like that for a moment. Your hand in his as the water rolled off his dark hair and onto the duvet, letting the silence settle between you for a moment.

“They think he’s justified because Lemar was killed during a fight… They see it as retribution for that,” you said softly after a few minutes while you played with his fingers. 

Omaha shook his head and opened his mouth to say something, but you continued.

“It wasn’t even Nico that killed Lemar. Karli was…”

He squeezed your hand, “So then it’s not retribution. And one injustice does not fix another.” 

You shook your head, looking down at your joined hands. “It doesn’t…”

A tear hit Neil’s hand, making his heart break – again. But he didn’t make a huge scene. He didn’t point it out. All he did was reach out and gently wipe the tear from your cheek. “Why don’t you go shower, Star-light? The water pressure is nice, and it should all be warmed up now. I’ll heat up your towel and hair towel in the dryer. What do you want to wear to bed?”

You sniffled and leaned into his hand. “One of your oversized shirts and a pair of your boxers, please.” He nodded and kissed your forehead, “You got it, doll.”

“Thank you, Oma, really.”

“You don’t gotta thank me,” he squeezed your hand. “Just go take a shower, relax. I’ll be out here if you need me.”

You nodded and gently pecked his lips, “I love you.” He kissed you back, “I love you too.”

Taking a deep breath, you got up and went to the bathroom, leaving Neil on the bed.

He sat on the bed and waited to hear you turn the shower on before he started moving around the room.

After grabbing the clothing items you asked for and his phone, he went to the laundry room.

He sighed heavily as he tossed the clothes in with the towels and started the dryer, hoping that they would be warm by the time you were done in the shower.

“Okay, now what to–”

Mid-sentence, Neil’s phone started ringing. He didn’t need to check the caller ID to know who it was.

“Hey Bob…” He answered, his voice flat to try and conceal the relief of someone to talk to.

“Hey, I was just calling to check-in. See how you both were holdin’ up.”

Neil sighed, his arm crossing over his chest as he leaned against the washing machine. “Honestly? Not great. I um… I caught her looking at articles.”

Bob inhaled sharply on the other end of the phone, “That’s not good…”

“No, no, it’s not… There are so many who agree with John’s actions and others that don’t. But they’re all just opinions. No one is going to know all the facts. They only know what they saw in that video. And what they saw was John murder someone with the shield in the middle of the town square.”

Omaha harshly ran his teeth over his bottom lip, “I don’t know what to do, Bob. She’s hurting, and she won’t talk to me. She’s said a few things, but the closest I got to her emotions was her voice… Then she fucking apologized for talking about it. What do I fucking do?”

“What you’re doing, Neil. Being there for her. Sometimes, that’s all you can do.”

“That’s not enough!”

“Neil, I know you’re angry…”

That was the understatement of the century. 

Neil was pissed. Someone hurt you. Someone’s careless and selfish actions have hurt you – again.

Someone has taken you from him. Their actions have caused you to internalize your feelings and put your guards up all over again. Making you hide from your safe places.

And that started a fire in him.

“I’m more than angry, Robert. She is hurting. She has to mourn the memory of her father after mourning him the first time!”

Neil tends to hold resentment towards the one that hurt you, Bob knew that. He still holds resentment towards your dad for what he did to you. No one will get away with trying to smother out his Star-light.

And now John was at the top of his list. 

“Walker had no right to murder that man – even if he were to be the one to kill Lemar. Retribution or not, it’s still fucking murder. And John won’t get away with this.”

Neil couldn’t give less of a fuck if he was Captain America or not. John wasn’t getting away with hurting you or disrespecting something that held so much meaning for you.

Bob sighed again, most likely putting his glasses on his head to rub his eyes. “Omaha, you know she won’t want you to get involved in this… She’s keeping things to herself for a reason. And while you don’t like it, she’s protecting you and herself by doing that.”

“I just want to be there for her. I want her to come to me so she doesn’t face this on her own,” Neil’s voice cracked as tears slipped down his cheeks. “I want to be her safe place again…”

“That is never going to change, Neil. Never. You will always be her safe place. And she knows that when she is ready, she can run to you, and you’ll be there with open arms. She just needs to process this on her own… give her time.”

Neil nodded, wiping his eyes harshly as he tried to regain his own composure. 

“Your feelings are justified, Neil. You are allowed to be upset, too. So don’t think that you being scared or upset about her closing herself is selfish or anything, because it’s not.”

Omaha couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle, “Are you sure you’re not a mind reader, Bob?”

“Well, Nick Fury’s not on my doorstep, so I’m gonna stick with no,” Bob laughed.

A beat of silence passed before Neil spoke up.

“Hey, we’re leaving for DC tomorrow morning. Do you think you could go grab my Jeep from the airport and bring it back to the house? Y/N can leave her spare key somewhere for you. And maybe just look after the house since you're only a few houses down?”

“Of course, I can do that for you.”

“Thanks, man.” Neil sighed and looked back toward the bedroom. “I better get going. Calm myself down before she gets out of the shower.”

“Alright, good luck. Call me if you need anything.”

“Will do. Thank you.”

Both hung up, and Neil wiped his face before going back to the bedroom to wait for you to get out of the shower.

You sighed as you tossed and turned in your bed, your body becoming restless the moment you thought you were comfortable. You thought the shower would’ve calmed you down, but the stress was eating at your nerves and making your stomach churn constantly. 

The anxiety was making you feel hot, your already naturally high body temperature rising as your mind ran at a million miles a minute.

Huffing, you threw the cover off of you and got out of bed. 

Your feet drug as you took yourself to the kitchen. 

You got a glass of ice water before going to the living room and sitting in the corner of the couch. 

Sleep wasn’t coming to you anytime soon, not with all the thoughts running through your mind… So you sat on the couch and looked out of your sliding glass doors at the moonlit backyard.

Your eyes felt heavy with tears. They were tears of frustration and anger. Tears of heartbreak. It was all so much, and being left alone with your thoughts was probably the worst situation you could have put yourself in. But you couldn’t go anywhere or talk to anyone about this. They wouldn’t understand anyway. 

Tears weighed down your lash line, blurring your vision as you zoned out completely. They slowly overflowed, breaking the surface tension and tracking down your face.

But you weren’t crying. 

No. Crying involved you actually feeling something, and right now… numbness was overtaking it all. Pushing everything from the last few hours into one blurry mess of static.

You didn’t have time to cry… you had a mission to complete.

The next morning, Neil woke up to see you moving around the room and packing bags for both of you.

He glanced over and checked the time, seeing just how early it was, “What time did you get up?” You didn’t look up from what you were doing as you answered him, “Didn’t sleep.” 

“Star-light…” 

“Oma, I’m fine. If I need to sleep, I’ll sleep,” you said, still shoving things into your bags.

You didn’t need sleep. Sleep was the furthest down on your list of needs. What you really needed was to get on a plane and get to DC so you could confront the hurricane of emotions that were swirling through your being.

You needed to release the fermenting anger and frustration; it was poisoning you, and you knew it. But you were too damn stubborn, wanting to hold it in and take it out on the true cause of it.

Dumping it all on Omaha or your friends wasn’t fair, not in your eyes. It wasn’t justice in them either. John wasn’t going to miss your wrath. He’d been on your radar since he took up the mantle, and now you were trying to get a missile lock.

That was justice.

Neil sighed and got out of bed, ruffling his hair as he walked over to you. “I know you’re a super soldier, but you’re not invincible. Your body can only handle so much. You need to sleep.” He wrapped his arms around you, “I just-”

“Neil, I don’t want to talk about it right now,” you huffed, leaning on the duffels in front of you. 

“I know, and I’m not trying to get you to talk about it. I know you’ll come to me when you’re ready. But I’m not just gonna abandon my duties as your boyfriend. I’m still gonna make sure you take care of yourself because I love you.”

You sighed and dropped your head back onto his shoulder, “I know… I know, I’m sorry.” He kissed your temple, “Don’t apologize. You’re going through a lot. But I’m gonna make sure you’re taken care of.” 

Sniffling a little, you rest your hands on top of his. “Thank you, honey… I just–”

You were cut off by your phone ringing. 

You huffed again and went over to pick it up. “Hello?... No comment.” You hung up and shoved your phone into your sweatpants pocket. 

“That was fast,” Neil pointed out as he started packing whatever was left.

Rubbing your forehead, you sat on the bed as you sighed, “Yeah, that is the… fifth? Maybe the sixth reporter to call me for a statement on all of this. I can’t turn my phone off, so I just answer and say, ‘no comment’. This has been going on since 4 this morning.” You felt your phone go off with a short ring in your pocket. 

Neil opened his mouth to say something but you held a hand up, “Don’t get me started on the emails.”

He just nodded with a playful smile and continued to pack.

You both sat in silence for a little bit, but Omaha broke it when he noticed you were fidgeting.

“Hey, what’s going on? You’re a little more fidgety than you usually are…” 

Last night, as you evaded sleep, it occurred to you that Neil had no idea that John was a super soldier. You hadn’t told him that very important detail last night. It didn’t change your mind, but keeping your boyfriend in the dark about that wasn't fair.

You swallowed, playing with the worn cuffs of your hoodie, “There’s um…” You scratched your brow, “I didn’t tell you everything last night…” 

He stopped packing and came over to stand in front of you, “That’s okay, you don’t have to tell me–” 

“No, this,” you nodded as you kept your head down, looking at your lap. “This I need to tell you…” 

“Doll, you’re worrying me… what’s wrong?” 

You looked up at him, swallowing your nerves before speaking, “John took the serum… he’s a super soldier now.” 

Neil’s eyes widened as he took a few steps back, his lips parting slightly in shock.

“I’m sorry?”

It wasn’t a question. Not really. His brow was furrowed, and his hands were up as he tilted his head, but he wasn’t really asking.

He let out a dry chuckle, “Did you just say that John Walker, the man you’re about to fly to DC to confront, was a um… was a super soldier? Or-or am I hearing things? I really, really hope that’s not what you just said.”

“You heard right… John took the serum,” you played with your fingers, looking down at your lap.

Neil put his hands on his hips and nodded, “Okay…” He wiped his mouth before pressing his lips into a thin line and rolling them between his teeth. 

He took in a deep breath through his nose, attempting to keep his voice steady as emotion began to rise in his throat. He knew his hands would start shaking at any minute, so his voice couldn’t break or waiver and ruin how serious he was.

“You knew… You knew, and you were still gonna confront him? At probably the most emotionally unstable point in his life! Are you insane?!”

You winced a little and rubbed your face as he started to pace back and forth. “Oma-” “Were you even gonna tell me?” Neil cursed himself for the breathy, almost dejected tone that began to work its way into his voice. 

You looked up, desperation for understanding in your eyes. “Yes but-”

“When? Before or after you got yourself killed?”

You stood up, frustrated that he wasn’t letting you explain yourself, “I can handle myself, Neil.” 

“It’s not about that Y/N! It’s about whether or not John is capable of murder! And as we learned last night, he absolutely is!” 

You scoffed and put your hands on your hips, pointing an accusatory finger at your boyfriend, “You just don’t think that I can do it! You don’t think I can handle this, do you?” 

He stayed silent, his brown eyes avoiding you as he tongued his cheek.

Your heart dropped to your feet, and your hands fell limp at your sides. “You actually don’t think I can do this…”

He hung his head, “This is dangerous, Y/N. John isn’t just some dickhead with a shield anymore… He’s angry, and I’m sure whatever the council has to say to him can’t be good.” 

In a flash, your anger resurfaced. “A shield? A shield?! It’s more than just ‘a shield’, Neil! It’s THE shield! The shield my father earned! The shield that was made for him! For HIM! Not John! My dad worked for that shield, he earned it! John was handed the shield! So don’t just call it ‘a shield’ because it is so much more than that! And you know that!”

Neil flinched a little at your volume, not expecting you to react that way, but not shocked by it either. “You’re right, sweetheart, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. I’m just…”

Finally, he met your eyes, and you could see the emotion swirling in them. “I’m scared…” 

You swallowed and stayed silent, your anger smothering out as your expression softened.

“An-and I get that confronting him is the best way for you to get your feelings and emotions out… But we know what John is capable of. We know that he can and will kill someone with the slightest bit of provoking. You are going to be his antagonist, and that scares the shit out of me.”

“I can handle John, Neil…” You protested quietly, still hurt by the fact he thought you couldn’t. 

He sighed and rubbed your arms before tilting your head up. “It’s not that I don’t think you can. You’re quite literally the strongest person I know. But I’m scared, Y/N, and I’m not apologizing for being worried for your safety. I just need you to be safe.” 

You sniffled, “I’m not changing my mind… I can’t let him slip by, thinking that I don’t know what he did. He has to know-” You looked away as emotion clogged your throat. “He has to know, Neil. He has to know that I know.”

He gently turned your head back to face him, “I know. And I’m not asking you to change your mind. The bastard deserves to see the pain he caused. All I’m asking is that you’re careful and you really think about your approach. I love you too much to keep in my concerns.” 

You nodded before wrapping your arms around him. “I love you too. I love you so much.” You pulled back and pressed a kiss to his lips, “I’ll try my best to be careful. But I can’t make you a promise…” He nodded, “That’s all I ask.” 

Omaha pecked your lips, “C’mon, we got a flight to catch.”

how do you even describe this...

other than just pain and anger.

star is kicking herself more than she probably should be and omaha is just trying to keep her as safe as he can...

but how will confronting walker turn out?

hi guys! i just want to thank you again for your incredible patience. i can not and will not promise you when the next part will be up and ready to go. but i will be working on it to get it out to you guys 💙

lt rogers tags <33 (i apologize if i missed anyone if i did please remind me in the comments):

@milesdickpic @roosterscockpit @luckyladycreator2 @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @twsssmlmaa

@malindacath @startrekfangirl2233 @indigodaydream @that-one-random-writer @hangmansgbaby

@nikkipea @a-court-of-roscoe-and-baby @yourlocalloser-core @mimi-8793 @scalesarenotbalanced

@carnationworld @bethabear12