I NEED YOU ALIVE - Steve can't wait to propose, but when a mission goes south, he's not sure he'll get the chance after all.Â
IDIOTS IN LOVE - Being in love with Steve Rogers isnât easy with all the dates Natasha sets him up with. One day youâve had enough and ask her to set you up, something youâve never let her before â and a certain blonde isnât too pleased.
WE MAKE A GREAT TEAMÂ | 2 | 3/3 - You fight alongside Steve in the finale battle against Ultron. The Captain seems more protective of you than usual.
WORRY MEANS PAIN - In the middle of Steve's worry, he's not to happy to hear you took a bullet for Natasha.
TAKING CARE OF YOU - You come home injured after a solo misson and Steve decides to take care of you.
LUCKY - Hydra agents breaks into your apartament while youâre on the phone with Steve. Will help reach you in time?
BUCKY BARNES
UNCLE BUCKY - With Buckyâs help you babysit you niece and nephew. When you get called in fot a last minute mission, you have to leave him alone with the kids.
EXHAUSTED - Your exhausted from working, and when Natasha convinces you to join a girls night out, your health takes a turn for the worse.
SCARED OF LOOSING YOU - Bucky has a nightmare about loosing you. So, when he wakes up to see your bedside epmty, the nightmare feels all too real.
EUPHORIA - A sweet proposal.
NATASHA ROMANOFF
BLIND TO LOVE - It takes you a break up to find out youâve fallen in love with a certain red head.
TONY STARK
DAUGHTER OF TONY STARK - Y/n Stark has gone by the name Y/n Y/l/n to keep her identity a secret. Somehow her secret is out, and Tony must come to the rescue. Â
PETER PARKER
HEARTBREAK - Peter, who is secretly in love with you, comforts you after your recent breakup.
SACRIFICE - You, Captain Americaâs daughter, and Spider-man are chosen to collect the Soul-stone on Vormir, but only one of you return home.
I SAW YOU DIE - Peter turn up outside your widow scared and sobbing, and you comfort him.
YOU GOTTA SAVE ME! - When a mouse finds its way into your bedroom, Peter comes to the rescue.
DAMON SALVATORE
YOU WERE HIS LIFEÂ - How will Damon and your friends react to your tragic car accident?
TOM HOLLAND
LAST NIGHT - When you get a message at night saying Tom cheated, you donât know who or what to believe. To make it worse, Tom doesnât remember anything in the morning.
PLEASE DONâT LEAVE ME - Tom breaks down after you film an emotional break up scene.
SLEEPING BEAUTY - Tom comes home late to find you sleeping on the sofa and brings you to bed.
UNEXPECTED - You're pregnant, by accident, and you're scared of Tom's reaction. You've not been together very long either.
AT FIRST SIGHT - You bring your little son to meet his hero, spiderman. When you meet the man yourself, romance sparks between the two of you.
ONE DIRECTION
PRINCESSÂ - You wake up together for the first time.
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Summary: Being in love with Steve Rogers isnât easy with all the dates Natasha sets him up with. One day youâve had enough and ask her to set you up, something youâve never let her before â and a certain blonde isnât too pleased.
Warnings: Angst to fluff! Jealous! Steve and Jealous! Reader. Misunderstandings. Two blind idiots in love with each other. 4.3k words.
âOkay, Iâm off to bed,â You said through a yawn and got up from the chair youâd been sitting in for the past hours, drinking and chatting with Natasha and Wanda.
Natasha took a sip from her glass, before asking, âSee you in the morning for our run?â
âCount me in,â You nodded and walked towards the exit, your head facing Natasha, âGoodnight ladies.â The second you faced away, something tall crashed into you, making you trip on your own feet.
âWoah careful, doll!â A familiar voice said, as a hand grabbed you by your waist to steady you, âAre you okay, angel?â
âSteve! Oh- Thanks!â You felt a bit embarrassed as he was still holding onto you, his blue eyes looking down at you with what seemed like concern. His face was close, so very close, and his lips-
âSteve youâre back!â Natasha cheered from behind you, interrupting the moment, âHow was your date?â
You immediately felt your heart drop at her question. Steve had been on a date. Again. You took a step away from the super soldier, looking down as he shifted his attention to Natasha, âIt was good.â
You snuck out of the room in the blink of an eye, not wanting to hear about yet another one of Steves âgoodâ dates that never lead to a second one. Couldnât he just choose one of the girls and make it official? That way you had no reason to hold onto the hope that he just might, someday, reciprocate your feelings.
You didnât see the disappointment in Steveâs face when you suddenly disappeared out of sight.
You woke up in the morning with a burning headache. Partly because of the wine last night, but mostly because of Steve keeping you awake for hours. You always stayed to hear how his dates went, but it was always the same: âIt was good, but there wonât be a second one, Iâm afraid. Better luck next time Nat.â
Though what if it was different this time? What if he finally found the one? Your thoughts and feeling of regret were interrupted by a harsh knocking on your bedroom door.You knew it was Natasha and got out of bed. The floor felt extra cold this morning.
âIâll be down in five!â You yelled trough the door and went to get dressed for your run. After swallowing some painkillers for your headache, you left your room to meet the redhead, desperately in need to get some fresh air.
You and Natasha jogged from the Avengers compound and ended up in the nearest park. As you felt the morning sun warming your skin, you felt a little relief lift off your shoulders. You needed this.
The two of you sat down at a bench, kind of like creeps, observing the civilians enjoying their own morning.
A dolled-up lady was walking her dog, or more like, the dog was walking her. You shared a laugh with Natasha at the sight. Your eyes followed her movements, watching as she passed a little girl blowing soap-bubbles. The little one let her tongue out to taste the bubbles, only for her nose to scrunch up in disgust.
âCute.â Natasha commented from beside you. You smiled and let your eyes wander along with the bubbles flying away, which popped right next to an older couple holding hands. âAww, look at them!â You commented.
The husband of the old couple, smacked his ladyâs butt, growing a mischievous grin on his face. âNow, thatâs cute.â Natasha commented this time.
âI know! Old people are the cutest.â
âI can only partly agree with you there. Buck and Steve are quite the old men,â Natasha laughed, âWouldnât call them cute.â
You chuckled lightly as your eyes left the old couple. To you, Steve was so much more than cute. He was the kindest, most caring man youâd ever met. He always listened to your small and bigger problems. He was always willing to drop everything to help you out. He was always by your side whenever you got hurt on a mission. You had no doubt he cared for you, and yet⌠he still went on all those dates like you werenât even an option. He made you feel so special and loved, and you werenât even each otherâs. Oh, how lucky the one who wins his heart would be.
âY/N? Earth to--â
âOh, sorry!â You snapped out of your thoughts at Natasha trying to get your attention.
She gave you a concerned look as she spoke, âAre you okay? You seem down.â
âItâs just my head, it really hurts.â You excused, wiping away a tear you hadnât noticed before.
âIâm sorry. Should we walk back? We can take it slow.â Natasha asked and got up from the bench, lending you a hand.
You accepted her hand and cracked a small smile, âThank you kind lady.â
Once you started walking back towards the compound, a familiar figure caught your eye. Steve, with a girl beside him, was walking in your direction.
âWould you look at that! Steveâs on a second date,â Natasha cheered at the sight of Steve and Sharon Carter coming closer, âHe said yesterday they wouldnât go on a date again.â
Natasha was clearly trying to share her excitement with you, but all you felt was a knot tightening in your stomach. You liked Sharon, you really did, but of course she, a Carter, Â would be the one to finally win Steveâs heart.
Natasha was waving at the pair, just to make sure they saw the two of you. The jealousy in your body didnât help much with the headache, making you feel sick, âNat, Iâm just gonna go, okay?â
You werenât in the mood to stand around and wait for Steve to arrive with his new love interest, you didnât even bother to give Natasha a smile, âYou can wait for them if you want. Iâd like to have some alone time anyways.â
Natasha wasnât sure how to react, starting to feel like it wasnât just a headache bothering you, âYou sure?â
âYeah, Iâll see you later.â You left without taking another look back, leaving Natasha to start worry about you.
You didnât see Steveâs expression go from excitement to concern as he watched you leave Natasha behind.
Back at the compound, you fall down onto your bed, soft sobs rocking your body. Youâre tired of loving a man youâll never have. You have his friendship, but your heart is still not satisfied. Now that Steve has found a beautiful woman like Sharon, maybe you can finally try to move on.
You roll onto your back, looking at the ceiling as your tears dry out. What are you going to do?
Then, it hits you. Natasha.
Just a soft knock on the door and a hug later, the redhead asks what she can do to make you feel better. You let out a sigh and ask away, âCould you help me, maybe⌠find a date?â
Natasha wasnât sure she heard you correctly, but when you nodded, her face lit up in excitement, âOf course! It would be my absolute pleasure!â She didnât even ask why you wanted a date all of a sudden, she was just happy youâd finally give her matchmaking a chance. Â
âOh my god! I have so many guys in mind. They would all be so lucky to have you Y/N. I have to pick one worth your time though!â
You chuckled as you listened to Natasha ramble on about who to pick for you, a feeling of excitement growing in your stomach. You were finally ready to give someone new a chance.
As the moon shone through your window, you thought about what tomorrow would bring. Natasha had already picked out a date whom youâd meet tomorrow night.
Busy in thought, you suddenly felt your stomach growl. Slipping out of bed, you put on a pair of slippers and wandered out your door towards the kitchen. Truth be told, you had been avoiding going around the compound in fear of meeting Steve, which also meant skipping dinner.
You fixed yourself a bowl of cereal and let your thoughts wander back to your upcoming date. What dress would you wear? Maybe the blue one? No. What about the white, the one you knew Steve loved so much?
âHey.â
The sudden sound of a voice made you jump in your seat. As you choked on your cereal, you felt a hand patting your back.
âIâm sorry for scaring you. Are you okay, angel?â
You looked up to find Steve looking down at you. Damnit. You managed to embarrass  yourself in front of him again.
âIâm fine, thanks.â Your voice sounded hesitant, your eyes going back to your cereal. You listened as Steve made himself a cup of tea behind you, not a single word shared. You felt awkward.
You hoped he would just make his damn tea and leave - but of course not. The man sat down, right beside you, half facing you as he took a sip.
âSoâŚâ Steve began, and you felt yourself wanting to disappear. You were in the mindset of moving on a few minutes ago, but here he sat, the man you were so in love with, alone, giving you all of his attention. âHowâre you doing? We havenât talked much since, well, yesterday.â
Steveâs voice sounded hesitant, and you knew, that he knew, that something was up. The two of you hung out every single day, so not talking for 24 hours was unusual.
âI, uh⌠Iâm okay. Iâve been a bit tired lately, thatâs all.â You lied, and you didnât sound very convincing either.
âNat told me about your headache earlier today, at the park-â
âYeah, Iâm fine.â You interrupted him, a hint of annoyance in your voice. You really didnât want to talk about it. Especially not think about the sight of Steve walking alongside his new girl.
You hear Steve let out a sigh at your answer. You were hoping heâd let it go, though you knew Steve too well. The blonde put down his cup and turned his body fully towards you this time, âY/N,â His voice sounded serious, âI know somethingâs up, more than just a headache, and it worries me. So, please, what is going on? Did I do something?â
You didnât know you had it in you to be angry with Steve Rogers, but when you felt your blood boil, there was no going back. You jumped out of your chair and looked at him with rage in your eyes, âWhy do you care, huh?â
You saw the immediate hurt in Steveâs eyes, his expression shocked at your sudden outburst. You didnât care though, âItâs been a fucking day, and youâre worried about me because I havenât talked to you yet? You havenât even been home! The last time I saw you, quoting Natasha, you were on a second date with Sharon! Shouldnât you be with her now anyways?â
âY/N-â Â
âNo! Why the fuck do you sit here and talk to me like Iâm the only thing you care about, like it matters how Iâm doing? It doesnât make any sense! Youâve always been like this, yet Iâm just a friend sitting around while you go out and fuck all the girls Natasha find for you!â Your breath is heavy, tears threaten to spill from your eyes,
Steve was reaching out a hand to you but retracted it as tears streamed down your cheeks. You pointed a finger at the man, your teeth gritted together as you spoke, âAnd lastly, I am under no obligation to tell you anything about my feelings! So please, stop treating me like Iâm your fucking girlfriend!â
Without taking another look at him, you spun around and left the room. As you disappeared out of sight, you ran down the hallway to escape into your room, not wanting Steve to follow. It was when you shut your bedroom door, you realised what you just did.
You yelled at Steve, for the first time ever. Worst of all, he hadnât done anything to deserve it. That night, never ending sobs were rocking you to sleep.
As you stormed out of the kitchen, you didnât see the look of heartbreak in Steveâs eyes. They carried more worry than before, confusion and a load of regret as he started to catch on to what was going on with you. It was all a misunderstanding, and he felt like the biggest idiot in the world.
Getting ready for your date was supposed to be fun and exciting, but after you yelled at Steve last night, nothing seemed to cheer you up.
You regretted every single word you yelled at him. He came to check up on you, but all he got in return was your anger. Though maybe it was for the best, now he had no reason to care about you anymore. You were an asshole. The thought hurt like hell, but you chose to use it as an excuse to ease your feelings.
You dressed up in a white beautiful dress, paired with a pair of white heels. It was Steveâs favourite outfit of yours â he had told you so with words, but his eyes when he looked you, oh, they said so much more. That's were you got the nickname angel from.
It was time to give the outfit a new association, perhaps, the first outfit you wore out with your new potential love interest?
As you walked down the compound hallway to leave, familiar voices came from the kitchen. You knew snooping was wrong, but you couldnât help listening as it was Steve talking. Â
âIâve been a fool Buck,â Steve sighed, âWhat am I gonna do?â
âItâs all a big misunderstanding, right? Just tell her everything and Iâm sure sheâll understand. Y/N always understands.â
âYeah, tell her Iâve been going on a new date every week for the past year so that I can forget about her?â Steve groaned, âIt sounds awful.â
It did sound awful. He really wanted to get rid of you huh? You didnât understand why but his words hurt. â-so that I can forget about her.â
You sniffled and was ready to sneak past them, not wanting to hear anymore, but of course, both men noticed your presence. Stupid super hearing.
âY/N?â Steve asked and walked a little closer to where you were standing, âWow, angel, you look-â Steve gave you the same look as he always did when you dressed up. He looked at you in awe, which you usually loved, but now, you hated it.
âPrincess, you look beautiful!â Bucky commented and walked over to kiss the top of your head, âWhere are you headed off to?â
âOh, I-â You looked at Steve, then shifted your attention back to Bucky, giving him a shy smile, âIâm going on a date.â
The words felt relieving to get out in front of Steve. Now he would know not to treat you like a girlfriend, since you were trying to see someone else, right?
âOh, really?â Bucky sounded surprised, but you ignored it, âHave uh-â You noticed as Bucky gave a quick look at Steve, before plastering on a big smile, âHave a nice one then! Canât wait to hear about it!â
âThanks Buck,â You smiled, âI gotta go.â Â
As you rushed out of the room, you didnât see Steve clenching his jaw and fists. He was irritated at himself for letting it come to this. The feeling of jealusy made him feel sick.
It was an hour into the date, and you were actually enjoying your time. The guy Natasha had set you up with was an agent you had met before during some mission, Christopher. He was cute and had such golden retriever energy - he made you genuinely smile for the first time that day. Apparently he had been smitten with you for a while now, and to no surprise, Natasha knew.
As time passed by, it was time to head home. Both of you had work in the morning anyways. Cristopher followed you all the way back to the Avengers Compound, giving you a kiss on the cheek, âThank you for giving me a chance Y/N. I had a really wonderful time. Will I see you again?â
Busy with your date, you didnât see Steve standing nearby, observing the whole thing. He was tense, saddened and growing more and more jealous as he watched you laugh with the other guy.
Steve had come out to get some fresh air, to clear his head, but was interrupted by your arrival. You looked so beautiful, and the sound of your sweet laughter made his knees weak. Oh, how he wished he was the one who caused it.
The morning after your date with Cristopher, you felt the best you had in the last few days. You hummed as you entered the kitchen, the smell of something delicious hitting your nose, âOh, whatâs that smell? Itâs amazing.â
ââI made pancakes, so I hope youâre hungry!â Bucky cheered and handed you a plate. You accepted it gladly and sat down at the table next to Natasha and Wanda to your left, and Tony to your right.
âHey girl, you seem happy. Iâm guessing the date was a success?â Natasha asked as she took a bite of her breakfast.
âYou finally went on a date with Steve? Rhodes owe me money-â Tony started at the information.
You almost chocked on your first bite of the pancake. Why would he even think that? Didnât he know Steve was dating Sharon?
âNo, Tones, wrong,â Natasha corrected him, âShe went with that guy Cristopher. Remember that agent who wouldnât shut up about her?â
âOh yeah! The guy who was blabbering about Y/N almost as much as Steve does!â
Steve was blabbering on about you? Â Â Â
âAnyways, tell us how it went? Whenâs the next date?â Wanda asked, eager to know.
You chuckled a little nervously, âWell, you see--â You stopped talking as soon as Steve entered the kitchen, shocked to see his fallen shoulders and saddened eyes.
You observed as he grabbed a plate of pankakes, before heading over to the counter to make his morning tea. It was weird not hearing a good morning, or getting greeted with his soft smile. You had no idea what was bothering him, and it killed you inside.
"Y/N? You were saying?" Natasha questioned, as you had left them all hanging.
Your eyes didn't leave Steve's figure, even though he was facing away, "It uh... The date was good."
You watched Steve's whole posture tense as you spoke. Oh, how much you wanted to ask if he was okay. You just didn't feel like you had the right to. The last time you spoke, you were yelling at his face.
"Come on! Give us the details!" Tony pushed.
You shook your head, suddenly not wanting to bother Steve with details of your date. You plasteted on a forced smirk, "You'll have to wait and see if we weet again."
"No come on!"
As Steve was facing away, you couldn't see the tears forming in his eyes. You couln't see the absolute heartbreak on his face from the thought of having lost you. He really felt like he had lost the most important person in his life - and you didn't even know he saw you as such.
Over the past few days, you hadn't shared a single word with Steve, and it was starting to drive you crazy. You didnât even face each other while in the same room - it was a good thing you hadn't shared a mission yet.
All you wanted was for Steve to be happy, and to be his friend again, so with that, you decided it was time to apologize for your behaviour â even if he wouldnât forgive you for being such an ass, you knew it was the right thing to do.
Your palms felt sweaty, and your mouth all dried out as you stepped outside his room, âOkay⌠here goes nothing.â You knocked on the door, feeling your heart thump rapidly against your chest.
When he didnât answer you knocked twice, then again and again. Giving up, you asked Tonyâs A.I. for help, âFRIDAY, whereâs Steve?â
âIn the gym maâam.â
You let out a sigh, âIs he⌠okay?â
âFrom what I can tell, he seems distressed and angry.â
You felt a knot in your stomach. It was 8 pm, and Steve never worked out in the gym that late unless he was upset, âFuck⌠Thanks FRIDAY.â
Earlier that day, Steve had been walking past the door to your room at least five times, with the intention to make up. Though the super solider was way too nervous to bother you and chickened out. It was killing him not having your company every day. He missed you. So, with his emotions changing from heartbreak to anger, and the heavy regret from not telling you the truth and let your relationship come to this, he escaped to the gym.
You entered the gym and carefully closed the door behind you. It took you seconds to see Steve by the six destroyed punching bags on the floor, the seventh about to face the same faith.
Steveâs back was tense, and you could see the anger he was feeling in every punch. You felt the knot in your stomach from before tightening, your palms even more sweaty. Taking a deep breath, you walked up to him; it was time to face the music.
Speaking of music, before you knew it your ears were singing a high-pitched tone, your head hurt and your whole back was facing the cold floor beneath you.
âOh my god!â Steve rushed to your side, worry in his voice, âAre you okay? Iâm so sorry Angel!â
You blinked a few times before looking up at the concerned man above you. Putting a hand to your head, you groaned out due to the pain. Releasing deep breath, you let Steve help you up, âI guess I deserved that.â
You had been so smart to come up behind the Captain and stand in front of the punching bag. Because of Steveâs quick and hard punches, he failed to notice you in time, and punced the bag into you, sending you flying to the floor.
âSeriously, are you okay, doll?â
The concern in Steveâs voice made you forget why you came her in the first place. You only nodded and let him lead you to sit down on a bench. He didnât let go of your hand as you both sat down.
Steve let out a shaky breath. It was clear it had scared him when he saw you flying in the air, and it was all his fault too. You could see the guilt on his face. He still cared so damn much.
You had enough of Steve feeling so down because of you, he didnât deserve a second of it, âSteve Iâm okay. Iâm the idiot for creeping up on you like that⌠Also, I kinda deserved it after how shitty Iâve been treating you.â
âWhat are you talking about?â There was confusion in the Captainâs eyes.
âJust⌠let me talk.â Suddenly you had the courage to just get it out. You took hold of both his hands and looked deeply into his blue eyes, âIâm so sorry Steve. Iâve been an absolute asshole towards you.â
Steve opened his mouth to say something, but closed it as you shook your head, âLet me continue. Youâre my best friend and I have so much love for you. Youâve been nothing but good to me, and I was yelling at you for it. Thinking about how good you treat me, your friend, I can only imagine how good you treat Sharon. Sheâs very lucky and I wish you guys the best.â
Your gaze fell from Steve and down into your lap, âI⌠Iâve been jealous. With all those dates youâve been on⌠Why couldnât you just pick one the girls and get it over with? IâŚâ
âCause none of them were you.â
You looked up at him, shock in your eyes, unsure if you heard him correctly. Steve plastered on a small smile, his eyes so soft as he looked into yours, âY/N, thereâs nothing between Sharon and I. The other day, when you saw us at the park, we were walking back from visiting Peggyâs grave. It was only a coincidence we were there at the same time.â
âOh⌠but what about your date the day before? You said it was good?â You asked, feeling almost ashamed.
âYou left too soon to hear what I told Nat and Wanda. I had a good time, but I wasnât interested. Iâd have way more fun with someone else there with meâŚâ Steveâs voice was low, his hand coming up to caress your cheek, âI canât hold it back anymore Y/N. I love you; I always have. And those stupid dates?â
Tears were streaming down your cheeks at his confession. Never in a million years would you have thought he loved you back.
Steve chuckled lightly, a hint of sadness in his eyes, âI went on those to get you off my mind. I never belied you could love me back, youâre way too good for me, Angel. Though every damn date I went on, I just couldnât get you off my mind. Every time they wanted me to come home with them, I only thought; No, I canât do that to my best girl.â
âSteveâŚâ You felt so stupid for not having confessed your feelings earlier. All this misunderstanding couldâve been avoided, âI love you too. I love you so damn much Stevie.â
Steve breath caught in his throat, not sure he was hearing you clearly, âWhat?â The word came out weak, like he was scared to wake up from a dream, âWhat about--â
âCristopher?â You giggled, âOh, I had a nice time with him, but you know, he wasnât you.â
Steve laughed loudly and you joined in. Both of you realised how stupid and blind you had been. You loved each other.
Steve caressed your cheek again, his thumb stroking over your soft skin. The look in his eyes were different than before; you knew it was love. His features, his voice, all soft, âCan I⌠kiss you?â
You only nodded and let him lead you towards his lips. The kiss was gentle, but a firework erupted inside of you. It made tears fall from your eyes, his too. Pulling away, Steve kissed the top of your head before speaking, âMy beautiful, Angel. I canât believe I finally have you.â
You threw yourself forward and let him wrap his strong arms around you. His embrace felt like home.
It felt so right, and finally, your heart was satisfied.
You didnât see the tears continue to stream down Steveâs cheeks. You didnât see the huge weight being lifted off his shoulders. He was so damn in love with you, and he already knew that someday, he wanted to call you his wife. Â
THE END! Thank you so much for reading, feedback is very much appreciated <3
Steve Rogers x F! Avenger! Reader
Incl. Sam, Tony, and Bucky x Natasha
Summary: Steve can't wait to propose, but when a mission goes south, he's not sure he'll get the chance after all
Warnings: Angst to fluff! Some cursing. Some blood and injuries. 2.5k words.
Steve carefully opened the blue velvet box in his hand, revealing a simple yet beautiful engagement ring. Light reflected onto the golden material, a small diamond on top. Steve knew his girl liked it simple, so that was what he got. A warming smile grew on his lips as he imagined the ring perfectly fit on her finger.
Bucky gently nudged at his palâs side, a smirk present on his face. Steve chuckled as a response, speaking in a low voice, âThis is it Buck. Iâm proposing tonight after the mission.â It was Y/N and Steveâs two-year anniversary after all, but unfortunately they had to go on a last-minute mission before celebrating.
âMâ happy for you pal. Sheâs gonna love it.â
Steve had been carrying the ring in his picket ever since he bought it, looking at it every now and then  - even at the risk of Y/N spotting him. Bucky had reminded it of such many times before, âMight put it away before your girl sees it.â
The whole team were gathered inside the jet, but luckily Y/N was sat opposite of the super soldiers, occupied in a conversation with Natasha. Steve let out a happy sigh and closed the box, âYou know how it is BuckâŚâ
Bucky did indeed understand; he understood the excitement Steve was feeling, the thought of spending the rest of a lifetime with the love of his life. The former Winter Solider had proposed to Natasha just a few months earlier anyways. Â
Bucky patted the blondeâs shoulder, âOne more mission, and sheâs all yours.â
âRight.â The Captain put the box back in his most secure pocket and got up. Time to get over with the mission. Walking into the middle of the jet, he spoke up, âOkay team. One last recall on the mission plan.â
Y/N gave him her immediate attention, admiring Steve in his Captain America stance. Steve gave her a small smile before he continued talking, âY/N and Nat will get the files. Buck, Sam and I will go for the hostages, while Tony-â Steve turned to the billionaire, âYou work as a shield around the base. This is a last-minute mission, which means we gotta be prepared for anything. Sam will back you up if needed.â
âDream team,â Y/N commented from beside Natasha, giving her a pound, âLetâs go.â
Tony turned in his seat and prepared the jet for arrival, just outside the Hydra base, âCheck your gear everyone! We land in three.â
As the they landed, Steve guided for Y/N to come over, which se gladly did. The Captain put his shield on his back, before caressing his girlfriendâs face, his brows softening as they made eye contact, âBe careful, okay? You know I hate separating from you on missions. So please, donât take any unnecessary risks. I need you back in one piece.â
Unbeknownst to Y/N, Steve was referring to the upcoming secret proposal, thinking of the ring hidden in his pocket. He needed his future bride to make it back from the mission alive.
âThat goes both ways,â Y/N raised a brow and smiled, âBut yes, I promise.â With a quick kiss, they bid each other good luck before Y/N jogged off to join Natasha.
âCome on pal, letâs go.â Bucky said form beside the Captain. Steve couldnât help feeling a little uneasy though, watching his girl disappear out of sight. Shrugging it off, he nodded at Bucky before leading the way.
Y/N and Natasha snuck up to the first entrance where four Hydra agents were guarding the door. Y/N looked over at the redhead mouthing, âElement of surprise?â, gaining a nod in response. On three, Y/N launched forward and kicked one man to the ground, before ducking as another tried to shoot her.
Natasha was already slamming the shooter into a third Hydra agent, while Y/N knocked out the guy beneath her. Finishing off, she shot the fourth and last guy running at Natasha. The girls gave each other a pound before continuing further into the base.
âY/N look!â
Y/N turned to face Natasha, her eyes following whatever the redhead was pointing at. A staircase, leading up to a glass covered room holding what seemed like computers.
âJust what we were searching for,â Y/N winked and ran towards the stairs, stopping when a pair of Hydra agents suddenly appeared at the top. Y/N was a quick and precise shooter when it came to guns, not arrows, that was Bartonâs specialty.
Fast, she brought out her gun and shot both agents in their head before they got the chance to react. Natasha came up beside her, impressed, âNot bad, but save some for me, will you?â
âThen you gotta keep up,â Y/N teased. Natassha rolled her eyes and followed her friend up the stairs. As they reached the computer-room, the coast seemed to be clear, with no booby-traps in sight.
âAwesome. Go do your thing,â Y/N winked at Natasha who entered the room, before she spoke into the comms, âMission report. We found the computer-room.â
âGood. Get those files and stay on guard,â Steve reported back, âWe just found the hostages. Getting them out now.â Â Â
Natasha was skilled when it came to hacking, so downloading the files were like a babyâs work. It was when they thought they were safe to leave the base, things started to heat up.
âWe got the files, heading out now!â Natasha spoke into the comms, following Y/N out of the room.
âCopy that.â The Captain sounded satisfied, âAnd the hostages are brought to safety. Everyone return to the jet.â Â Â
While Tony gave his own report into the comms, the ladies of the team faced a sudden surprise outside the computer-room. Out of nowhere, a gunshot sounded through the hall, followed by the sound of Natashaâs agonizing scream.
She had been hit.
Y/N was quick to react and shot the Hydra agent who had fired and felt a knot in her stomach as she watched her friend fall to the floor. âNat, shit!â Y/N rushed over and fell to her knees, âHold still.â
Natasha had been shot through the leg, thick blood flowing out of her wound. Y/N ripped a piece of clothing of her own suit and wrapped it around the redheadâs leg. Bringing a hand up to her comm, her shaking voice spoke up, âNatâs been hit! We need backup asap!â
âWhat!?â The frantic voice of Bucky sounded through the comms, âWhere are you? Iâm coming!â
âWeâre just outside the computer room. West part of the base. Please, hurry!â Y/Nâs worried voice responded back, before she shifted her attention back to Natasha, âHold on Nat. Buckyâs coming.â
Natasha was weak, the wound being dangerously deep. The redhead brought out her hand for Y/N to hold, which she instantly accepted. Y/N felt scared, she couldnât carry Natasha out of there herself, nor would she leave her behind. The last thing she needed was more Hydra agents approaching them in such a vulnerable state.
As if the universe hated them, the voices of more Hydra agents could be heard from downstairs, âTheyâre up there! Letâs go!â
Shit.
âGuys, hurry! Thereâs more agents and I canât deal with them alone with Nat like this!â Y/N yelled into the comms, readying her gun for anything. Right now, protecting Natasha was the only thing she cared about.
âOn my way!â Tony said though the comms, his voice stern with a hint of concern.
Steve felt his heart twist and turn, the sickening feeling in his stomach not helping. If he knew his girl correctly, she would do anything in her power to protect Natasha. Even if it meant putting her own life at risk. âDonât do anything stupid Y/N! Weâre on our way!â
âHold on baby, Iâm on my way!â Was Buckyâs words trough the comms. Natasha let out a shaky breath at his voice, clearly getting a bit of relief from it.
As the first Hydra agent made his way up the stairs, Y/N shot him in the head, making him fall into the one coming up right behind him. Y/N got up on her feet and saw at least six more agents running up to get them, âWhat the fuck?â
âY/N you need to-â Natasha spoke thought a cough, âGet your ass out of here.â
âForget it. Iâm not leaving you.â Y/Nâs voice was stern, so was her stance. As more agents ran towards her, she shot them. One, two and-
Her gun was out of bullets.
In the moment of panic, she took a step back before throwing her gun at the floor. Reaching for her knife, she spoke through the comms again, âMy gunâs out, and these bitches keep on coming. Hurry!â
âFuck, weâre almost there doll!â Steve was panicking. He could run fast alright, but coming from the other side of the base was quite the long way, âTony!â
âAlmost there Cap!â
Taking advantage of Y/Nâs moment of distraction, the next Hydra agent tackled her to the floor. She usually managed to take out a guy alone, but as another agent joined in to hold her down, she struggled.
Natasha noticed and couldnât just lay and watch. The redhead gritted her teeth together and lifted herself slightly off the floor, pointing her gun at one of the agents. Trough her blurred vision, she shot him in the arm. The man screamed in pain and let go of Y/N.
Unfortunately, the Hydra agent realised Natasha was still a threat, even in such a state, and went forward to grab her instead. The man lifted Natasha by the collar and dragged her towards the stairs, pointing his gun at her, âThis is what you get little bitch!â
His words grabbed Y/N attention, her eyes widening, âNo!â
Everything from there happened so fast. One second she was pushing Natasha out of the way, and the next, she was falling down the stairs with a fresh bullet-wound to her side.
In the moment of tragedy, Iron Man came flying in, catching Y/N only seconds away from having her head slammed on the cold hard ground. Holding her with one hand, he blasted the last remaining agents dead, before finally landing. Tony gently put her down, his mask revealing the distressed features on his face, âMy god-â
âNatasha!â The yell and sight of Bucky came in view. He spotted his fiancĂŠ at the top of the stairs, not hesitating to get to her side. Right behind came Steve and Sam, having no idea what would meet their eyes.
The exact moment Steve spotted Y/N lying beside Tony, he felt his stomach drop. The Captain rushed to her side, falling onto his knees as dust flew in the air, âOh my god--â
As Tony put pressure on her wound, Steve brought his hand up to caress her cheek, âOh my god Y/N, you-â
âMâsorry StevieâŚâ
âNo, donât you say that!â Steve was panicking, his eyes going up to meet Tonyâs, âWhat do we do?!â
Composing himself, Tony got up from the ground, âShe donât have much time. We need to get her help, asap! Iâll get the jet ready, you bring her.â Â
Steve felt his breath quickening at Tonyâs words. As he watched Iron Man fly off, Steve shifted his attention back to his girl. Fresh tears streamed down his cheeks as he spoke, âIâm sorry doll, but this is gonna hurt.â Steve, as gently as he could, lifted her up in his arms, shutting out her agonizing scream to concentrate.
âHold on doll, Iâm bringing you home,â Steve promised as he ran the fastest he ever had. He watched as his girl grew heavier in his arms, her eyelids trying to fall shut. âDonât you dare close your eyes!â Fuck he was worried.
âIâm not losing you today doll, just keep your eyes open, please.â Steve begged as he noticed how quickly his girl faded.
âMâsleepyâŚâ Y/N wasnât thinking clearly anymore, not feeling much either. She was just happy her last moments would be in the hands of the man she loved.
âNo, I canât let you to that. You need to stay awake, sweetheart. Please.â Steve cried as Y/Nâs eyes closed, knowing there was nothing else he could do but run. âNo, no, no, Y/N! Stay with me, please!â
As Y/N went completely numb in his hands, the solider screamed out in frustration. The jet was right in front of him, and as soon as he got to lay her body down, he fell to his knees, silent sobs shaking his broad shoulders.
His hand reached into his pocket, fingers tightening around the blue velvet box. She couldnât die on him, not like this. He still had an important question to ask her.
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
Just like he had been doing for the last few days, Steve sat by her bedside, listening to the monitor telling him she was still alive.
Steve refused to leave her side. Sam had tried to at least make him take a shower after the mission, but he still wouldn't budge. Steve had to be present the exact moment Y/N woke up.
âHey, pal,â Bucky entered the room, âHowâs she doing?â
Steve let out a sigh, letting his eyes leave Y/N for just a moment to look at his friend, âYou know⌠the same.â
âHey, I could watch her for a while if you need some rest,â Bucky suggested, but the Captain only shoot his head, âYou know sheâs gonna be mad when she wake up and realises you didnât take care of yourself.â
âSo be it,â Steve stoke his thumb over the soft skin of her hand, âI just canât leave her side. I thought she was gone Buck. You saw it! Her heart stopped, twice!â Fresh tears streamed down Steveâs face at the memory playing in his head.
The day on the injury, Y/Nâs heart stopped twice if not more, and it scared the hell out of Steve. He had to see the world crumbling down before his eyes, only for the universe to prank him. It made him angry. Oh, how he hated Hydra, for almost taking away his future.
Bucky didnât comment Steveâs words. It could easily have been Natasha in that situation, but Y/N had saved her without hesitation. He would be forever grateful â he just couldnât bear the thought of his best friend losing the love of his life instead.
Luckily, Y/N was recovering.
âYou look like shitâŚâ A crocked voice came from the room. Steveâs head shot up in surprise, eyes landing on her beautiful ones looking back at him. Bucky smiled and rushed out of the room, going to get a doctor.
âY/N? Oh my-â Steve gasped, rapid breaths escaping him, âFuck, Y/N, I thought I lost you.â Steve reached forward and cupped her cheek, not even bothering to hold back the sobs that followed.
âMâsorryâŚâ Y/N let out a shaky breath, still adjusting to the light and pain in her stomach, âAnd uh- how long was I out for?â
âFive days,â Steve responded, still in disbelief his girl was finally awake, âThank god youâre okay, doll. I love you so damn much.â
Y/N was a little taken back by the number of days but shook it off as she watched Steveâs broken expression. She tapped at the empty spot beside her, guiding for Steve to lay down. He hesitated for a moment, scared of hurting her, but accepted when she looked at him with pleading eyes.
âHowâs Natasha doing?â Y/N asked as she remembered the redhead.
âSheâs okay,â Steve sounded a bit hesitant, âThanks to you Iâve heard.â
âSteve⌠Iâm sorry for being reckless, I just-â
Steve sighed and reassured her, âItâs okay, Iâm just glad to have you back alive. Weâve been at this one before; Iâd do the same for Bucky and so on.â
Y/N chuckled and rested her head against his shoulder, hearing his rapid heartbeat.
Letting out a shaky breath, Steve turned to face her properly, his eyes softening as he looked at her smile. He reached into his pocket to grab the blue velvet box he had so patiently waited to give her.
âY/N, this is not how I imagined doing this, but-â Steve brought the box forwards. Y/Nâs eyes widened at the sight, her hand coming up to cover her gasping mouth, âSteveâŚâ
Steve opened the box to reveal the beautiful ring, his eyes plastered on her the whole time. Her widening smile and teary eyes made his heart melt, âAfter almost loosing you, I canât wait any longer. Please, will you do me the biggest honour of becoming my wife?â
âOh my gosh! Yes!â Y/N cheered with the little energy she had and let Steve put the perfectly fit ring on her finger, âItâs beautiful Steve!â
Steve let out a soft chuckle, âI know this isnât an ideal way to propose but-â
âItâs perfect!â Y/N assured him and reached forward to press a kiss on his lips. Though as she moved, a sudden pain overwhelmd her stomach, âFuck!â
âShit, are you okay?â Steve went straight into being protective, watching his fiancĂŠ shut her eyes in pain. As she didnât respond, he grew worried, at least, until she started giggling. âFuck that hurt.â
âYou scared me doll,â Steve let out a sigh and reached forward to plant a kiss on top of her head, âYou sure know how to pain an old manâs heart.â
Before Y/N got the chance to respond, a doctor came into the room, Bucky following suit, âSorry for ruining the moment, but we need to check if everything is okay.â
âThatâs fine, I know youâll take care of my fiancĂŠ.â Steve kissed the top of her head and left the bed, going to stand beside Bucky.
The brunette punched Steve in the arm, âNow you can finally stop the obsessive ring gazing. Iâm happy for you pal.â
âThanks Buck.â Steve's eyes didnât leave her figure as he stood there. He watched as she laughed with the doctor, a smile plastered on her face, even though she just woke up from a fay day long coma. She was such a ray of sunshine â she warmed his heart.
Now you had no right( you had every right) to make this as GOOD as it was. I swear words everything about this was perfect and I mean perfect . Damn had me cryin had me laughing had me shacking my head shut even had me pacing like a fool .
Summary: It was supposed to be a short week watching over your niece, who loves romance books. She thought you were just a normal aunt, but it turns out you have secrets.
Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi đđť
Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. â¤ď¸
Lori was spinning around the room, singing with a mischievous grin on her face, "Aunt is a nasty girl, yeah, she's a nasty girl," mimicking the moves from a viral dance she must have seen online.
You rolled your eyes, wincing slightly as Bucky gently cleaned and treated the wound on your arm. He glanced at Lori with a mixture of amusement and annoyance.
Meanwhile, Henry, sitting nearby with a puzzled look, watched Lori's performance unfold. "What on earth is she doing?" he asked, clearly baffled by her antics.
"She's making fun of me," you replied, sighing as you glanced over at your niece. Lori continued her exaggerated dance, clearly enjoying herself.
Bucky, focused on wrapping the bandage around your arm, muttered, "She's not nasty." His voice was calm, but there was a flicker of tension in his eyes.
Lori suddenly stopped dancing and sprinted over to you, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Tell me more about your ex!" she demanded, her curiosity getting the better of her.
You noticed Buckyâs hands falter for a moment as he tied the bandage a little tighter than necessary, his jaw clenched ever so slightly. "He's not my ex," you corrected, your tone firm but tinged with frustration.
Lori giggled, clearly enjoying teasing you. "Yeah... right..." she drawled, drawing out the word as she smirked knowingly.
You shook your head, exasperated. Your niece, always with her head in the clouds, had now latched onto the idea of some dramatic romance after discovering that you had encountered someone from your past.
And that someone was the very reason you were sitting here now, with fresh bandages and a sore arm. Loriâs song and dance were just her way of processing the excitement of what she imagined to be a grand love story, not realizing the pain and complexity it actually brought.
đĽđĽđĽđĽđĽ
24 hours ago
"What you said is pointless because we don't have the data," you replied, frustration lacing your tone.
Henry shrugged nonchalantly. "Well, that might be true, but I know where they hide it."
A groan escaped your lips, and you brought a hand to cover your face. "I hate where this is going."
"Why?" Lori asked, her eyes lighting up with interest.
Bucky leaned forward, his expression serious. "You want us to steal it," he stated flatly, already seeing the direction Henry was headed.
Henry chuckled, waving his hand dismissively. "Steal is such a strong word. I prefer to think of it as... liberating the truth. Recovering what's rightfully ours."
You shot him a skeptical look. "Liberating the truth? That sounds like something straight out of a heist movie."
Loriâs eyes widened with excitement. "A heist? Oh, this is so cool! Can I help? Please, let me help!"
Bucky gave her a wary glance. "This isnât a game, Lori. Itâs dangerous."
Lori bounced on her toes, her enthusiasm undiminished. "I know, but I want to be part of it! I can do it, I promise! You said I was a good actress, remember? I could be the distraction or, like, the tech whiz or something! Whatever you need!"
Henry grinned, clearly amused by her enthusiasm. "See? The girlâs got the right attitude! Nobody would suspect someone like her to be involved in espionage."
You sighed but couldnât help the smile that tugged at your lips. "Alright, alright. If Lori wants in, then weâll find a role for her. But if this goes sideways, itâs on you, Henry."
Lori clapped her hands, practically vibrating with excitement. "Yes! This is going to be awesome! I canât wait!"
Henry clapped his hands together, his smile broadening. "That's the spirit! Now, let's get to work. We have some planning to do."
At Charity Event
The grand lobby of the company was abuzz with activity. Children laughed and played, their faces painted with bright colors. The "Make It Together" charity event, hosted by the companyâs CEO, had drawn a large crowd.
Both of you are planning to steal data from a CEO known for holding everyoneâs dirty secrets. This CEO also loves to host charity events at his company to enhance his public image and boost his business.
Dressed as a happy family, you and Bucky played the part of doting parents, while Lori, full of youthful enthusiasm, easily fit the role of your daughter. Henry, blending in with the crowd, kept a vigilant eye on the situation.
Henry knew about the vault because he had been there when the CEO proudly showcased it and placed the secret data inside.
As you and Bucky moved toward the restricted areas, you leaned in close, whispering urgently, âIf things go south, rememberâno matter what happens, save Lori first. Sheâs the priority.â
Buckyâs brow furrowed in concern. âI donât thinkââ
You cut him off, your voice firm but laden with emotion. âThis is my only request, Bucky. Please.â
Bucky nodded, his expression serious. âI understand. But Iâll do everything I can to keep you safe too.â
As you and Lori approached the vault with Henryâs directions, Bucky positioned himself by the entrance, watching for any sign of trouble. You worked swiftly with the digital key cracker, trying to stay calm despite the tension.
Inside the Vault
The vault door opened with a soft click, revealing rows of safety deposit boxes and data drives. Lori, playing her role perfectly, had successfully distracted the guard, allowing you and Bucky to enter unnoticed.
âGot it,â you whispered, retrieving the data drive from its place on the shelf. âLetâs get out.â
Suddenly, a familiar voice cut through the tense atmosphere. âWell, well, if it isnât my favorite double agent.â
You froze, hearing that familiar voice filled with spite. Standing in front of you was Romeo, your former colleague. He leaned casually against the doorframe, his eyes locked on you with a mixture of surprise and annoyance.
âRomeo,â you said, trying to remain composed. âWhat are you doing here?â
Romeoâs smirk was a blend of flirtatiousness and anger. âI didnât expect to see you here, especially not with him."
Bucky stepped forward, his eyes narrowing. âWe donât have time for this.â
Romeoâs gaze flicked to Bucky, then back to you. His voice dripped with sarcasm. âI suppose it was only a matter of time before you chose another. Iâm just curiousâdid you miss me at all, or was it all just part of the job?â
You kept your tone even, but the past echoed in your words. âIt was always part of the job, Romeo. Nothing more.â
Romeo's eyes flashed with a mix of fury and betrayal. He leaned in closer, his voice dripping with contempt. âOf all people, you choose to work with him? The most wanted fugitive and the worst traitor?â His tone was laced with disbelief as he gestured toward Bucky with a sharp, accusing finger.
Bucky stepped in, his voice firm. âWell, she chose me.â
The words hit Romeo hard. His face contorted with anger. âOh, so thatâs it? Youâre just going to flaunt it in my face? How charming. I always knew you had a talent for stealingâboth hearts and secrets.â
Lori, watching from a distance, could hardly believe the scene unfolding before her. She stayed silent, her eyes wide with excitement and curiosity. This is a LOVE TRIANGLE!
You took a deep breath, trying to focus on the task at hand. âRomeo. This isnât about us anymore.â
Romeoâs anger flared. âI guess some things never change. You always had a knack for making everything personal.â
Before you could react, Romeo lunged, reaching for the data drive. Bucky moved to intercept him, but Romeoâs partner appeared, grabbing your arm and twisting it painfully.
âGotcha,â the partner sneered.
You struggled free, delivering a swift kick to his side. The fight erupted in full force as Bucky and Romeo grappled, exchanging blows. You managed to push back your attacker, but Romeo drew a knife, aiming it directly at Lori.
Without thinking, you threw yourself in front of her, taking the hit to your side. Buckyâs eyes widened in horror. âY/N!â
You gritted your teeth, trying to stay upright. âGet Lori out of here!â
Bucky fought off Romeo and his partner with renewed determination, eventually knocking Romeo out cold. He helped you toward the exit, Loriâs worried face visible in the doorway.
Henry, who had been monitoring from outside, was already pulling up in the getaway car. âGet in!â he shouted.
Bucky helped you into the back seat, and Lori followed closely. The car sped away from the building, leaving the chaos behind.
As the adrenaline began to wane, Bucky pressed a hand to your wound, his face a mask of concern. âHold on, weâre almost clear.â
Lori, her face pale but determined, asked quietly, âAunt, are you okay?â
You managed a weak smile despite the pain. âIâm fine, Lori. Just a scratch.â
Henry glanced back through the rearview mirror. âWas it worth it?â
You held up the data drive, the evidence of the CEOâs wrongdoings. âWe got what we needed.â
Henry grinned, relieved. âThen letâs get out of here before more agents show up.â
The car sped into the night, leaving the confrontation and the chaos of the charity event behind. You leaned back in your seat, clutching the drive tightly. Despite the pain and the narrow escape, you knew you had accomplished your mission.
đĽđĽđĽđĽđĽđĽ
Present Time
Lori was still buzzing with excitement, peppering you with questions about Romeo. Bucky, visibly agitated, clenched his jaw and avoided eye contact, his jealousy simmering beneath the surface.
Meanwhile, Henry was in the other room, trying to uncripted the drive. He took a drag from his cigar but suddenly erupted into a fit of uncontrollable coughing. The sound echoed through the room, making him look vulnerable.
Lori quickly sprang into action, grabbing a glass of water and handing it to Henry with a concerned expression. âHere, drink this,â she said softly.
Henry accepted the glass with a grateful nod. âThank you.â
Lori watched him closely, her concern deepening. âHow long have you been sick?â
Henry looked up, surprised by her insight. âHow did you know?â
Lori pointed at the medicine in his bag, her voice carrying a tone of familiarity. âI used to help my mother take care of my father when he was sick. I remember most of the names of the medicines he used.â
Henry was impressed by her knowledge. His gaze softened, though his eyes still held a trace of sadness. âI just found out,â he admitted. âMy life is now just counting days.â The doctor didnât tell him, but he knew. Thatâs why he doesnât want to die miserably in the nursing home.
Loriâs expression reflected a deep empathy, recognizing the bitterness in his words that mirrored her own fatherâs struggles. She glanced at the cigar and whiskey near Henry, then met his eyes with a gentle resolve.
âDo what you love while you still can,â she said quietly.
Henry chuckled, a bitter but appreciative smile playing on his lips. âI will.â
đĽđĽđĽđĽđĽ
As Bucky finished treating your wound, the dim light from the room cast soft shadows across his face. He looked up, his expression serious yet tender.
âYouâre in the danger zone, James. Why did you try to find me?â you asked, your voice tinged with concern.
Buckyâs gaze locked with yours, filled with a depth of emotion that made your heart ache. âI realized that knowing I canât be with you forever is haunting me.â
You studied him, feeling the weight of his words. The room seemed to shrink around you, making the moment feel intensely intimate.
Bucky continued, his voice hushed but resolute. âI know Iâm a bad person. Iâve lived my life constantly looking over my shoulder. If I die tomorrow, at least I need you to know how I feel. I donât want to leave this world with regrets.â
You felt a lump in your throat, a mix of frustration and tenderness. âYouâre a fool, Bucky.â
He let out a soft, bittersweet chuckle, a faint smile playing on his lips. âI know.â
âThatâs why I liked you,â you said, your voice barely above a whisper. The words hung in the air between you, carrying an unspoken promise.
Buckyâs smile grew, and he reached out, gently cupping your face in his hands. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver down your spine. âIâve always liked you too. Even when I didnât want to admit it.â
His eyes searched yours, and for a moment, the world outside seemed to disappear. You could see the vulnerability and longing in his gaze, and it mirrored your own feelings.
Slowly, he leaned in, his breath mingling with yours. âIf we make it out of this, letâs promise to take whatever chances we can get. Letâs not waste another moment.â
Your heart raced as you closed the distance between you, sharing a kiss that spoke of all the unspoken words and emotions that had built up over time. The kiss was both tender and passionate, a release of all the feelings that had been pent up for so long.
When you finally pulled away, your foreheads rested together, and Buckyâs eyes were filled with a mix of relief and hope. âLetâs fight for a future where we can be together,â he whispered.
You nodded, your heart full of resolve and affection. âWe will.â
As the romantic moment unfolded, a sense of quiet intimacy enveloped you and Bucky. But that peace was abruptly interrupted by the sound of a soft chuckle. Both of you turned, your sighs of frustration mingling with the realization that you were being watched.
There, peeking around the edge of the door, was Lori, her eyes wide with curiosity and amusement. You and Bucky exchanged a knowing glance, recognizing that your private moment had been intruded upon.
"Lori!" you called out, your voice a mix of exasperation and embarrassment.
Loriâs face broke into a playful grin, and she quickly darted away, her laughter echoing down the hallway as she ran.
Bucky shook his head with a chuckle, the tension from the moment melting away. You couldnât help but smile at Loriâs antics, feeling a sense of warmth despite the interruption.
Bucky turned to you, his eyes softening with affection. âWell, at least sheâs in good spirits.â
Author Note: Thank you for reading and reblogging. What do you want to see for the next chapter?
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Summary: It was supposed to be a short week watching over your niece, who loves romance books. She thought you were just a normal aunt, but it turns out you have secrets.
Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi đđť
Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. â¤ď¸
Inside the cozy cafĂŠ, where the aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingles with the soft hum of chatter, Jill Krege sat at her usual spot near the window. The cafĂŠ was a revolving door of people, each bringing their unique quirks and stories, making it the perfect place to find inspiration for new characters. For a bestselling author like Jill, places like this were gold minesâat least, they usually were.
Today, however, was different. Despite the stream of customers, none sparked the creative flame she was hoping for. She sighed, disappointed, and began packing her belongings into her bag. Her latest novel, The Red Swan, had catapulted her to fame, and with that fame came the pressure to produce something just as captivating. Her agent was already pushing her for a new book, but inspiration was proving elusive.
Just as she was about to leave, a new group entered the cafĂŠâa family, by the looks of it. A mother, a father, and their teenage daughter. Jill's eyes were immediately drawn to them. The mother had a cool, confident demeanor, and the father⌠something about him struck a chord. He reminded her of the male protagonist in The Red Swan. And the daughter? She seemed like an ordinary teenager, though her eyes were sharp, and observant.
As the daughter scanned the drinks menu, she glanced over at Jill, and their eyes met, her eyes lightened up like she recognized someone.
She must be a fan, Jill thought, instinctively straightening her posture and smoothing her hair. She reached into her bag, readying a pen for an autograph.
Lori turned to you both and whispered. âWhy donât you guys get drinks? Iâll give you the signal.â
Watching her stride confidently towards Jill, both you and Bucky felt a flicker of unease. âDid a 13-year-old just give us an order?â Bucky murmured.
âSheâs perfect,â you replied with a smirk, clearly impressed by Loriâs nerve.
Bucky chuckled, squeezing your hand as you both walked toward the cashier. âSo, what will it be, dear? Iâll take the usualâan iced Americano.â
You shot him a look, surprised by the sudden intimacy. Bucky leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear. âWe have to play the roles of mom and dad, right?â he whispered, a playful wink following his words.
Rolling your eyes, you turned to the cashier. âTwo iced Americanos and one matcha latte, please,â you said. Then, glancing at him, you added, âA real married couple would stop acting so lovey-dovey.â
While waiting for the drinks, you both stood in silence. âI noticed you never mentioned Lori's father,â Bucky remarked, remembering that Lori had mentioned her father, but you had never brought him up.
âHe died,â you answered, your voice subdued. Lori's father had passed away several years ago from stomach cancer. Your sister had become obsessed with creating healthy food in hopes of helping him. Though he managed to maintain his weight and appearance, the cancer cells never stopped, and eventually, they took his life.
In the wake of his death, your sister became even more fervent about spreading healthy eating habits. Lori, on the other hand, had been very quiet after her father's death. To cope with her grief, she had turned to reading books, finding solace in them. You knew that was her way of escaping.
She used to be a quiet girl like you, but after her father died, she began to change. She became more like himâcheerful, funny, and with a love for singing.
Bucky was taken aback. With Loriâs cheerful demeanor, he had never imagined she had experienced such pain. Now, he felt a pang of sympathy for her.
Meanwhile, Lori approached Jill cautiously, her steps deliberate. She paused before speaking, her voice small and nervous. âHello, Miss Jill?â
Jillâs smile widened as she turned to face the young fan. âHello to you too.â
Any pretense of Loriâs role melted away as her inner fangirl took over. âIâm your biggest fan! I really love this book!â She held up a copy of The Red Swan with gleaming eyes. âCan I get your autograph and maybe a picture with you? But only if itâs okay.â
Jillâs heart warmed at the polite request. Fans like Lori were the reason she loved what she did. âOf course!â she said, signing the book and preparing for a photo.
Lori suddenly looked around, feigning surprise. âOh no, my phoneâs with my dad!â She waved you and Bucky over. âMom, Dad! Come here!â
Thatâs the signal, you thought as you and Bucky made your way to Lori. The two of you snapped a few photos, with Lori grinning from ear to ear.
âMom, letâs take a picture together!â Lori suggested, her voice dropping to a whisper as she turned to Jill. âMy mom wonât admit it, but she loves your book too.â
Jill nodded, finding the idea charming, and invited you to join in. You played along, acting bashful as you handed the phone to Bucky.
Now, it was you, Lori, and Jill posing together.
âOne, two, three, say Tchaikovsky!â Bucky announced with a grin.
You and Lori smiled brightly, both saying âTchaikovsky!â in unison.
But Jill didnât. The color drained from her face as she heard the name. Tchaikovsky. No one ever mentioned that name, not in her circles, not even in passing.
It wasnât a name associated with classical music for herâit was tied to something far more sinister, something only she and a select few knew about. It was the name of a mission, a report she had read, and a man she never wanted to cross paths with again.
Jill froze, her mind racing. How do they know?
Your eyes narrowed as you saw her reaction. It was all the confirmation you needed. The name was a gambleâa code word that only someone with knowledge of the mission would recognize. And Jillâs reaction was telling.
You leaned in close, your voice a whisper that barely reached her ears. âIf you want to live, follow us.â
Jill nodded, her hands trembling as she hurriedly gathered her belongings and followed you out of the cafĂŠ.
As you made your way to the car, you and Bucky exchanged a glance. Both of you noticed the black sedans idling near the cafĂŠ, their drivers watching you intently. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up. You werenât safe yet.
âGet in, quick,â Bucky urged as the four of you piled into the car. He floored the gas, pulling away from the curb just as the sedans roared to life, tires screeching as they gave chase.
Jill clutched her bag tightly, her eyes wide with fear as she glanced back at the cars gaining on you. âWho are they?â she whispered, her voice shaking.
âNot the kind of people you want to meet,â you replied, your tone grim as you kept your eyes on the road ahead.
The chase intensified, with Bucky weaving through traffic, narrowly avoiding collisions as he tried to lose the tail. You kept a close watch on the side mirrors, searching for any sign of an opportunity to shake them off.
Finally, as you approached a busy intersection, Bucky made a sharp turn, diving into a narrow alleyway just as the traffic light turned red. The sedans were forced to a stop, unable to follow.
Bucky didnât slow down until you were several blocks away, the sound of sirens fading into the distance. Only then did he exhale, glancing at you with a look of relief. âWe lost them. For now.â
Jill was still in shock, her mind racing to make sense of what had just happened. You turned to her, your expression serious. âWe need to talk. And youâre going to tell us everything.â
đĽđĽđĽđĽđĽđĽ
In a secluded, dimly lit room, the atmosphere was thick with tension. Jill Krege sat tied to a wooden chair, her hands bound behind her back. The only sound was the faint creak of the old floorboards beneath her feet. Her eyes darted around nervously, landing on the door where you and Bucky stood, your expressions unreadable.
Lori was safely out of sight, back in the car, just as you insisted. This could go bad quickly, and you couldnât risk her being involved.
âNow, Miss Jill,â Bucky began, his voice low and controlled, âtell us. How do you know about the Red Swan mission? Are you with the agency?â
Jillâs head snapped up, panic flashing in her eyes. âNo,â she stammered, shaking her head vigorously. She glanced between you and Bucky, her gaze dropping to the floor as she mumbled, âIâm sorry. Did he send you here for royalties? Iâll prepare the payment as soon as I can.â
Both you and Bucky exchanged a look of surprise. âHe?â you questioned, your tone sharp.
Jill hesitated, too terrified to continue. Her hands trembled, the ropes binding her wrists biting into her skin.
âPlease, believe me,â she pleaded, her voice cracking. âI had no idea the story would blow up like this. Iâm just a failed writer who took another job as a nurse at a nursing home. I changed all the names to make sure they didnât match the reports.â
Buckyâs eyebrows shot up. âMake changes? The mission details, the routes, the street names, the hotel numbers, even the seats at the operaâtheyâre all the same. Youâre a lazy author.â
Jill winced, guilt washing over her. She hadnât had the money to pay for a fact-checker, and the publisher assured her it was fine. Nobody had ever complainedâuntil today.
But then, a realization struck her, and she lifted her head, her eyes widening. âWait a minute! Are you Agent Cipher?â
Her gaze shifted to you. âAnd youâre Agent Nightingale?â
A spark of excitement lit up her face, reminiscent of Loriâs fangirl energy. âOh my God! Both of you are real! I canât believe it!â She looked you and Bucky over, from head to toe, nodding as if something had clicked. âI can see why.â
Bucky sighed inwardly, feeling more exhausted than before. Another one, he thought. âFor the last time, Miss Krege, who gave you the details of this mission?â
Jillâs excitement dimmed slightly as she answered, âIt was Mr. Henry Tucci.â
Your eyes narrowed. âIs he bald, with scars on the back of his head, and only three fingers on his left hand?â
Jillâs eyes widened further. âYes! There are scars on the back of his head, but heâs not bald anymore.â
That was all you needed to hear. The physical description matched perfectly. You knew who Henry Tucci really wasâyour former handler, Mr. Herb.
The one who still had access to those classified reports. Jill wasnât a threat; she was just a nurse who had stumbled upon a treasure trove of secrets and turned them into a novel. But something still didnât add up.
Why would Henry be so careless as to let someone like Jill get her hands on those reports?
âThatâs all we need,â you said, your tone firm but not unkind. You pulled up a chair and began cutting the rope that bound her hands. âThank you for your cooperation.â
Bucky leaned in close to Jill, his voice low and dangerous. âIf a word about us gets out, you know what will happen, right?â
Jill nodded quickly, too frightened to speak.
âWhere is this nursing home?â you asked, your eyes narrowing.
Jill scratched her head, hesitant. âAt Legacy Residence Nursing Home. Itâs not exactly a nursing homeâŚâ
âExplain,â you demanded.
âItâs a nursing home,â Jill began cautiously, âbut itâs also like a prison for elders. Most of them are too old to be in a regular jail.â
You massaged your forehead, frustration mounting. This just got a whole lot more complicated.
âLetâs go,â you said to Bucky, turning on your heel and heading for the door.
âWait, wait⌠I have questions!â Jill called after you, desperation creeping into her voice. âCan I interview you for my next book?â
âNo,â you and Bucky replied in unison, not breaking stride.
âPlease! Maybe I could give the characters a good ending,â Jill insisted.
Your footsteps faltered. âWhat happened to the ending?â you asked, a dangerous edge in your voice.
Jill hesitated, her excitement faltering under your glare. âWell⌠itâs a sad ending. The male character gets shot and falls off a cliff.â
You shot Bucky a look, both of you visibly tensing.
âBut it could be an open ending,â Jill added quickly. âLook at you both nowâyouâre alive!â
âNo,â you repeated, this time more forcefully.
Jill tried to follow you to the car, still pleading her case, but you and Bucky ignored her. Lori, however, couldnât bear to see her idol so dejected. She rolled down the window as you approached.
âMiss Krege, Iâm sorry,â Lori said, her voice small but sincere.
Jill spotted her and asked. âAre you their daughter?â
âLori, donât answer that,â you warned.
Jill reached into her bag and pulled out a card. âIf you have any stories, please contact me. This is my private number.â
Loriâs eyes widened in disbelief. She had just gotten her idolâs number. âYes, you can count on me!â
âBye!â she called out as the car started to move.
Jill waved back, a mix of disappointment and excitement swirling within her. Today was her lucky day. Despite the danger, she had everything she needed for her next bestseller.
Seeing Jillâs figure shrink and eventually disappear from view, Lori adjusted her sitting position and asked, âSo where are we going next?â
âTo a nursing home. This time we need your acting skills again,â you replied.
Lori gave a salute gesture. âAt your service, Sergeant!â Then she turned to Bucky. âDid I do a great job?â
Bucky glanced at her through the rearview mirror. Reaching back, he patted her head. âYou did. Iâm proud of you.â
When Lori heard that, she felt a lump in her throat. It had been a while since sheâd heard those words or had someone pat her head. Buckyâs large hand reminded her of her father. She lowered her head, cleared her throat, and asked, âWhat do I need to do next?â
đĽđĽđĽđĽđĽđĽ
At Legacy Residence Nursing Home, the atmosphere was far from the peaceful retirement community it might appear to be at first glance. This was no ordinary place where elders spent their twilight years in comfort. Instead, it was a luxurious prison, a haven for former criminals who were too powerful and wealthy to serve time in a regular jail.
The residents here were dangerous individuals, their pasts shrouded in secrecy, and though it was technically a prison, the price of admission ensured that their surroundings were lavish. Guards patrolled the grounds, and the security was tight, but family visits were almost unheard of.
Most of the criminals housed here had long since alienated any relatives, and their only visitors were usually lawyers managing their affairs.
So when you and Lori walked through the front doors, your presence caused quite a stir. The guards exchanged puzzled glances, and the receptionist at the front desk looked up in surprise as you approached.
âHello,â you greeted her politely, keeping your voice calm and composed.
âYes, ma'am. How can I help you?â the receptionist replied, her tone professional but tinged with curiosity.
You cleared your throat, mentally preparing yourself for the act you were about to put on. âYes, uhm, Iâd like to visit my father, Mr. Henry Tucci.â
The receptionistâs fingers flew over the keyboard, searching the system. âUhm, Mr. Tucci doesnât have any listed family.â
A wave of relief washed over you. He was here, and he was alive. You quickly composed yourself, shifting your expression to one of sadness and regret. âIâm sorry. Yes, itâs been a long time since I last saw my father. We⌠cut ties because of his job.â
The receptionistâs gaze softened, understanding flashing in her eyes. She was well aware of the type of people housed here, and it wasnât hard to imagine a child distancing themselves from a criminal parent.
âAnd my daughter,â you continued, pulling Lori closer to your side, âshe wants to meet her grandfather.â
Lori played her part flawlessly. She looked up at the receptionist with wide, innocent eyes, her lower lip quivering slightly as she clutched a piece of paper tightly in her hands.
The paper, folded neatly, had âNice to meet you, Grandpaâ scrawled on it in Loriâs careful handwriting. She glanced at the receptionist, her expression a perfect mix of hope and nervousness.
The sight of Loriâs apparent longing to meet her grandfather was enough to tug at anyoneâs heartstrings. The receptionistâs resolve visibly softened, and she gave you both a sympathetic look. âNo matter what, heâs still family, right?â
You nodded, your eyes shimmering with unshed tears, as you reached up to wipe them away with the tip of your finger. âYes, exactly. Thank you so much for understanding.â
Moved by the emotion in the air, the receptionist handed you two guest necklaces. âIâll let your father know about the surprise. Heâll be delighted to have his daughter and granddaughter visiting him.â
You accepted the necklaces with a grateful nod, giving her a tearful smile. âThank you,â you murmured, holding onto Loriâs hand as you prepared to face what came next.
đĽđĽđĽđĽđĽđĽ
You and Lori waited in the garden, a beautifully landscaped area that seemed more fitting for a high-end resort than a prison. The sun was shining, birds chirped in the distance, and the gentle breeze rustled the leaves of the meticulously maintained trees.
If it weren't for the discreetly placed guards and the subtle sense of tension in the air, it would be easy to forget that this was a place where some of the world's most dangerous criminals were confined.
Lori, ever the curious and bold teenager, was taking everything in with wide eyes. She wasnât scared at all; in fact, you almost wished she were, if only to make her a bit more cautious.
Instead, she leaned closer to you, her voice barely above a whisper as she said, "Aunt, that guard over there is handsome. I could see his muscles from here. I wouldnât mind staying in a place like this."
You couldnât help but roll your eyes at her casual remark. "Youâd have to be a criminal first. A threatening and powerful one at that."
Lori pondered this for a moment, her brow furrowing in mock seriousness. "Hmm⌠what should I do to qualify?"
Before you could reply, you heard a voice behind you, gravelly yet carrying a tone of amused resignation. âThey thought I had dementia when I told them I donât have a daughter or granddaughter.â
You turned to see Henry Tucci approaching. He was an older man in his seventies, his hair a silvery gray that matched the fine lines etched into his weathered face. He wore a pair of glasses that gave him a scholarly look, more like a retired professor than the feared handler he once was.
The years had softened his once intimidating presence, but there was still a sharpness in his eyes that hinted at the formidable man he used to be.
âI guess so. Otherwise, you wouldnât have let your nurse read the âRed Swanâ project,â you replied, keeping your tone even, though the irritation was evident. âDid you forget to secure it properly?â
Henry raised an eyebrow, a smile playing on his lips. âSo thatâs why youâre here,â he said, his voice carrying a hint of satisfaction. âI remember that young nurse. She had quick hands. If the agency still existed, I wouldâve hired her.â
As he spoke, his gaze shifted to Lori, who had been watching him with open curiosity. âYou have a daughter?â he asked, a touch of surprise in his voice.
âMy niece,â you clarified.
Lori, ever polite despite the strange circumstances, waved her hand. âHello.â
Henry returned the gesture with a warm smile. âHello, young lady.â
âWhy did you bring your niece here?â he asked you.
âIt was because of her that I found out about this,â you replied, pulling out a copy of The Red Swan from your bag. You held it up for Henry to see, the cover prominently displaying the book that had unintentionally exposed so many secrets.
Henry lit his cigar, letting the smoke curl lazily around him before he spoke again. âAh, yes, that book.â His tone was dismissive but carried an undercurrent of grudging respect. "Itâs quite the little troublemaker, isnât it? Also, the most interesting mission the agency got."
You rolled your eyes and decided to keep the conversation light for now. âHow many years did you get?â
Henryâs eyes twinkled with a dark amusement. âFor life.â
âI canât exactly feel sorry for you,â you said, glancing around the picturesque garden. âThis place is like heaven.â
Henry lit a cigar, taking a deep inhale before speaking. âTry living here with killers, mafias, and corrupt officials for a few days. My hands itch to strangle their necksââ
You cleared your throat sharply, a pointed reminder of Loriâs presence. Henry caught himself, glancing at Lori before exhaling the smoke and growing more serious. âWhere is he?â
âWho?â you asked, though you already knew.
âYour flame, your lover, the traitor,â Henry replied, his tone a mix of disdain and curiosity. Despite Buckyâs potential, Henry had always resented him. Buckyâs betrayal of the agency had been a personal slight.
You avoided his question, focusing on the pressing matter. âFirst, tell me why you let a civilian read the mission report,â you demanded. âAnd why was a writer chosen to care for you?â
Henry chuckled softly, tapping his fingers on the table as he considered his answer. âYouâve always had a sharp mind,â he said, a note of pride in his voice. âYes, I chose her because of her background. And yes, I let her take the report.â
âWhy?â you pressed, trying to make sense of his reckless actions.
âBecause Iâm bored,â Henry replied, his casual tone catching you off guard.
You leaned forward, anger simmering. âBecause of you, everyone knows about the mission. And now, theyâre chasing me and him.â
Henryâs expression remained unchanged, though a flicker of amusement or regret passed through his eyes. âOh,â he responded, almost dismissively.
âI could make them stop,â Henry offered as if it were a trivial matter. His eyes glinted with a mix of challenge and opportunity. âAs long as you can get me out of here.â
You crossed your arms, your eyes narrowing. âYou planned this, didnât you? You wanted us to come here, to get you out. You want to escape.â
Henryâs smile widened, confirming your suspicions. Jillâs success with the book had not been a mere coincidence; it was a carefully orchestrated plan by Henry himself. He had been pulling the strings from within his gilded cage, manipulating events from the confines of the nursing home.
The real motive behind his actions was far less straightforward than mere boredom. For Henry, it was akin to a twisted game of treasure hunting. He was driven by an intense curiosity, a desire to see which of his old connections would notice the hidden clues buried in the pages of The Red Swan.
What would happen next? Who would come looking? It was a way to inject a bit of excitement into his otherwise monotonous existence.
Over the year since the bookâs release, he had watched with a mix of disappointment and impatience. There had been no significant fallout, no grand revelationsâuntil today. But to be honest, he hadnât anticipated that you, one of his top agents, would be the one to unravel his little game.
And even more surprising was the role of your niece in the discovery. The unexpected involvement of a teenager had added a layer of complexity he hadnât counted on.
Henry leaned back in his chair, his gaze shifting between you and Lori. âYou see, it was never just about the book or the chaos it created. It was about the challengeâtesting the waters, seeing if anyone was sharp enough to pick up on the clues Iâd planted.â
He chuckled softly, a glint of amusement in his eyes. âI didnât expect you to come here. I didnât expect a teenager to be the key to solving my little puzzle. But here you are, proving that even in a place like this, things can still get interesting.â
You stared at him, grappling with the realization that his manipulation had been far more intricate than youâd initially thought. His aim had been to create a ripple effect, to see who would react and how.
âI taught you well,â Henry admitted a hint of pride in his voice. âNow, whereâs Bucky?â
You remained silent, giving him nothing.
Unfazed, Henry took another slow puff of his cigar. âIâm the agentsâ handler. I know everyoneâs real name.â
You stayed quiet, but he continued, undeterred. âHeâs already preparing to get you out of here.â
Henry clapped his hands together, clearly pleased. âI knew I could count on you two.â
Lori, who had been listening intently, suddenly spoke up. âWow⌠really mind-blowing!â She looked at Henry with wide-eyed admiration. âSir, youâre a genius.â
Henry chuckled, clearly enjoying the compliment. âHahaha⌠thank you, little girl.â
âAre you satisfied with what youâve done?â you asked, your voice tight with frustration. You clenched your fist, the knuckles whitening as you tried to keep your anger in check.
"You're not exactly blameless yourself," Henry said, his voice carrying a hint of mockery. "You also betrayed the agency."
That was why you and Bucky had been chasedâbecause the previous agency you worked for had also turned against you both.
You shot him a cold look. "Itâs what we do."
Henry smirked. âTouchĂŠ.â
Just then, a guard and the receptionist who had helped you and Lori enter the nursing home appeared. The guard announced, âMr. Tucci, your visiting time is over.â
Henry rose from his seat and spread his arms, a crooked smile on his face. He looked at you and Lori expectantly, as if waiting for a family embrace. As you moved closer, he leaned in and whispered, "Iâll be expecting my ride. And donât forget, you owe me."
âWhat do you mean?â you asked, narrowing your eyes.
Henryâs grin widened. âWithout this book, you and Bucky wouldnât have ended up together.â
Lori, with a bright smile, chimed in, âHeâs right!â
Lori, her face lit up with a bright smile, chimed in, âHeâs right!â She and Henry shared a laugh, the camaraderie between them almost palpable. Meanwhile, you managed only a tight strained smile.
To the guard and receptionist, it looked like a touching family reunion. In reality, you were itching to punch this old man in the face. You forced a smile, though the tension in your shoulders betrayed your true feelings.
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Author Note: Hey friends,
If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi đđť
This just gets better and better! â¨ď¸ Felt a bit bad for Jill with how excited she was to meet a fan, only to get interrogated - glad she's okay! And Henry, aah I can't quite read that man! I kinda want to like his character for some reason? Anyways, I can't wait for the next part đ
Summary: It was supposed to be a short week watching over your niece, who loves romance books. She thought you were just a normal aunt, but it turns out you have secrets.
Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi đđť
Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. â¤ď¸
The car ride was tense, with only the sound of tires humming against the asphalt breaking the silence. You stared out the window, watching the trees blur by, trying to suppress the anxiety gnawing at you.
âWe need to get to the train station,â you suggested, breaking the silence.
Buckyâs grip on the steering wheel tightened. âToo risky. We have to stay low for a while.â
You nodded, your mind racing through the possibilities. If a motel or hotel was too dangerous, where could you go? âWe should camp. I have the gear in the car.â
Bucky glanced at you, a small nod of approval. âGood.â
The awkward silence returned, thick and suffocating, until a small voice broke through.
âThis is destiny,â Lori murmured, her face lighting up as she reached into her bag to pull out a notebook. She began scribbling furiously.
You and Bucky exchanged a confused look. âWhatâs got you writing all of a sudden?â you asked, raising an eyebrow.
âNew ideas for my fanfiction,â Lori said, her tone excited.
You sighed, running a hand through your hair. âLoriâŚâ
Bucky kept driving, his eyes scanning the road ahead until he found a secluded area surrounded by trees. He maneuvered the car off the road, hiding it as best he could among the foliage.
âWho is she, really?â Bucky asked, his tone serious.
âMy niece,â you replied, your voice low.
Lori, sensing the conversation was about her, raised her hand like she was in class. âOh, I have a confession to make. Iâm the one who replied to your email.â
Buckyâs eyes widened as he turned to you, his expression a mix of disbelief and something else. âCanât say Iâm not a little disappointed. But thanks to her, I finally know your real name.â
Lori, completely missing the tension in the air, beamed. âYou didnât even know each otherâs names, but you kept looking for her? Thatâs so romantic.â
Bucky shot you a look, his expression unreadable, but the way his gaze lingered made you uncomfortable. Was she really your niece? He couldnât help but wonder.
You shook your head, grabbing your bag and pulling out a burner phone. You needed to call your sister and let her know you were taking Lori with you, that things had gotten⌠complicated.
Lori, oblivious to the serious undertone of the situation, watched you and Bucky closely, analyzing every glance and gesture. Through her writerâs lens, she saw the tension between you two as something else entirely. She grinned, her mind already spinning a new story of enemies-turned-lovers.
âUh, I have a question,â Lori piped up. âAfter I replied, did you immediately read it?â
Bucky didnât answer, his silence louder than any words could be. Lori took it as confirmation. âSo, before you replied, you rushed to find my cool aunt, and when you got closer, you finally sent it. Thatâs such dedication to chasing love.â She squealed, hugging her notebook to her chest like a love-struck fangirl.
đĽđĽđĽđĽ
Both of you walked in silence, the tension between you growing thicker with every step. You stayed close to the car, unwilling to stray too far, as if the vehicle was the only thing grounding you in this increasingly chaotic world.
âWe canât be together,â you finally said, your voice heavy with regret.
âButââ Bucky began, but you cut him off.
Without a word, you reached up and tugged down your collar, revealing a line of jagged scars etched into the skin of your neck. You usually kept them hidden under layers of makeup, but today, there was no time for that. The collar had been your only shield.
âThese⌠they still haunt me,â you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper.
Buckyâs eyes softened, and without hesitation, he pulled up his shirt to reveal the scars marring his shoulder. The sight of them made your heart twist with guilt.
âItâs not just you,â he said, his voice low and filled with a shared pain. He stepped closer, the distance between you shrinking as if it was the most natural thing in the world. âWe were both in the wrong.â
In the world of espionage, trust was a luxury neither of you could afford. You had been a double agent, living in the gray area between loyalty and betrayal. Bucky, a triple agent, had danced even closer to the edge. The scars you both bore were reminders of the countless times trust had been shattered.
The real reason you were being hunted wasnât just because you were a skilled operative; it was because you had broken a vow. You had promised never to contact Bucky again, a promise made under the threat of being burned by your agency. But you had broken that promise, and now, you were paying the price.
âBuckyâŚâ you whispered, your voice filled with an ache you couldnât suppress. But your words died in your throat as you caught sight of movement behind a tree.
Lori. Your creative, ever-curious niece was hiding, scribbling furiously in her notebook as if she was documenting your every word.
âSo, both of them feel guilty. It haunts them,â Lori muttered to herself, her eyes wide with fascination as she jotted down her thoughts.
You sighed deeply, the weight of everything crashing down on you. You marched over to Lori, grabbing her bag with a grunt. âWhy is this so heavy?â you demanded, feeling the strain in your arm. Then it hit you. âDidnât I tell you not to bring your books?â
Lori snatched her bag back, clutching it to her chest protectively. âNo! I canât live without them. This one is my favorite.â
You sighed again, rubbing your temples as if it would somehow alleviate the stress of the situation. Arguing with Lori was pointless; she was as stubborn as you were. You glanced over at Bucky, who had been watching the exchange with an amused yet concerned look.
âWe should set up camp here,â you said, your voice resigned but firm.
Bucky nodded, but the way his eyes lingered on you told you that he wasnât just agreeing to the plan; he was agreeing to this unspoken understanding that, despite everything, you were in this together, whether you liked it or not.
As you began to unpack the gear, the reality of your situation weighed heavily on you. The scars, the guilt, the constant runningâit was all too much. But here you were, setting up camp in the middle of nowhere with a man who was both your greatest ally and your deepest regret, and a niece who seemed determined to make you believe again in romance.
And all you could think about was how much it hurt, how much it haunted you, and how much you wished things could be different. But in the world you lived in, wishes were just as dangerous as promises.
đĽđĽđĽđĽđĽ
After setting up the camp, you busied yourself with preparing dinner. The sun had dipped below the horizon, leaving behind a dusky twilight that painted the sky in shades of purple and orange.
The scent of the forest mingled with the aroma of the food, creating a comforting atmosphere that contrasted sharply with the tension from earlier.
Bucky sat by the lake, his figure a dark silhouette against the shimmering water. He occasionally stole glances in your direction, watching as you moved with practiced efficiency. The sight of you, so capable and yet so burdened, stirred something in him that he couldnât quite name.
A soft voice broke the stillness. âđľIâm just a talking plant, donât mind me,đľâ Lori sang in a playful, lilting tone as she twirled her way over to Bucky. She stopped beside him, her eyes gleaming with mischief. âDo you like my aunt?â she asked, her tone innocent yet oddly probing.
Bucky blinked, caught off guard by the directness of the question. Whatâs wrong with this kid? He raised an eyebrow, trying to mask his surprise.
Lori, undeterred by his silence, continued with a knowing smile. âI get it. Youâre a man of few words. Youâre exactly like the male character from this book.â
She held up the novel sheâd been carrying, the title "The Red Swan" emblazoned on the cover. Bucky tilted his head, the title vaguely familiar but not enough to place it.
âAre you really her niece?â Bucky asked, his curiosity piqued by Loriâs strange mix of wisdom and childlike wonder.
Lori shrugged a carefree gesture that spoke volumes. âMy dad is a theater teacher.â
Bucky nodded slowly, the pieces falling into place. That explained a lotâher flair for the dramatic, her perceptiveness, her relentless curiosity.
âHere,â Lori said, thrusting the romance novel into his hands.
âWhy?â Bucky asked, looking down at the book with a mix of skepticism and curiosity.
Lori sighed as if explaining something painfully obvious. âItâs as clear as the sky is blue that you like my aunt. But you never express it. If your actions alone arenât enough, you need to use your words. From the start, youâve only said thirty-one words. None of us can read each otherâs minds.â
Bucky found himself unexpectedly impressed. This kid had been counting his words? And, annoyingly enough, she was right. He glanced at Lori, who gave him a confident salute, her eyes twinkling with a mix of innocence and cunning.
âTrust me,â she said with a playful wink before scampering back over to you, her small figure darting between the trees with the energy of a whirlwind.
Bucky watched her go, a slight smile tugging at the corners of his lips. There was something endearing about Loriâs antics, the way she seemed to bring a different side out of you, a side he hadnât seen before. A side he realized he wanted to know more about.
He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts, and looked down at the book Lori had handed him. Romance novels had never been his thing, but something about the way she insisted piqued his interest.
He flipped to the summary on the back cover, his eyebrows raising in mild surprise at the plot. It was more intricate than heâd expected, with themes of loyalty, betrayal, and forbidden love woven through the narrative.
Intrigued despite himself, Bucky began reading, his fingers brushing the pages as he turned them. As he read, his breath hitched slightly. The story was compelling, drawing him in with its depth and emotion. âThis is⌠interesting,â he murmured to himself, unable to deny the pull of the story.
đĽđĽđĽđĽđĽ
The next morning, the three of you made your way to the train station. It was too risky to fly; the airport would be crawling with potential threats. You handled the ticket counter, purchasing a ticket for Lori while she waited with Bucky a short distance away. She noticed the way he kept his eyes on you, his gaze lingering as if trying to memorize every detail.
Unable to stand the silence any longer, Lori leaned over and pinched his thigh. âYou should talk to her,â she whispered, her tone insistent.
Just then, you returned, holding the tickets in your hand. âAlright, I got it,â you said, glancing at Bucky. âI guess this is goodbye. Thanks for helping us.â Your voice was steady, but there was an undercurrent of something unsaid, a tension that hung in the air.
Bucky hesitated, his thoughts warring within him. Then, out of nowhere, he felt a sharp kick to his shin. Lori again, urging him forward. âSay something before you lose this chance!â she hissed.
âSeven years,â Bucky finally said, his voice rough with emotion.
âWhat?â You turned to him, confused by his sudden declaration.
âIâve been looking for you and waiting for seven years,â he continued, his eyes locking onto yours.
The words hit you like a tidal wave, stirring up emotions youâd buried deep. Your breath caught in your throat, and your heart pounded in your chest. Seven years. The weight of those words hung between you, thickening the air. Lori squealed beside you, her excitement palpable, but you could barely hear her over the rush of blood in your ears.
Bucky took a step closer, his voice lowering to a near whisper. âI never stopped thinking about you. I never stopped searching. Every lead, every dead endâit all brought me back to you.â
Before you could respond, a sudden prickle of awareness swept over you. You didnât have to look around to knowâyou were being watched. Instinct kicked in, and you grabbed Loriâs hand. âWe have to go,â you said urgently, pulling her along.
âBut Aunt, heâs not done!â Lori protested, glancing back at Bucky as you hurried away.
Bucky was right behind you, not willing to let you slip away again. âWe canât stay together, Bucky!â you insisted, your voice edged with both desperation and regret.
âYouâre going to Massachusetts,â he replied, undeterred. âI want to go there too.â
âWhy?â you demanded, your eyes narrowing.
Bucky held up the book that Lori had given him. âBecause of this.â He pointed to the title on the cover, his expression serious.
âThe Red Swan.â The words rolled off your tongue with a sense of familiarity that sent a shiver down your spine. The title dredged up old memories, ones youâd tried hard to forget.
Bucky saw the recognition in your eyes and pressed on. âFrom what Iâve readââ
âYou read it?â Lori interrupted, her voice tinged with awe.
âFrom what Iâve read,â Bucky continued, his gaze never leaving yours, âthe mission in this book mirrors the one we had. The same code names, the same hotel roomsâŚâ
Lori gasped, her eyes wide with amazement. âOh wow!â
âYou donât meanââ you started, your mind racing to catch up.
Bucky nodded grimly. âI need to see the author of this novel. Whatâs his deal? How does a romance author know so much about a mission we both lived through? The details are too precise to be coincidence.â
Your heart pounded harder, and you exchanged a glance with Bucky. The implications were chilling. Someone out there knew far too much about your pastâa past that was supposed to be buried. And now, that knowledge was in the pages of a book for anyone to read.
"Let's go," you said, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside. But then you hesitated, realizing, "Oh, but I didnât buy your ticket."
Bucky chuckled softly, a rare sound that almost made you smile. "Iâll handle it," he replied, his confidence soothing your worry.
The three of you boarded the train, slipping into a quiet compartment. Lori, practically bouncing with excitement, clasped her hands together. She was thrilled that you and Bucky werenât parting ways.
Unable to contain her joy, she started singing softly, âđľWeâre all in this togetherâŚđľâ
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Author Note: Hey friends,
If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi đđť
Summary: It was supposed to be a short week watching over your niece, who loves romance books. She thought you were just a normal aunt, but it turns out you have secrets.
Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi đđť
Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. â¤ď¸
The weight of the assassin's body presses down on you, pinning you to the ground as his sword hovers dangerously close to your throat. Every muscle in your arms strains as you hold your gun up, barely keeping the blade away from your neck.
The cold metal of the sword gleams under the dim light, a stark reminder of how close you are to death. His eyes, hidden behind the mask, are unreadable, but you can feel the murderous intent radiating from him.
Sweat drips down your forehead, mixing with the dirt and blood on your face as you grit your teeth. With every ounce of strength, you manage to growl, "You're dead to me."
For a split second, you see itâhesitation. The assassinâs grip falters, his focus wavering. Thatâs all you need. With a desperate shove, you push him off, the sword sliding away from your neck as you scramble to your feet. Your heart pounds in your chest as adrenaline takes over, and you start running, not daring to look back.
The echoes of your past, the regrets, and the pain are left behind as you sprint away. You know that youâve bought yourself only a few precious seconds, but at this moment, itâs enough. You leave the assassin behind, along with everything that once bound you.
đĽđĽđĽđĽ
The lodge is warm and inviting, nestled comfortably by the edge of a tranquil lake. Large windows allow sunlight to pour in, casting a golden glow across the rustic wooden floors. The living room is cozy, with a soft, earth-toned sofa positioned near a stone fireplace. You push the sofa slightly, adjusting its angle to better face the window, where the view of the lake creates a peaceful backdrop.
As you finish, the sound of the doorbell rings through the house. You straighten up, smoothing a hand over your clothes before heading to the door. When you open it, a smile crosses your face.
Standing there is Lori Grant, your niece. Sheâs dressed in a green shirt and black pants, her short hair with bangs framing her face beneath thick glasses. A pink backpack is slung over one shoulder, and sheâs dragging a suitcase that looks far too big for her small frame.
âHello, Aunty,â Lori greets you, her voice bright with excitement.
âWhereâs your mom?â you ask, glancing past her.
âShe just left,â Lori replies, stepping inside and immediately struggling with the weight of her suitcase. She lets out a frustrated âUghâ as it catches on the doorstep.
You canât help but chuckle softly. âLet me help you with that.â Gripping the handle, you lift the suitcase easily, though you wonder why a 13-year-old needs so much luggage.
As you bring the suitcase inside, you ask, âAre you hungry? I bought some tofu for you.â Your older sisterâs voice echoes in your mind, reminding you of the strict health-conscious diet she keeps Lori on. Sheâs made a name for herself online with her healthy recipes, and now sheâs on a book tour promoting her new cookbook.
Lori looks up at you, her eyes filled with a mix of relief and hope. âAunty, Iâm so excited to be here. I can finally get away from the food my mom makes.â
You laugh, a warm, understanding sound. âOh, thank goodness. How about fried chicken or lasagna?â
Loriâs face lights up, her hands clasping together as if in prayer. âWhy not both?â Her eyes shimmer with anticipation, almost teary at the thought of indulging in something sheâs missed.
âYes!â you reply with a grin, already planning the feast.
đĽđĽđĽđĽđĽ
The two of you cook together, filling the kitchen with the mouthwatering aroma of fried chicken and lasagna. The sizzle of the food and the warmth of the stove creates a cozy atmosphere, and before long, youâre both sitting at the table, enjoying the meal.
Lori, barely looking up from her book, eats with a hearty appetite, tearing into the fried chicken and savoring the lasagna.
You glance at her, amused by how engrossed she is in her book. Itâs refreshing to see someone her age so absorbed in reading rather than staring at a screen. Sheâs been glued to that book ever since she arrived.
âIs it a good book?â you ask, taking a sip of your water.
âYes. The best,â she replies without lifting her eyes from the pages.
You smile and ask, âWhatâs the book about?â
At that, Lori snaps the novel shut and looks at you with excitement blazing in her eyes, as if sheâs been waiting for this moment. âOh, Aunty, this is the best book! Itâs full of adrenaline, mystery, and romance.â
You raise your eyebrows and nod slowly, recognizing the same spark in her that your older sister often has. âLet me guess, a royal romance?â
Lori shakes her head enthusiastically. âNo. Itâs set in modern day. Itâs an enemies-to-lovers story where both are spies from different sides. They have to decide between love and their duty.â
You nod again, your expression thoughtful. âThatâs impossible in the real world.â
Lori huffs, rolling her eyes playfully. âThatâs why itâs fantasy, Aunty. Geez, you sound just like my mom.â She returns to her book, burying herself in the story again.
You chuckle softly, setting your glass down as you gather your plate and stand up. âWell, usually betrayal happens in those stories.â
Lori looks up, her eyes wide with enthusiasm. âThatâs right! Thereâs a part where the male character betrays the female character.â
Your hand slips, the plate clattering into the sink, but thankfully it doesnât break.
âAunty, are you okay?â Lori asks, concern in her voice.
âIâm fine. My hand just slipped,â you say, brushing it off with a smile.
Lori gets up, carrying her plate to the sink. âIâm already done. Iâll help you with the dishes.â
âThank you,â you reply, appreciating her help.
As you both wash the dishes, you ask her about life at school. Lori tells you all about her friends, her classes, and the things that make her happy.
âDo you have a crush at school?â you ask, a teasing note in your voice.
Lori hesitates, a slight blush coloring her cheeks. âWell⌠there is one boy. His hair and smile remind me of the male character from the spy book.â
You nearly drop the spatula but manage to catch it just in time. Whatâs gotten into you today?
âWhat about you, Aunty?â Lori asks, her tone curious.
âMe?â you respond, a bit caught off guard.
âWhile living in this lodge, have you ever met a farmer with a six-pack, a cute cafĂŠ owner, or a cool police officer?â Lori asks, her eyes twinkling with mischief.
You gasp, her question catching you by surprise. âYour mom mentioned youâve become quite the chatterbox.â
âAunty, your life is a dream. You have it allâexcept a boyfriend,â Lori says matter-of-factly. She doesnât fully understand what you do for a living, but she knows from her mom and grandparents that youâve traveled the world and are now enjoying the fruits of your hard work.
You place your hands on your hips, eyeing her with a mock sternness. âHow long have you been staying with Grandma?â
âThree weeks,â Lori answers, wiping a plate dry with a clean cloth.
âThat explains it,â you say with a chuckle, ruffling her hair playfully. Your mother has a habit of prying into your love life, and youâve overheard her sighing over the phone, saying, âIâm afraid sheâll die single.â
âBut seriously, Aunty, why are you still single?â Lori asks, her eyes wide with innocent curiosity.
You look at her, a sigh escaping your lips. âWhen youâre older, youâll understand that life is complicated. Thereâs no guarantee of a happy ending.â
âSeems like you donât believe in romance anymore,â she says, her voice soft but probing.
âLoriâŚâ you begin, but her words strike a chord in you. Kids have a way of getting straight to your feelings. You head to the living room, trying to shake off the conversation and turn on the TV. With a sigh, you throw yourself onto the couch.
Lori follows you, still determined to rekindle your belief in romance. But then, something catches her eye. âAunty, whatâs on the second floor?â
âJust a storage room. Full of dust and spiders,â you reply, waving a hand dismissively.
âCan I go up there?â she asks, her enthusiasm barely contained.
âGo ahead,â you say, smiling at her eagerness.
As soon as the words leave your mouth, you hear her running feet thudding up the stairs. You shake your head, chuckling to yourself. What happened to the little girl who was afraid of spiders? Maybe the influence of that action-packed novel, the fantasy world, pulled her in.
đĽđĽđĽđĽđĽ
Loriâs eyes lit up with excitement as she explored the second floor, her steps quickening with each new discovery. It felt like a treasure hunt to her, the dusty corners and forgotten items fueling her curiosity.
She opened old boxes, sifted through forgotten knick-knacks, and rummaged through piles of clutter. Her heart raced with the thrill of the search, every creak of the floorboards adding to the sense of adventure.
Then, tucked away near the Christmas decorations, she spotted a plain, unassuming box. It didnât look like much, but something about it caught her attention. With a soft gasp of anticipation, she opened it and found an old, bulky laptop inside. The device was covered in dust, its once sleek surface now dull and scratched.
âWow,â Lori whispered, her eyes widening in awe. She lifted the laptop carefully and opened it, running her fingers over the keys. âClicky, clicky. Love this keyboard,â she said, delighting in the tactile response of the keys beneath her fingers.
Unable to contain her excitement, Lori ran downstairs to find you, clutching the laptop in her arms like a prized possession. âAunty, look what I found! This is so old, and I love the sound it makes!â
You glanced up and your eyes widened in surprise. âWhere did you get that?â you asked, a mix of surprise and concern in your voice.
âNear the Christmas decorations. Can I turn it on?â she asked, her eyes shining with eagerness.
You shook your head, a hint of hesitation creeping into your tone. âItâs been a long time since I turned it on,â you admitted, memories flickering at the edge of your mind. You had pretended the laptop didnât exist for so long that it had slipped from your thoughts entirely.
âIâll throw it away,â you said, reaching out to take the laptop from her.
But Lori quickly pulled it back, guarding the laptop protectively. âEven if itâs broken, I could use this for throwback videos,â she argued, her determination evident.
You sighed, seeing the pleading look in her eyes. âFine. You can have it,â you relented.
âThank you!â Lori beamed, her smile so bright that any irritation you felt melted away. She hugged the laptop close and dashed off to the guest room, eager to play with her new toy.
Inside her room, Loriâs excitement was palpable. She carefully plugged the charger into the old laptop and pressed the power button, holding her breath in anticipation. But the screen remained dark, the laptop unresponsive.
Her enthusiasm waned slightly, but she didnât give up. Determined, she searched online for ways to fix old laptops, flipping the device upside down to look for a serial number or brand name. But the markings were too faded to read.
Her hope began to crumble as she realized the laptop might never work again. With a sigh, she set it aside and opened her suitcase, revealing stacks of novels inside. This was the real reason she had wanted to stay with youâto immerse herself in her books without anyone bothering her.
As the night wore on, the clock crept closer to 10 p.m. You yawned, feeling the weight of the day settle in, and turned off the TV. Before heading to bed, you decided to check on Lori. When you peeked into her room, you found her already fast asleep, curled up with a new book clutched in her hands.
You smiled softly, understanding now what was in her suitcase. With a gentle chuckle, you carefully adjusted her sleeping posture and tucked her in, whispering, âGood night.â
As you left, you saw the old black laptop still plugged in, silently charging in the corner. It had been nearly seven years since you last thought about it. You shook your head, a mix of relief and resignation washing over you. It was better if that thing stayed dead, buried in the past where it belonged.
đĽđĽđĽđĽđĽ
The next morning, Lori woke up feeling cozy under the blankets. She glanced around, realizing she must have fallen asleep while reading her book again. The comforting silence in the room was a welcome change from the usual yelling of her mother.
This is why staying with you was such a great idea. She turned her attention to the old laptop, remembering she had left it charging all night.
With renewed hope, she quickly jumped out of bed and moved to the laptop. She pressed the power button, but the screen remained stubbornly black. Disappointment settled over her like a heavy fog.
Then, she heard itâthe faint hum of the laptopâs fan. Her eyes widened, and a gasp escaped her lips. She clapped her hands together in excitement. âYes!â
Just then, you called from the kitchen, your voice carrying cheerfully through the house. âLori! Youâve woken up? Iâve made breakfast.â
âIâm not hungry yet,â Lori replied, her focus still on the laptop, waiting for the screen to light up.
âItâs bacon and eggs,â you added, a hint of a smile in your voice.
The mention of bacon and eggs immediately captured Loriâs attention. It had been ages since sheâd had a breakfast like that. âIâm coming!â she called out, her voice filled with enthusiasm.
Without another thought, Lori dashed out of her room, leaving the old laptop to continue its quiet struggle to turn on. Her excitement for breakfast had completely overshadowed her frustration with the laptop, and she hurried to the kitchen, eager for the delicious meal you had prepared.
After breakfast, Lori returned to her room, and her excitement about the old laptop reignited. As she entered, she was stunned to see that the laptop had finally powered up completely.
Her eyes widened in disbelief as she stared at the outdated app icons, which looked dull and unappealing. Despite their lack of charm, something else caught her eye: the email application.
Curiosity piqued, Lori navigated to the email app and discovered a list of old emails. She wondered if the laptop could connect to Wi-Fi. To her delight, it could. She connected it and noticed a new notification. Her heart raced as she clicked on it, only to find a single new email dated five years ago.
âThis is like something out of a novel,â Lori whispered to herself, her fingers trembling slightly as she opened the email.
Her gasp was audible when she realized it wasnât spam or a work emailâit was a love letter. She read the email with growing excitement:
Subject: An Apology and a Request
Hi,
I hope this message finds you well. Iâve been carrying a heavy heart and wanted to reach out, even though itâs been a while. I left the organization and have started a new life, but Iâve realized that it wonât feel complete without you.
Iâm deeply sorry for everything that happened and for the pain I caused you. I know that I have no right to ask for anything, but if thereâs any chance for us to meet and talk, Iâd really like that. Iâm not expecting anything, but I hope we can find some closure.
Yours,
B.B
Loriâs eyes sparkled with excitement. This was even better than the romance novels she had read. She couldnât believe her aunt had an ex who had been missing her all this time and had finally reached out after five years.
Feeling a burst of inspiration, Lori unplugged the laptop and raced downstairs to find you. âAunt! Look! Look! Someone sent you an apology letter!â she exclaimed, her voice filled with excitement.
You were busy preparing to head out to your bee farm, dressed in your suit. The sight of the old laptop suddenly turning on and Loriâs enthusiasm about the email caught you off guard. You knew exactly who had sent it, and it brought a wave of mixed emotions.
With a sigh, you closed the laptop, noticing Loriâs disappointed look. You knelt to her level, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. âLori, sometimes itâs best to leave the past where it is.â
âButâŚâ she started, her voice trailing off.
You stood up, adjusting your head protection for the farm. âJust enjoy your time here,â you said gently, then headed out of the house.
Lori sighed, her heart heavy with the sadness in your voice. She could sense the pain behind your words and felt that maybe this person was someone special to you. A sudden idea struck her, and she rushed back to her room, placed the old laptop on the table, and began typing a reply.
With her knowledge of romance novels, she crafted a short but heartfelt response:
Subject: Re: An Apology and a Request
Hi B.B,
Thank you for your message. It was a surprise to read your letter after all these years. I appreciate your honesty and the courage it took to reach out. Iâm still processing everything, but Iâm grateful for your apology.
Maybe one day we can talk, but for now, I hope you find the closure youâre seeking.
Take care,
Y/N
Satisfied with her words, Lori clicked âSend,â feeling accomplished. She hoped her reply would bring peace to her aunt and the sender.
đĽđĽđĽđĽđĽ
A few days passed, and Lori grew increasingly nervous. She kept checking the email, but no new notifications appeared, only that eerie computer-generated voice. You noticed her restlessness; she fidgeted with her fingers and paced around the room.
âWhatâs wrong? Feeling bored?â you asked, trying to lighten the mood. âWe could go out for a while, get some fresh air.â
âEww⌠no,â Lori replied, wrinkling her nose at the thought of the hot sun and heavy gear. She enjoyed the freedom of staying with you, but she wasnât enthusiastic about adventures.
âIâd rather stay here, curled up with my bookââ Lori was cut off by the familiar, unsettling notification sound.
You flinched at the sound too, a chill creeping down your spine. Lori quickly ran to the laptop, her heart racing with excitement as she saw the red dot notification. She opened the email and skimmed the reply: "I received your message. We need to meet. Iâll find you soon."
âAunty, look! This person wants to see you. Isnât it romantic?â Lori said, her excitement palpable.
Romantic my ass, you thought, feeling a cold shiver as you read the email. You abruptly shut the laptop and started packing Loriâs things. Your sudden, frantic movements startled her.
âChange your clothes. Wear something practical and put on running shoes,â you instructed, your voice taut with urgency.
Loriâs eyes widened with concern. âWhy? Whatâs going on?â
âForget the books. We have fifteen minutes, Lori. Now!â You dashed to your room, grabbing essentials with swift, practiced motions.
Lori, bewildered but obedient, quickly followed your orders. Fifteen minutes later, both of you were ready and in the car. You sped away, your face set in grim determination.
In the passenger seat, Lori clutched the seatbelt tightly, her voice trembling. âAuntâŚâ
âLori, did you not hear me? Some things are better left in the past,â you said, your tone cold and firm.
She nodded slowly, her anxiety mounting. âBut why?â
Before she could ask more, a deafening explosion rocked the car. âBOOM!â The blast made Lori flinch as she turned to see your house engulfed in flames. Her face pressed against the car window, eyes wide with shock.
âOh my God. Is that your house?â Loriâs voice was barely a whisper.
You kept your gaze fixed on the road, your face pale and determined. âThis is the reality of espionage. The hardest part is when someone tries to kill you.â
Lori gasped, realization dawning on her. âYouâre a real spy!â
You didnât answer, but the silence was deafeningâa resounding confirmation.
âAnd the person who sent the email is another spy!â she exclaimed.
âYeah. But unlike the novels, weâre not looking to fall in love. Weâre trying to kill each other.â Your words sent a shiver down her spine, the gravity of the situation settling in with chilling clarity.
đĽđĽđĽđĽđĽ
At the gas station, you and Lori were picking up essential supplies. Your disguiseâa dark hat, sunglasses, and a coat pulled tightâwasn't exactly subtle. But Lori's eyes sparkled with excitement.
âThis is so cool!â she exclaimed, her voice brimming with admiration.
âItâs not,â you muttered, your voice strained as you tried to mask your growing unease. The thrill of the moment had been replaced by a harsh reality. âIâm taking you to your mom.â
Loriâs enthusiasm faltered as she noticed the tension in your body. âBut Aunt⌠why are you running away if this person wants to see you?â
You sighed heavily. âBecauseââ
Your words trailed off as a shiver ran down your spine. You felt eyes on you and slowly turned to face the source of your unease. There he was, striding towards you with a purpose.
The man stood tall and lean, his dark hair tousled and his leather jacket catching the dim light of the gas station. His face was strikingâhandsome in a rugged, intense way. His presence radiated strength and determination.
âBucky,â you whispered, your voice barely audible.
Bucky didnât break stride or acknowledge you. His pace quickened, and your instincts kicked in. You reached for your gun, but before you could draw it, a loud BANG! shattered the tense silence.
âKyaaa!!!â The sound of the gunshot set off a wave of screams from everyone inside the store, including Lori. The chaos erupted around you, but you and Bucky remained focused.
You threw yourself in front of Lori, protecting her with your body. Bucky did the same, his gaze locked on the threats.
âYouââ you started, trying to catch your breath.
âWe donât have much time,â Bucky cut you off, his voice a low growl. He grabbed your arm, pulling you up, and snatched his own gun. Without another word, he started firing, taking out the shooters one by one.
You joined him in the fray, your movements sharp and efficient. Bullets flew and bodies hit the floor. Buckyâs sharp eyes and quick reflexes contrasted with your precise, practiced shots.
âYour aimâs getting rusty,â Bucky grunted as he took down another opponent.
âShut up,â you retorted, focusing on the task at hand.
In no time, the immediate threat was neutralized. You both made a break for your car, adrenaline surging. Bucky took the driverâs seat, his expression grim and focused.
âWaitâŚâ you began, but Bucky cut you off.
âJust put on your seatbelt first,â he said tersely, glancing at you with an intensity that brooked no argument.
You complied, snapping the seatbelt into place as Bucky threw the car into gear. The ride was tense, an awkward silence hanging between you and Bucky. Lori, however, was brimming with curiosity.
She tugged at Buckyâs leather jacket, causing him to glance at her. The way she looked at him, her eyes wide with awe, reminded you of how she had always romanticized the world.
âAre you the one who sent that email to my aunt?â Lori asked, her voice tinged with a mix of excitement and expectation.
Buckyâs eyes widened slightly, but he didnât respond, turning his attention back to the road.
Lori turned to you, her eyes glowing with revelation. âI get it. Both of you were spies! But you couldnât be together because of your jobs! A forbidden love! This is so romantic!â
"!!!!!"
Your jaw dropped, and Buckyâs expression shifted to one of utter disbelief. The two of you exchanged a stunned look, unsure whether to laugh or feel embarrassed by Loriâs innocent but surprisingly accurate guess.
The air in the car seemed to crackle with the weight of her words, as the reality of your intertwined past and present hung in the balance.
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Author Note: Hey friends,
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Summary: Bucky has a nightmare about loosing you. So, when he wakes up to see your bedside epmty, the nightmare feels all to real.Â
Warnings: angst, a little fluff, sad and scared Bucky :((
You run into your room and try to lock the door with your shaking hands. You try to quiet down your breathing, but there is no point, because you know he can hear your pounding heartbeat.
Suddenly, a harsh rustle comes from the door and tears start falling down your face. You know thereâs no hope and step further back into your shared bedroom, just waiting for whatever happens next.
And you were right, there was no hope. The man with the face of your lover, but heart of a stranger broke down your door and stepped inside the room. He was looking at you with nothing but anger.
âPlease, Bucky! Come back to me!â You yelled trough the sobs escaping your lips. You sounded, looked and felt helpless - but the man stepping towards you didnât give a damn. Because to him, you were nothing.
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Summary: Being in love with Steve Rogers isnât easy with all the dates Natasha sets him up with. One day youâve had enough and ask her to set you up, something youâve never let her before â and a certain blonde isnât too pleased.
Warnings: Angst to fluff! Jealous! Steve and Jealous! Reader. Misunderstandings. Two blind idiots in love with each other. 4.3k words.
âOkay, Iâm off to bed,â You said through a yawn and got up from the chair youâd been sitting in for the past hours, drinking and chatting with Natasha and Wanda.
Natasha took a sip from her glass, before asking, âSee you in the morning for our run?â
âCount me in,â You nodded and walked towards the exit, your head facing Natasha, âGoodnight ladies.â The second you faced away, something tall crashed into you, making you trip on your own feet.
âWoah careful, doll!â A familiar voice said, as a hand grabbed you by your waist to steady you, âAre you okay, angel?â
âSteve! Oh- Thanks!â You felt a bit embarrassed as he was still holding onto you, his blue eyes looking down at you with what seemed like concern. His face was close, so very close, and his lips-
âSteve youâre back!â Natasha cheered from behind you, interrupting the moment, âHow was your date?â
You immediately felt your heart drop at her question. Steve had been on a date. Again. You took a step away from the super soldier, looking down as he shifted his attention to Natasha, âIt was good.â
You snuck out of the room in the blink of an eye, not wanting to hear about yet another one of Steves âgoodâ dates that never lead to a second one. Couldnât he just choose one of the girls and make it official? That way you had no reason to hold onto the hope that he just might, someday, reciprocate your feelings.
You didnât see the disappointment in Steveâs face when you suddenly disappeared out of sight.
You woke up in the morning with a burning headache. Partly because of the wine last night, but mostly because of Steve keeping you awake for hours. You always stayed to hear how his dates went, but it was always the same: âIt was good, but there wonât be a second one, Iâm afraid. Better luck next time Nat.â
Though what if it was different this time? What if he finally found the one? Your thoughts and feeling of regret were interrupted by a harsh knocking on your bedroom door.You knew it was Natasha and got out of bed. The floor felt extra cold this morning.
âIâll be down in five!â You yelled trough the door and went to get dressed for your run. After swallowing some painkillers for your headache, you left your room to meet the redhead, desperately in need to get some fresh air.
You and Natasha jogged from the Avengers compound and ended up in the nearest park. As you felt the morning sun warming your skin, you felt a little relief lift off your shoulders. You needed this.
The two of you sat down at a bench, kind of like creeps, observing the civilians enjoying their own morning.
A dolled-up lady was walking her dog, or more like, the dog was walking her. You shared a laugh with Natasha at the sight. Your eyes followed her movements, watching as she passed a little girl blowing soap-bubbles. The little one let her tongue out to taste the bubbles, only for her nose to scrunch up in disgust.
âCute.â Natasha commented from beside you. You smiled and let your eyes wander along with the bubbles flying away, which popped right next to an older couple holding hands. âAww, look at them!â You commented.
The husband of the old couple, smacked his ladyâs butt, growing a mischievous grin on his face. âNow, thatâs cute.â Natasha commented this time.
âI know! Old people are the cutest.â
âI can only partly agree with you there. Buck and Steve are quite the old men,â Natasha laughed, âWouldnât call them cute.â
You chuckled lightly as your eyes left the old couple. To you, Steve was so much more than cute. He was the kindest, most caring man youâd ever met. He always listened to your small and bigger problems. He was always willing to drop everything to help you out. He was always by your side whenever you got hurt on a mission. You had no doubt he cared for you, and yet⌠he still went on all those dates like you werenât even an option. He made you feel so special and loved, and you werenât even each otherâs. Oh, how lucky the one who wins his heart would be.
âY/N? Earth to--â
âOh, sorry!â You snapped out of your thoughts at Natasha trying to get your attention.
She gave you a concerned look as she spoke, âAre you okay? You seem down.â
âItâs just my head, it really hurts.â You excused, wiping away a tear you hadnât noticed before.
âIâm sorry. Should we walk back? We can take it slow.â Natasha asked and got up from the bench, lending you a hand.
You accepted her hand and cracked a small smile, âThank you kind lady.â
Once you started walking back towards the compound, a familiar figure caught your eye. Steve, with a girl beside him, was walking in your direction.
âWould you look at that! Steveâs on a second date,â Natasha cheered at the sight of Steve and Sharon Carter coming closer, âHe said yesterday they wouldnât go on a date again.â
Natasha was clearly trying to share her excitement with you, but all you felt was a knot tightening in your stomach. You liked Sharon, you really did, but of course she, a Carter, Â would be the one to finally win Steveâs heart.
Natasha was waving at the pair, just to make sure they saw the two of you. The jealousy in your body didnât help much with the headache, making you feel sick, âNat, Iâm just gonna go, okay?â
You werenât in the mood to stand around and wait for Steve to arrive with his new love interest, you didnât even bother to give Natasha a smile, âYou can wait for them if you want. Iâd like to have some alone time anyways.â
Natasha wasnât sure how to react, starting to feel like it wasnât just a headache bothering you, âYou sure?â
âYeah, Iâll see you later.â You left without taking another look back, leaving Natasha to start worry about you.
You didnât see Steveâs expression go from excitement to concern as he watched you leave Natasha behind.
Back at the compound, you fall down onto your bed, soft sobs rocking your body. Youâre tired of loving a man youâll never have. You have his friendship, but your heart is still not satisfied. Now that Steve has found a beautiful woman like Sharon, maybe you can finally try to move on.
You roll onto your back, looking at the ceiling as your tears dry out. What are you going to do?
Then, it hits you. Natasha.
Just a soft knock on the door and a hug later, the redhead asks what she can do to make you feel better. You let out a sigh and ask away, âCould you help me, maybe⌠find a date?â
Natasha wasnât sure she heard you correctly, but when you nodded, her face lit up in excitement, âOf course! It would be my absolute pleasure!â She didnât even ask why you wanted a date all of a sudden, she was just happy youâd finally give her matchmaking a chance. Â
âOh my god! I have so many guys in mind. They would all be so lucky to have you Y/N. I have to pick one worth your time though!â
You chuckled as you listened to Natasha ramble on about who to pick for you, a feeling of excitement growing in your stomach. You were finally ready to give someone new a chance.
As the moon shone through your window, you thought about what tomorrow would bring. Natasha had already picked out a date whom youâd meet tomorrow night.
Busy in thought, you suddenly felt your stomach growl. Slipping out of bed, you put on a pair of slippers and wandered out your door towards the kitchen. Truth be told, you had been avoiding going around the compound in fear of meeting Steve, which also meant skipping dinner.
You fixed yourself a bowl of cereal and let your thoughts wander back to your upcoming date. What dress would you wear? Maybe the blue one? No. What about the white, the one you knew Steve loved so much?
âHey.â
The sudden sound of a voice made you jump in your seat. As you choked on your cereal, you felt a hand patting your back.
âIâm sorry for scaring you. Are you okay, angel?â
You looked up to find Steve looking down at you. Damnit. You managed to embarrass  yourself in front of him again.
âIâm fine, thanks.â Your voice sounded hesitant, your eyes going back to your cereal. You listened as Steve made himself a cup of tea behind you, not a single word shared. You felt awkward.
You hoped he would just make his damn tea and leave - but of course not. The man sat down, right beside you, half facing you as he took a sip.
âSoâŚâ Steve began, and you felt yourself wanting to disappear. You were in the mindset of moving on a few minutes ago, but here he sat, the man you were so in love with, alone, giving you all of his attention. âHowâre you doing? We havenât talked much since, well, yesterday.â
Steveâs voice sounded hesitant, and you knew, that he knew, that something was up. The two of you hung out every single day, so not talking for 24 hours was unusual.
âI, uh⌠Iâm okay. Iâve been a bit tired lately, thatâs all.â You lied, and you didnât sound very convincing either.
âNat told me about your headache earlier today, at the park-â
âYeah, Iâm fine.â You interrupted him, a hint of annoyance in your voice. You really didnât want to talk about it. Especially not think about the sight of Steve walking alongside his new girl.
You hear Steve let out a sigh at your answer. You were hoping heâd let it go, though you knew Steve too well. The blonde put down his cup and turned his body fully towards you this time, âY/N,â His voice sounded serious, âI know somethingâs up, more than just a headache, and it worries me. So, please, what is going on? Did I do something?â
You didnât know you had it in you to be angry with Steve Rogers, but when you felt your blood boil, there was no going back. You jumped out of your chair and looked at him with rage in your eyes, âWhy do you care, huh?â
You saw the immediate hurt in Steveâs eyes, his expression shocked at your sudden outburst. You didnât care though, âItâs been a fucking day, and youâre worried about me because I havenât talked to you yet? You havenât even been home! The last time I saw you, quoting Natasha, you were on a second date with Sharon! Shouldnât you be with her now anyways?â
âY/N-â Â
âNo! Why the fuck do you sit here and talk to me like Iâm the only thing you care about, like it matters how Iâm doing? It doesnât make any sense! Youâve always been like this, yet Iâm just a friend sitting around while you go out and fuck all the girls Natasha find for you!â Your breath is heavy, tears threaten to spill from your eyes,
Steve was reaching out a hand to you but retracted it as tears streamed down your cheeks. You pointed a finger at the man, your teeth gritted together as you spoke, âAnd lastly, I am under no obligation to tell you anything about my feelings! So please, stop treating me like Iâm your fucking girlfriend!â
Without taking another look at him, you spun around and left the room. As you disappeared out of sight, you ran down the hallway to escape into your room, not wanting Steve to follow. It was when you shut your bedroom door, you realised what you just did.
You yelled at Steve, for the first time ever. Worst of all, he hadnât done anything to deserve it. That night, never ending sobs were rocking you to sleep.
As you stormed out of the kitchen, you didnât see the look of heartbreak in Steveâs eyes. They carried more worry than before, confusion and a load of regret as he started to catch on to what was going on with you. It was all a misunderstanding, and he felt like the biggest idiot in the world.
Getting ready for your date was supposed to be fun and exciting, but after you yelled at Steve last night, nothing seemed to cheer you up.
You regretted every single word you yelled at him. He came to check up on you, but all he got in return was your anger. Though maybe it was for the best, now he had no reason to care about you anymore. You were an asshole. The thought hurt like hell, but you chose to use it as an excuse to ease your feelings.
You dressed up in a white beautiful dress, paired with a pair of white heels. It was Steveâs favourite outfit of yours â he had told you so with words, but his eyes when he looked you, oh, they said so much more. That's were you got the nickname angel from.
It was time to give the outfit a new association, perhaps, the first outfit you wore out with your new potential love interest?
As you walked down the compound hallway to leave, familiar voices came from the kitchen. You knew snooping was wrong, but you couldnât help listening as it was Steve talking. Â
âIâve been a fool Buck,â Steve sighed, âWhat am I gonna do?â
âItâs all a big misunderstanding, right? Just tell her everything and Iâm sure sheâll understand. Y/N always understands.â
âYeah, tell her Iâve been going on a new date every week for the past year so that I can forget about her?â Steve groaned, âIt sounds awful.â
It did sound awful. He really wanted to get rid of you huh? You didnât understand why but his words hurt. â-so that I can forget about her.â
You sniffled and was ready to sneak past them, not wanting to hear anymore, but of course, both men noticed your presence. Stupid super hearing.
âY/N?â Steve asked and walked a little closer to where you were standing, âWow, angel, you look-â Steve gave you the same look as he always did when you dressed up. He looked at you in awe, which you usually loved, but now, you hated it.
âPrincess, you look beautiful!â Bucky commented and walked over to kiss the top of your head, âWhere are you headed off to?â
âOh, I-â You looked at Steve, then shifted your attention back to Bucky, giving him a shy smile, âIâm going on a date.â
The words felt relieving to get out in front of Steve. Now he would know not to treat you like a girlfriend, since you were trying to see someone else, right?
âOh, really?â Bucky sounded surprised, but you ignored it, âHave uh-â You noticed as Bucky gave a quick look at Steve, before plastering on a big smile, âHave a nice one then! Canât wait to hear about it!â
âThanks Buck,â You smiled, âI gotta go.â Â
As you rushed out of the room, you didnât see Steve clenching his jaw and fists. He was irritated at himself for letting it come to this. The feeling of jealusy made him feel sick.
It was an hour into the date, and you were actually enjoying your time. The guy Natasha had set you up with was an agent you had met before during some mission, Christopher. He was cute and had such golden retriever energy - he made you genuinely smile for the first time that day. Apparently he had been smitten with you for a while now, and to no surprise, Natasha knew.
As time passed by, it was time to head home. Both of you had work in the morning anyways. Cristopher followed you all the way back to the Avengers Compound, giving you a kiss on the cheek, âThank you for giving me a chance Y/N. I had a really wonderful time. Will I see you again?â
Busy with your date, you didnât see Steve standing nearby, observing the whole thing. He was tense, saddened and growing more and more jealous as he watched you laugh with the other guy.
Steve had come out to get some fresh air, to clear his head, but was interrupted by your arrival. You looked so beautiful, and the sound of your sweet laughter made his knees weak. Oh, how he wished he was the one who caused it.
The morning after your date with Cristopher, you felt the best you had in the last few days. You hummed as you entered the kitchen, the smell of something delicious hitting your nose, âOh, whatâs that smell? Itâs amazing.â
ââI made pancakes, so I hope youâre hungry!â Bucky cheered and handed you a plate. You accepted it gladly and sat down at the table next to Natasha and Wanda to your left, and Tony to your right.
âHey girl, you seem happy. Iâm guessing the date was a success?â Natasha asked as she took a bite of her breakfast.
âYou finally went on a date with Steve? Rhodes owe me money-â Tony started at the information.
You almost chocked on your first bite of the pancake. Why would he even think that? Didnât he know Steve was dating Sharon?
âNo, Tones, wrong,â Natasha corrected him, âShe went with that guy Cristopher. Remember that agent who wouldnât shut up about her?â
âOh yeah! The guy who was blabbering about Y/N almost as much as Steve does!â
Steve was blabbering on about you? Â Â Â
âAnyways, tell us how it went? Whenâs the next date?â Wanda asked, eager to know.
You chuckled a little nervously, âWell, you see--â You stopped talking as soon as Steve entered the kitchen, shocked to see his fallen shoulders and saddened eyes.
You observed as he grabbed a plate of pankakes, before heading over to the counter to make his morning tea. It was weird not hearing a good morning, or getting greeted with his soft smile. You had no idea what was bothering him, and it killed you inside.
"Y/N? You were saying?" Natasha questioned, as you had left them all hanging.
Your eyes didn't leave Steve's figure, even though he was facing away, "It uh... The date was good."
You watched Steve's whole posture tense as you spoke. Oh, how much you wanted to ask if he was okay. You just didn't feel like you had the right to. The last time you spoke, you were yelling at his face.
"Come on! Give us the details!" Tony pushed.
You shook your head, suddenly not wanting to bother Steve with details of your date. You plasteted on a forced smirk, "You'll have to wait and see if we weet again."
"No come on!"
As Steve was facing away, you couldn't see the tears forming in his eyes. You couln't see the absolute heartbreak on his face from the thought of having lost you. He really felt like he had lost the most important person in his life - and you didn't even know he saw you as such.
Over the past few days, you hadn't shared a single word with Steve, and it was starting to drive you crazy. You didnât even face each other while in the same room - it was a good thing you hadn't shared a mission yet.
All you wanted was for Steve to be happy, and to be his friend again, so with that, you decided it was time to apologize for your behaviour â even if he wouldnât forgive you for being such an ass, you knew it was the right thing to do.
Your palms felt sweaty, and your mouth all dried out as you stepped outside his room, âOkay⌠here goes nothing.â You knocked on the door, feeling your heart thump rapidly against your chest.
When he didnât answer you knocked twice, then again and again. Giving up, you asked Tonyâs A.I. for help, âFRIDAY, whereâs Steve?â
âIn the gym maâam.â
You let out a sigh, âIs he⌠okay?â
âFrom what I can tell, he seems distressed and angry.â
You felt a knot in your stomach. It was 8 pm, and Steve never worked out in the gym that late unless he was upset, âFuck⌠Thanks FRIDAY.â
Earlier that day, Steve had been walking past the door to your room at least five times, with the intention to make up. Though the super solider was way too nervous to bother you and chickened out. It was killing him not having your company every day. He missed you. So, with his emotions changing from heartbreak to anger, and the heavy regret from not telling you the truth and let your relationship come to this, he escaped to the gym.
You entered the gym and carefully closed the door behind you. It took you seconds to see Steve by the six destroyed punching bags on the floor, the seventh about to face the same faith.
Steveâs back was tense, and you could see the anger he was feeling in every punch. You felt the knot in your stomach from before tightening, your palms even more sweaty. Taking a deep breath, you walked up to him; it was time to face the music.
Speaking of music, before you knew it your ears were singing a high-pitched tone, your head hurt and your whole back was facing the cold floor beneath you.
âOh my god!â Steve rushed to your side, worry in his voice, âAre you okay? Iâm so sorry Angel!â
You blinked a few times before looking up at the concerned man above you. Putting a hand to your head, you groaned out due to the pain. Releasing deep breath, you let Steve help you up, âI guess I deserved that.â
You had been so smart to come up behind the Captain and stand in front of the punching bag. Because of Steveâs quick and hard punches, he failed to notice you in time, and punced the bag into you, sending you flying to the floor.
âSeriously, are you okay, doll?â
The concern in Steveâs voice made you forget why you came her in the first place. You only nodded and let him lead you to sit down on a bench. He didnât let go of your hand as you both sat down.
Steve let out a shaky breath. It was clear it had scared him when he saw you flying in the air, and it was all his fault too. You could see the guilt on his face. He still cared so damn much.
You had enough of Steve feeling so down because of you, he didnât deserve a second of it, âSteve Iâm okay. Iâm the idiot for creeping up on you like that⌠Also, I kinda deserved it after how shitty Iâve been treating you.â
âWhat are you talking about?â There was confusion in the Captainâs eyes.
âJust⌠let me talk.â Suddenly you had the courage to just get it out. You took hold of both his hands and looked deeply into his blue eyes, âIâm so sorry Steve. Iâve been an absolute asshole towards you.â
Steve opened his mouth to say something, but closed it as you shook your head, âLet me continue. Youâre my best friend and I have so much love for you. Youâve been nothing but good to me, and I was yelling at you for it. Thinking about how good you treat me, your friend, I can only imagine how good you treat Sharon. Sheâs very lucky and I wish you guys the best.â
Your gaze fell from Steve and down into your lap, âI⌠Iâve been jealous. With all those dates youâve been on⌠Why couldnât you just pick one the girls and get it over with? IâŚâ
âCause none of them were you.â
You looked up at him, shock in your eyes, unsure if you heard him correctly. Steve plastered on a small smile, his eyes so soft as he looked into yours, âY/N, thereâs nothing between Sharon and I. The other day, when you saw us at the park, we were walking back from visiting Peggyâs grave. It was only a coincidence we were there at the same time.â
âOh⌠but what about your date the day before? You said it was good?â You asked, feeling almost ashamed.
âYou left too soon to hear what I told Nat and Wanda. I had a good time, but I wasnât interested. Iâd have way more fun with someone else there with meâŚâ Steveâs voice was low, his hand coming up to caress your cheek, âI canât hold it back anymore Y/N. I love you; I always have. And those stupid dates?â
Tears were streaming down your cheeks at his confession. Never in a million years would you have thought he loved you back.
Steve chuckled lightly, a hint of sadness in his eyes, âI went on those to get you off my mind. I never belied you could love me back, youâre way too good for me, Angel. Though every damn date I went on, I just couldnât get you off my mind. Every time they wanted me to come home with them, I only thought; No, I canât do that to my best girl.â
âSteveâŚâ You felt so stupid for not having confessed your feelings earlier. All this misunderstanding couldâve been avoided, âI love you too. I love you so damn much Stevie.â
Steve breath caught in his throat, not sure he was hearing you clearly, âWhat?â The word came out weak, like he was scared to wake up from a dream, âWhat about--â
âCristopher?â You giggled, âOh, I had a nice time with him, but you know, he wasnât you.â
Steve laughed loudly and you joined in. Both of you realised how stupid and blind you had been. You loved each other.
Steve caressed your cheek again, his thumb stroking over your soft skin. The look in his eyes were different than before; you knew it was love. His features, his voice, all soft, âCan I⌠kiss you?â
You only nodded and let him lead you towards his lips. The kiss was gentle, but a firework erupted inside of you. It made tears fall from your eyes, his too. Pulling away, Steve kissed the top of your head before speaking, âMy beautiful, Angel. I canât believe I finally have you.â
You threw yourself forward and let him wrap his strong arms around you. His embrace felt like home.
It felt so right, and finally, your heart was satisfied.
You didnât see the tears continue to stream down Steveâs cheeks. You didnât see the huge weight being lifted off his shoulders. He was so damn in love with you, and he already knew that someday, he wanted to call you his wife. Â
THE END! Thank you so much for reading, feedback is very much appreciated <3
Summary: you have a date and Buckyâs not exactly happy about it.
Words: 3.8K
Trope: friends to lovers đ with a jealous Bucky trying his best to be brave, and failing horribly.
Notes: another fluff piece to mend Buckyâs heart â¤ď¸ honestly, I have a problem with all these fluffy fics Iâve been writing recently. I just cannot stop myself lol.
"You have a date?" he manages to splutter just before the panic takes over and makes his heart skip a few beats.
Fuck!
A fucking date?!
His fingers are slipping on the wet handle of the pan he's in the midst of cleaning, and in that moment, all he can think about is how happy he is that he's currently bent over the kitchen sink so you can't make out the shocked expression on his face.
You're nodding beside him, playing with the dishtowel you're holding but Bucky can hardly make out what you're saying when you return his question with a quiet "yeah".
His ears are ringing bells and he just wants to get the fuck out of there.
Silently, he's begging for you to stop talking. He doesn't want to know more. Doesn't want to hear what you've agreed to and who you're... - fuck, what if it's someone he knows?
What if it's Sam?!
Shit!
The panic in Bucky's chest runs amok! If he walks in on his two best friends fucking, he's gonna kill himself!
With dread, he realises that he has to know how careful he needs to be around the compound...
"With - uh - with whom?" he clears his throat and curls his toes in prepared mortification, his narrowed gaze firmly fixed on a wet piece of broccoli that's lying lonely and sad at the bottom of the sink.
Please don't say Sam, please don't say Sam...
"You know the cute guy from the coffee shop?" you answer proudly, and it makes Bucky's heart spring violently back to life. That guy??? "- he finally asked me."
Well, it's not Sam - yet somehow, it's worse.
Deep breath, he tells himself and plasters on a neutral expression as he looks up from the pan and directly into your eyes.
At least you look excited, he concludes as he takes in your dreamy little smile that's usually reserved for when vibranium fingers briefly brush over your warm skin but that he now has to share with... him. The moron in the green apron. Mr I'm-too-busy-flirting-with-your-girl-to-get-your-order-right.
Fuck, he's burning up!
"That's great, sweetheart," he hears himself croak from far away, trying his best to sound like he's happy for you and not as if his heart is in the process of being ripped out of his chest. "I'm real happy for you."
"Thanks, Buck," you playfully bump your hip against his while looking down at your hands as you once again twist the towel between your fingers.
You seem almost... nervous. This date must really be a big deal to you.
He gulps and pushes away another incoming wave of nausea. It's not as if he hasn't long ago accepted that nothing will ever happen between the two of you. You're friends. That's it.
"Are you excited?" He asks without really knowing why. He doesn't want to hear your answer. To hear you verbally confirm the look you already have on your face.
Slowly you look up at him and he has to chomp down on his inner cheek to keep himself from doing something stupid.
"You know what?" you ask quietly with a tilt of your head and Bucky's heart starts racing even harder. "- I actually am."
Even you sound surprised - not that Bucky can really blame you.
"Mmh," he merely hums and pretends there's a particularly stubborn area on the dirty pan that needs his attention.
"Is that weird?" You ask.
He can feel how the sincere question in your voice laces itself around his abdomen, squeezing him tight.
Is it wrong of him to want to snap the stupid piece of teflon-coated metal in his hand in half? You're his best friend and he should just be happy you're happy.
Fuck it, he is happy! He loves you more than anything and you deserve to feel this way - he just wishes it was because of him and not someone else.
"No, sweetheart," he mumbles, trying to untie the invisible knot behind his navel as he starts scrubbing again. "Why would it be weird?"
Thankfully, you don't answer.
...
Cold droplets of water are running over your forehead and down the length of your nose, desperately trying to reduce the tension that's been resting right between your eyebrows since your conversation with Bucky last night.
Splashing your face with water is a stupid attempt to make yourself feel better - you know that - it hasn't worked the other times you've tried it and this must be the tenth attempt since you woke up this morning. The only thing that'll truly help is if Bucky would tell you what's going on.
He's been acting weird since last night, and even though you aren't sure what reaction you'd been hoping for, this definitely isn't it. You know he isn't exactly the biggest fan of the man who's taking you out for dinner later, but getting so annoyed he can barely uphold a conversation? Well, that wasn't really a scenario you'd even considered at all...
You suppose you could just tell him the truth - maybe that would make him more accepting of your choice of date - but it's not as if you can really tell him that the only reason you're going on that date to begin with is to force yourself to get over, well, him.
You've known Bucky two years now and apart from small moments here and there, nothing's happened. It's been two excruciating years full of pining and painful almosts and ifs but he clearly doesn't look at you that way and you don't want to keep putting yourself through the heartbreak. You deserve to spend your friday nights with someone who actually sees you for what you are: beautiful, smart, desirable, a woman.
And as you stand looking at yourself in the mirror, you realise that you need this date to get Bucky out of your head. Fuck if he doesn't approve of the cute guy from the coffee shop. It's none of his business who you're going out with and if he wants to be annoyed about it, then so be it.
Yet you still cannot stand the thought of him sitting by himself all night. He hasn't seemed like himself all day and you know how he can spiral over the smallest of things.
Thus, you check for Sam in the kitchen, the gym, and in the spa area in the basement of the compound, but eventually find him in the common room on the third floor, completely hypnotised as he stares at the television screen in front of him, the playstation controller grabbed tightly in his hands.
You do a quick scan around the room to confirm that it's just the two of you before you approach him. "Wilson, have you seen Bucky today?"
"Bucky? Uh - no," Sam mumbles without moving his gaze away from the animated character who's running through an abandoned city. "I assume you've already tried the dark cave he calls his room?"
"I know where he is," you sigh and flop down on the sofa next to him, stretching your legs and putting your feet in his lap. "I was just hoping that maybe you'd talked to him."
He doesn't answer apart from a few incoherent noises you're sure are for the game and not for you, so you poke at the controller with your toes to get his attention. "Sam..."
"Hey! I'm trying to save humanity from a zombie apocalypse here. Keep your stinking feet away from me," he playfully flicks the underside of your foot without sparing you a glance. "I already told you I haven't seen your siamese twin all day."
"Yeah, but do you think you could... go check on him maybe?"
"I'm busy. You go check on him."
"Sam..."
At the sound of your soft-spoken words, Sam sends you a brief side-eye before he finally tosses the controller down on the sofa table with a loud sigh. "What'd you do?"
"I didn't do anything," you shake your head innocently. Is it really your fault that Bucky is too childish to accept the man you're going out with? No.
Sam runs his eyes over you and squints hard. "You guys are usually so dependent, you're practically joined at the hip. And now you want me to go talk to him even though you didn't do anything?"
"Look, he's being weird," you sigh, "- can you just check on him? Please? Maybe have a guy's night in with beer and that stupid zombie-game you're always playing or whatever?" you gesture to the television screen where the character from before stands panting, saying random stuff every few seconds. "I don't want him to be alone."
"First of all, The Last of Us is not stupid!" Sam raises his index finger at you, feigning an insulted huff. "Secondly; a guy's night in..? While you're doing exactly what if I may ask?" he arches an eyebrow, urging you to keep talking.
"I - uh - I have plans," you say quickly and try and look determined although you can feel your entire face heating up. "...a date of sorts."
The dead-panned look on Sam's face is quickly wiped off, instead replaced with an annoyingly broad smirk. "You have a what now?" he chuckles teasingly.
"You heard me," you roll your eyes.
"Oh I heard you loud and clear," he hoots, "you are going on a date!" he says, emphasising the last word with a wriggle of his eyebrows.
"Don't be a dick about it."
"My, oh my. We're finally gonna see what kind of man that can sweep the rug from underneath you."
"Okay, I'm leaving," you make a move to stand up, but Sam interrupts you by putting his palm to your shin.
"Come on, I'm just teasing," he laughs, "tell me about your date. Who's it with? - Not Bucky, I assume."
"Why would I go on a date with Buck?" you shrug nonchalantly although you can once again feel the heat radiating through your every feature. "It's the cute blonde from the coffee house down the street."
"Oooh, the guy who looks like a young Brad Pitt but with humour?"
"That's the one," you press down on your lips and avoid looking directly at Sam. God, this is embarrassing.
"He's a cutie!" Sam teases with a chuckle.
"I know," you play with a loose thread on your shirt, avoiding his eye.
"Then why aren't you more excited about it?" He asks but immediately emits a groan, "Jesus... do not tell me it's because of Bucky?!"
"I'm worried about him," you whine and bury your face in the sofa cushions.
Sam rolls his eyes. "You're going on your first date in forever and you're worried about that sourpuss?"
"Sam, you didn't see the look on his face when I told him about it! He hates the guy - I think it really upset him."
"Of course it upset him," Sam scoffs, "It's like taking candy away from someone who really wants to fuck said candy!"
Your eyes snap over to Sam in an instance. Completely taken off guard, your voice dies in your throat. Did he just...? No, surely, you must've misheard.
"Come on, don't pretend you haven't noticed," Sam groans, "I swear to god, he's two days away from crawling behind you just so he can lick the ground you're walking on!"
The earth has stopped spinning. "W-what?"
"The puppy eyes? The 'pick me' behaviour?" he rolls his eyes at your shocked face.
Your heart starts pounding so fast you can barely keep up. "Are we talking about... Bucky? As in our Bucky?"
"Uh, huh," Sam nods as if it's the most obvious thing on the planet. "That guy's practically begging you to take him by the hand and lead him to your bed. He's so in love with you, it's disgusting to look at."
"He's what?!" You exclaim loudly, completely out of breath. This is definitely news to you! "No, no, no! Bucky's not in love with me, we're friends," you pant with the blood rushing past your ears.
Sam shoots you an unimpressed side-eye, "yeah keep telling yourself that"
"What do you mean?" you pant, trying to puzzle together Sam's suspicion with your disbelief.
"I swear to god, the two of you don't even have a single brain cell put together..." he rolls his eyes, "I've seen that boy almost snap his neck because you were laughing and he wanted to know what you were laughing at. Trust me when I say that he's not annoyed that you're going on that date - he's jealous."
Well... fuck!
...
You don't think you've ever been this nervous as you pace the hallway outside Bucky's bedroom. You've been here ten minutes now, desperately trying to force yourself to actually make contact with him, but you're holding yourself back. There's so much on the line and what if Sam's incorrect? Then, you will truly have mucked up and everything between you and Bucky will be ruined.
Shit!
You stop pacing. You can hear his favourite album from the forties playing on the other side of the wall but apart from that, there hasn't been a single sound from in there.
You pray he's in a better mood than when you walked in on him angrily hunched over his bowl of cereal this morning, but the fact that he put on the only type of music that can calm him down, doesn't really scream 'put-together'.
It makes you even more nervous though you know you have to talk to him at some point. It's not as if you can avoid him forever - so before you can truly think about the upside of postponing the inevitable conversation, you raise your knuckles and carefully knock on his door.
Everything inside you tenses up. You vision becomes blurry, and you seem to automatically focus all your attention on the sounds coming from inside his room. There's a short shuffle, a sigh and then an irritated "what?!" muttered from somewhere behind the walls.
This is bound to go wrong.
You consider running away and pretend you've never even been near his room, but it's too late to back out now. You have to talk to him at some point, you remind yourself.
With your nerves running wild and the blood pumping through your every vein, artery, and fibre, you open the door a little and poke your head inside his room with a small "hi," your throat so dry it comes out as a hoarse whisper.
He's sitting on the bed with his long legs crossed at the ankles, his hand buried inside a book that's lying closed in his lap. He looks angry at everything and everyone - as if he's minutes away from strangling someone - but when he finds your eyes from across the room, the tense muscles in his cheeks seem to unclench a little.
"Oh, hey," he breathes and runs a hand through his hair in embarrassment, licking his lips. "I thought you were Sam..."
You smile, so relieved to see him softening that you automatically step inside his room without waiting for him to ask you to. "Sorry to disappoint."
"You're not," he shakes his head with a small gulp, "I thought you'd left already. Don't you have that big date?" he asks in a weird voice and sends you a stiff smile.
"Not until seven," you shrug and sit down next to him on his bed, immediately noticing how he's started avoiding your gaze.
"Right," he nods and occupies himself by putting his book on his bedside table. "So - uh - still looking forward to it?"
How do you tell your best friend that no, you're not looking forward to it because he's the one you really want to go out with?
"I don't know," you shrug, suddenly so anxious your temples have started pounding, "not really."
He finally looks up at you again, his slate blue eyes jittery as they meticulously search your face. "What happened?" He asks with tightly knitted eyebrows, "you were so excited for it yesterday."
You hesitate. "...Honestly?"
"Yeah, honestly," he sits up a little straighter, a serious look on his face, "- he didn't upset you, did he?" He says on impulse, his voice suddenly dark and dripping with venom at the mere thought as he reaches out for you and puts his fingers on your arm.
"No Buck," you shake your head and take a deep breath to get your pulse under control. "He didn't upset me."
"Then what?" He squeezes your arm softly, his eyes concerned as he tries to read you, "you can tell me anything."
"I know... It's just that..." you hesitate and consider ending your sentence with I'm in love with you, but the words die in your throat.
"What sweetheart?" he shuffles a little closer to you.
"Bucky," you heave a big breath of air to prepare your bold question that can potentially change everything between you dependant on his answer. "Do you not want me to go on that date?"
"What?" his eyes immediate travel over your face and you can almost hear his pulse running haywire as his fingers let go of your arm. "What makes you think that?"
"It's just..." your breathing picks up as you scan his every anxious feature. It makes you anxious too. "- you started acting weird the minute I told you about it. You've been avoiding me all day."
His fingers find your arm again, his grip a little tighter than before as he desperately looks at you. "No, no, no, sweetheart! That's not what happened," he licks his lips and plasters on the fake smile he's been practising in the mirror all day. "- I mean... I'm not the biggest fan of the guy but who you're dating is really none of my concern. I'm sure he's great, and as long as he treats you well, I'll make sure he stays on my good side," he says softy and sends you a smile that seems a little too genuine for your liking.
You hesitate again as you check his face for cracks, but his smile stays intact and happy. "...So you're really okay with it?" you ask in a small voice, mortified.
"Are you kidding me? Sweetheart, of course I'm okay with it!" he slides his fingers down your arm, capturing your hand inside his fist. "I really just want you to be happy. That's what's important. And you deserve to be taken care of for once instead of being stuck here with me and Sam." He reassuringly squeezes your fingers tight, but it just feels as if he's in the process of letting you go.
Slowly, you can feel your heart breaking.
You knew it... You knew Sam was wrong. Bucky isn't in love with you. Never has been. Never will be. Things are exactly the way they've always been and you're left pining after a man who doesn't want you back.
God, you feel like a idiot for getting your hopes up like that.
"Good," you nod resolutely, fighting hard to not let the heartbreak slip through your well-feigned mask. "I'm happy to hear you feel that way."
"Of course I do," he smiles solemnly.
"I should probably go get ready then..."
"Yeah," Bucky nods and lets go of you. "It's almost six."
With a sigh you hope he doesn't hear, you stand up from his bed and brush down the front of your jeans, not really sure you even want to leave his room.
He's looking up at you like a deer caught in headlights. "Have fun," he says while his hands grab the sheets underneath him, fisting the fabric. "- can't wait to hear all about it."
"Thanks, Buck," you feign a smile to match his, "I'll see you tomorrow."
"See you, sweetheart..."
You turn around with a wave of your hand, but the smile on your face falters the minute you've turned on your heel.
You can hear his heavy breathing over the music playing in the corner, and when you reach out for the door handle, a delicate sound finally breaks the reticence between you.
"Don't go..."
At first, you're not sure if you're imagining it, but then you hear him shuffling behind you, and when you turn around and face him, he's on his feet. "Don't go on that date," he whimpers in defeat, "I'm begging you. Please... don't go."
"Bucky..."
"I'm in love with you," he says guiltily with a gulp.
Your heart stops.
"- and I can't pretend I'm okay with you going on dates when I'm not."
You're completely speechless. You want to comment on everything. Run to him and proclaim that you're his. That you've always been his. But you're nailed to the spot and all that manages to escape your lips is a tight whimper.
"- I know it's probably not what you want to hear right now..." he closes his eyes and looks as if he's in pain. "And I know I'm risking everything by telling you this," he gulps, "but I've been keeping it in for so fucking long, trying to protect our friendship. I just can't keep pretending I don't want... more. It's stupid, I know."
"Bucky, it's not stupid," you finally manage to croak and it's as if the force that've been gluing you to the spot finally lets go. "It's not," you whisper as you take a few long strides over to him, stopping right before your chests touch. "It's not stupid," you repeat and reach a hand upwards, caressing his bearded chin.
His eyes are glistening, and his breathing is coming in ragged as he searches your face. "Sweetheart," he gulps in confusion, "I don't... - what does this mean?"
"It means -" your hand reaches up so it can rake through his hair, coming to a halt on the back of his neck where you can feel the goosebumps travel through his entire body. "- that I'm in love with you too. Have been for quite some time. Since I met you, actually."
Now it's his turn to be glued to the spot.
His mouth falls a little open and you can tell by the look on his face that he's in the process of questioning everything, so you underline your confession by putting your forehead to his. "I want to be yours," you whisper and observe him closely.
At first, he tenses even harder, but then a small smile starts tugging on his lips as he finally relaxes in your arms and pulls you closer. "I want you to be mine, too," he declares sweetly as his heart blossoms in his chest. He reaches down and kisses your cheeks, your nose, your forehead.
"It's you," he whispers against your skin, "- It's always been you."
"Kiss me," you beam and almost cannot stop smiling silly when you reach up for his mouth, finally claiming the softest, most pillowy lips you've ever had the pleasure of kissing.
Summary:Â After a mission gone awry, Bucky finds himself on your doorstep in the middle of the night.
Words:Â 5.3K
Fluff, fluff and fluff and a lil bit of angst. Classic hurt/comfort and friends to lovers
Through the darkness, there's a knock on your bedroom door, so soft, so cautious, that if you hadn't already been half-awake, you're not sure you would've caught it.
Legs quickly swung over the side of your mattress, you stop and focus at a fixpoint in your moonlit room.
According to the big mission schedule hung in Steve's office, you should be the only one at the compound, so you cannot for the life in you figure out who would rap on your door at 3.30 in the morning, but it wasn't just something you'd imagined because there it is again. A knock, not much louder than before, but definitely there.
For a brief second, your foggy brain ponders that it's likely someone who's been sent to kill you in the dead of night, but before you've even reached for your bedside Beretta, rationality reminds you that they probably wouldn't have had the curtesy to knock first - and then it dawns on you.
"Nat," you sigh with a roll of your eyes and let your bare feet hit the floor while you rub the sleep from off your face. It's not the first time she's forgotten the lock combination to her room after post-mission drinks.
Slowly, you walk across the cold floorboards and over to the wooden door where you can hear ragged breathing from the other side of the wall. Hand lazily pulling the door open, you start talking before you've seen who's on the other side.
"It's only four digits and you're panic breathing?" you chuckle but is immediately taken aback when you're not met by Natasha but instead by your best friend. "...Buck?"
He's back from his mission a day earlier than you'd expected and you're just about to crack a witty comment on how you'd told him that Sam couldn't stand to be alone with him for more than thirty-six hours, but then you notice the state he's in.
His entire body is slumped over as he clutches his right arm tight to his chest, eyes droopy and blank, cheekbones dotted by freckles of soot and framed by thick strands of auburn hair caked in dried blood. "Doll," he breathes painfully and takes a step closer, looking only mildly relieved to see you.
"Buck!" you hiss in fear and grab both his cheeks, but his dirty face just drops further, and he can't even look at you though you're standing mere inches apart.
"I know it's late," he mumbles with his gaze downcast, "but can I come in?"
It's as if you don't hear him clearly enough to respond. His voice is under water and at the same time layers above you while you're far too concerned with every look of horror splashed across his handsome face, your hands frantically clutching his bloodied cheeks as you desperately search his eyes though he still won't look at you. "What happened? Where's all this blood coming from?"
"It's - it's not mine..." he croaks with a small shake of his head.
Fear ripples through your entire body one more time and you can barely speak as you imagine the worst possible scenario that might have caused Bucky to behave like this. "Is it... Sam?" you whimper with tears already burning in your eyes, fighting the urge to throw up.
"He's fine," Bucky quickly interrupts with a small nod, "I dropped him off at his girl's place twenty minutes ago," he croaks and finally looks up at you, his eyes more broken than you've ever seen them before. It makes your heart crack in two. "Sweetheart, can I please come in?"
"Oh god," you pant anxiously and reluctantly let your fingers slide off his cheeks as you step to the side and finally let him inside your bedroom. "Yes, yes of course you can come in."
Immediately, he's on your bed, his face buried in his vibranium hand as the pads of his fingers start rubbing circles over his dusty forehead.
"What happened?" you barely manage to croak as you sit down beside him and carefully place a hand on his rigid thigh. "Last time I heard from you, everything was going according to plan."
"I don't want to talk about it," he gulps and starts rubbing his face even more agitatedly, looking over at you with an apologetic look on his face. "- not right now... I just had to see you. I'm sorry I woke you up."
You grab his vibranium hand and bring it down to his lap to get him to stop his frantic movements and he immediately squeezes you tight, letting out another heart-breaking sob.
"It's okay, Buck. I'm glad you're here."
Over the last year, you've seen Bucky on his darkest days a handful of times, and he usually has the same look on his face, but this time, it's different. It's deeper. Despondent and morose, the anger that's usually posessing him om the bleaker days replaced by a different kind of sadness.
Something really bad must've happened...
"Do you wanna sleep in here tonight?" you ask, unsure how to tackle this the best way possible if you don't want him to shield himself off in his room the way he usually does when he's not feeling his best. He shouldn't be alone under any circumstances.
You're half expecting him to protest, but to your surprise he starts nodding, relieved. "Thank you," he whispers and squeezes your hand tight again.
You make an attempt at a comforting touch as you brush over the soot on his cheeks, making a strand of dirty hair dipped in dried blood fall from his forehead. "You want a shower? I can draw you a bath."
He nods again.
"Come on, love," you say quietly and watch as he gulps hard at the sound of the tender pet-name that you've been wanting to call him for months now but haven't had the guts to say out loud until it accidentally slips past your lips. Surprisingly, you're not even embarrassed by yourself. You suppose there are more important things to worry about than an accidental profession of love in a moment of gentle affection.
Bucky seems taken aback too, frozen, and full of wonder, but he shakes it off and lets you pull him to your small bathroom, accepting your fluffiest towel without a word as he continues staring at you.
"I'll be just outside, okay?" you say reassuringly as you turn on the water in your bathtub, making sure it's the right temperature before putting in the drain stopper.
He's still looking at you with huge eyes, flesh arm clutched to his chest while the fluffy white towel gently supports his elbow. You silently wonder if he's hurt but before you can ask him, he speaks.
"Can you... stay?" He asks quietly, biting his inner cheek, unsure if his request is too much.
Still, it's your turn to be taken aback. You and Bucky are close but not like that.Â
"Stay?" you instinctively furrow your eyebrows, "while you shower?
He immediately clenches his jaw shut and shakes his head while small patches of pink appear on his cheeks underneath all the dirt. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked."
"No, no it's okay," you quickly stand up from your position by the tub spout so you're once again levelled. "- I was just surprised, that's all," you want to smack yourself for making him doubt himself. "Of course I'll stay."
Ice blue irises slowly find yours while the rose tint of his lower lip is being pulled between his teeth. "Are you sure?" he hesitates while sucking in some air, "I don't want to make you uncomfortable..."
"You're not," you touch your hand to his sternum to underline your words and watches as the crease between his eyebrows slowly reduces as he gradually relaxes under your touch. You can't help but think that even through all the dust and the grime, he looks incredibly beautiful.
"Let me give you some privacy," you unwillingly let go of him and turn away so he can undress in peace.
From behind you, you can hear the ruffle of his tac pants being pushed down his legs before the belt buckle clangs loudly against the tiles of the floor. It's followed by a series of loud painful grunts and hisses a few seconds later.
"Are you okay?" you ask and turn your head to the side, careful not to look directly at him as to not break the trust he put in you when he asked you to stay. "Buck?"
"Yeah, sweetheart," he sighs in embarrassment behind you, "it's just... do you think you could... help me?"
You turn around slowly to find him standing in the middle of the bathroom still wearing his torn t-shirt and Kevlar vest, bare-legged in boxer shorts and black socks pulled high up on his calf while his pants are lying crumbled on the floor beside him. He's awkwardly shifting the weight between his two feet, still clutching his right arm tightly. "It's my elbow."
Immediately, you furrow your eyebrows and walk over to him, taking his right hand in yours. "Yeah, I meant to ask you earlier. What happened?"
He doesn't answer but just silently lets you examine the swelling and black-purple skin that's half-hidden underneath dust and blood.
"Shit," you breathe and hear him give out a sharp hiss when you turn his arm over so you can examine the other side, "Buck, I think your elbow's torn."
"Me too," he gulps, "- I heard it snap."
At the mere thought of the sound, a wave of nausea hits you square in the chest and your stomach starts to churn. You can feel the tang of acid push up on your tongue when you imagine the pain he must've been enduring - still is enduring - but you fight it relentlessly and eventually manage to swallow down the bile. You should be taking care of him, not the other way around.
"We should go down to the infirmary," you say and keep your gaze firmly placed on the purple bruising, so he doesn't notice your discomfort. "I know it probably won't take too long to heal with the serum and all but just to make su-"
"Sweetheart," he gulps from above you and it makes you stop mid-sentence. "Not tonight, okay? I just wanna stay here tonight."
You look up at him, about to protest, but the words quickly die in your throat when you notice the look he's wearing. He's begging. Anxious. Heavy-hearted.
"Okay," you reluctantly agree and carefully let go of his arm while he sends you a grateful look. "Come on, let me help you out of this," you say quietly in defeat and unstrap his vest beneath his ribs, pulling the Kevlar plates over his head while he groans loudly.
"Ah!" he hisses and clutches his elbow tight, squeezing his eyes shut when you try and pull his t-shirt over his head. "Fuck!"
"You good?"
"Mm-hmm" he hums displeased with lips pressed so tightly together they're forming a thin, white line. "Just get it over with."
You pull on the hem again so the dark fabric rides up his stomach, revealing scarred skin pulled tight over the bulging muscles you've spent so many warm summer days discreetly staring at. "Can you reach your arms just a little higher?" you ask and watch how his diaphragm heaves in small electric shocks when he cannot control the loud gasps that escape his throat.
"Fuck me!" He hisses and squeezes his eyes so tightly shut that his entire face pales. "Just rip the damn fabric off," he hisses angrily, "I can't extend my fucking arm."
"Are you sure you don't wanna get it checked out in the med wing?" You let go of his t-shirt and look him deep in the eye, hoping your concerned gaze can convince him that it'll be worth the trip just to get your jumping nerves under control.
"Just... get me out of this thing," he sighs in defeat. "Cut it open, I don't care."
Disinclined, you dive down in the drawer underneath your sink, pulling out a small flat-legged scissor that came with a roll of gauze you bought last year when you had a nasty wound that wouldn't stop bleeding. "Are you sure?" You look up at him as you put the blade underneath the hem of his t-shirt.
Through the fingers you have placed over his chest, you can feel how his pulse quickly falls again when your eyes meet.
"S'just a t-shirt," he mumbles quietly while nodding, "I'm sure..."
Though you want to stay in this position forever, you slowly look away from him and down at your hands as your hesitantly start cutting, careful not to pierce Bucky's flesh with the sharp scissors.
The blade runs through the fabric like a hot knife through butter and you can feel every tense muscle that the edge of the scissors encounters as they travel over his warm stomach and chest. It makes the blood roar in your ears as more and more skin is revealed underneath your fingertips.
Concentrated on not hurting him even more, you keep your gaze firmly placed on his heavily panting chest as you cut open the front of his black shirt and carefully peel the fabric off his bruised arm until he's standing in front of you in nothing but black boxers and socks, his left hand carefully reaching out for yours as if to comfort both of you.
You've seen him bare chested several times before, but it's never been in this close proximity, never been this intimate, just the two of you holding hands and looking each other deep in the eye as you silently try to assure the other that everything is going to be okay.
"So..." you clear your throat, embarrassed by the fact that you have to hold yourself back from leaning forwards, planting a small kiss on his dusty cheek. "- I take it you can shimmy your way out of those on your own, right?" You nod down towards his boxers and he blinks as if he's just woken up from a trance.
"Yeah," he nods and lets go of your hand while the pink patches make a reappearance on his face.
Slowly, you turn around facing the running spout in the tub to the soft sound of cotton hitting the floor behind you. Involuntarily, you give out a gulp and flusteredly grab the box of bath salts just to give your shaking hands something to do. You cannot believe that your extremely fuckable best friend is standing naked in your bathroom no more than two feet away, begging you to stay close to him.
Eyes still firmly placed on the water in the tub, you point over your shoulder to the rainfall shower in the opposite corner of the bathroom. "You wanna rinse off first?"
"I better," Bucky hesitates behind you. "Don't you think?"
"It'll be a much nicer bath if you do," you awkwardly clear your throat.
"Yeah, you're right," he sighs and turns on the shower, immediately stepping inside and closing the glass door behind him so you can finally breathe freely again.
Through the mirror above the sink, you can make out his naked silhouette behind the matte glass and how the tension in his shoulders first tenfolds and then completely disappears the minute the water turns warm and he relaxes. He lets his forehead fall forwards so it's pressed up against the cold tiles while the water runs over his defined shoulders and down his sculpted back, and you literally have to force your eyes away from him and the shape of his handsome torso.
With your gaze fixed firmly on the fuzzy bathmat at the foot of the shower, you hear the sound of your bath gel being opened, followed by a series of painful grunts as Bucky desperately tries to lather himself with the soap.
"Fuck," he mumbles quietly and before you've even voiced a single word of concern, he continues. "Sweetheart, I know it's a lot to ask..." he says a little louder, the embararssement still evident in his voice, "- but I'm gonna need a little help in here... it's - it's this damn elbow," he sighs, "I'm useless. Can you...?" his voice trails off and the question hangs thickly in the air between you.
He wants you to join him.
To wash him.
Take care of him.
The thought alone makes you nervous, you have to admit, but he needs your help and you're willing to do anything for him.
"Give me a minute," you gulp and strip down to your panties, pulling on the bra you wore earlier so you're not completely bare in there. Several times, you've dreamt of you and Bucky naked together, but not like this - never like this - and you'll be damned if the first time he sees you without a shred of clothes is because he needs help and not because he needs you.
With your pyjamas neatly folded on top of the toilet seat cover, you take a final look at yourself in the mirror, brushing your hair out of your eyes before nervously reaching for the shower door with shaking hands.
He's still standing with his chiselled back towards you, letting the water rinse over his dirty hair and down between his shoulder blades with a slightly pinkish hue. "I'm so sorry about this," he mumbles uncomfortably and hands you your loofah behind his back. "I'll make it up to you, I promise."
"Come on, Buck," you say as you dribble a little soap on the sponge, fighting the urge to let your gaze run all the way down to his thick thighs. "Don't beat yourself up, you know I'm always here for you."
"Still," he mumbles and goes silent as the loofah gently runs over his tense shoulders and traces down his spine.
The white soap bubbles work magic on his dirty skin and you make sure not to leave out a single square inch of his scarred backside as you wash him while fighting the urge to wrap your arms around his torso, telling him how glad you are that he not alone came home, but also that he came to you seeking help instead of barricading himself in his room. It seems significant that he's here, as if something's changed between you though you cannot put your finger on it.
Completely lost in thought, you accidentally run the loofah a little too vigorously over his right tricep, sending shockwaves down his broken bone and resulting in a painful hiss falling from his open mouth.
"Sorry," you mumble, and scrub down his lower back, this time more careful with your movements though there aren't any dirty or bloody spots left on either side of his spine. "There we go" you conclude quietly when you realise that the rinsing water has finally lost its pink and grimy hue. "Turn around," you ask and hope he cannot hear the nervousness straining your voice. No matter what, you're not looking down.
Bucky seems just as jittery about his compromising position as you do, and he slowly spins around, revealing pink cheeks and heaving pecs, his gaze glued to the ceiling as he looks as if he's ready to fling himself off the nearest cliff. "God, sweetheart," he mumbles and breathes hard, "I'm so sorry for all this."
"Bucky, come on - what'd I tell you?" you touch the loofah to his chest, careful not to look anywhere than at the sponge itself as it traces over his collar bones and down his handsome stomach.
He merely sighs and stands completely still while you rinse the crevices between the metal plates over his left clavicle, careful not to move his torso so much he hisses in pain again.
"...You're a good friend," he mumbles after a few focused minutes where you've carefully been scrubbing the gold-plated lines in the vibranium, "- I ever tell you that?"
"All the time," you smile genuinely for the first time since he knocked on your door earlier that evening. If there's one thing you can count on, it's that Bucky Barnes appreciates you more than anything.
"I mean it," he says, "never doubt that."
You look up into his eyes.
He looks so soft and innocent as he stands before you, face finally clean, wet hair sticking to his forehead while he professes his love for you. Even if it's just platonic, it makes your heart skip a beat.
"I know, Buck."
"Good," he nods and blinks a few times with heavy, wet lashes framing his cerulean eyes. The air between you is thicker than ever and for a brief moment, it looks as if he's about to lean in and kiss you, but you break the tension by looking away. You don't want to take advantage of his vulnerable state no matter how badly you want that kiss.
"You ready for the tub?" You ask him in a weirdly shaky voice.
He nods while an almost inaudible sigh escapes his lips. "Yeah," he says and turns off the water, quickly exiting the shower before you can take notice of the disappointment burning on his skin.
You dry your feet on the small fuzzy mat, carefully watching Bucky's naked backside as he tests the temperature in the tub by dipping his toe in the water before stepping over the porcelain edge, sitting himself down.
Immediately, he gives out a content sigh, and drapes right arm over his chest, supporting his broken elbow with vibranium fingers, and you finally deem the situation safe enough to approach him again.
"Want me to wash your hair?"
"Mmh" he hums with closed eyes, immediately more relaxed now that he's covered by water. "I don't deserve you."
You grab your shampoo bottle and push out a decent amount of liquid, pressing it to his warm scalp to the sound of an alleviated sigh falling from his lips as you carefully start massaging it into his roots.
"Does that feel good?" you ask through a smile.
"Yeah, sweetheart," he groans quietly, making the butterflies in your stomach flutter awake, "- feels amazing."
You're slowly lathering shampoo into his long hair, enjoying the feel of him underneath your fingertips, how his soft hair slips through your hands while also trying not to think too much about the kiss you robbed yourself of in the shower. You can hear how his breathing slowly steadies and you think that maybe he's in the early stages of sleep but then he unexpectedly heaves a deep breath -
"You know... I haven't been scared of death for a long time," he says so sudden, so seriously that you're immediately brought out of your trance as your every muscle freezes at his austere tone of voice. "I used to not care if I lived or died but... tonight didn't go as planned," he swallows thickly and you can see how his jaw tenses up as his voice becomes husky, "- they... had me."
"What?" you pant with mortification, your every skeletal muscle paralysed as your breathing picks up. You don't have to ask him who he's talking about.
"Sam and I, we were so sure of ourselves," he shakes his head with his gaze fixed on the wall straight ahead. "We thought had the perfect plan... I - I'm such an idiot, nothing ever runs smoothly with Hydra."
You can feel your heart thumping in your throat. "What happened?" You whisper.
"Sam was on the look-out while I got the hard drive," he mumbles, "it was so easy. It didn't even take me five minutes before I was heading back towards the safehouse," he gulps, "- of course it was an ambush. I should have realised the minute I set foot inside that building."
"You couldn't have known," you whimper softly and stroke his scalp, but he doesn't listen.
"- I thought I was..." the words drown in a heavy sigh, and he stares blankly into space while blinking the tears away.
"Buck," you whisper and can feel the pain radiating from every fibre of his entire being when you wrap your arms around his wet torso and hold him close to your chest.
"They took me to a room. Strapped me down," he takes a ragged breath, and you hold on to him even tighter, "I was sure that was it. I never thought I'd find myself home again."
"You're home now," you whisper and softly kiss his shoulder, hoping that he doesn't feel the tear that lands on top of his clavicle. "You're home now with me."
"I know, sweetheart," he leans into your hug with a sigh, "trust me, I know."
"Everything's gonna be alright, love," you whisper against him and stroke your hand over his hair, "it's you and me against the world, always."
"You and me," he quietly confirms and leans back into your chest with a deep breath.
You continue stroking him over the hair, hold on to him for dear life, not willing to let go as you feel him relax more and more in your arms until he starts snoring slightly, finally warm and safe in your embrace.
"Buck, come on," you instinctively kiss him right below his ear, "you're sleeping. Let's get you into bed."
"Sorry," he mumbles groggily and lets his head fall back against your shoulder. "m'just so fucking tired. Been up thirty-six hours..."
"We'll talk tomorrow," you kiss him again and unwillingly unwrap yourself from around his chest, standing up straight beside him. "I'm not going anywhere. Promise."
He's looking up at you with puppy eyes, gaze slowly travelling down your body and up again as if he hadn't realised you were in your lingerie until that exact moment. "You look beautiful," he says quietly and you half-expect him to laugh it off, but his face stays serious.
"...Thanks," you croak while handing him the fluffy towel, not sure how to react to his sweet words. He's called you many things, but he's never downright called you beautiful before.
"I can take it from here, sweetheart," he nods slowly and steals one last glance down at your body, "you just go to bed. I'll be in in a minute."
"Okay," you whisper and peel yourself away from the tension between you by swiftly turning around, exiting the bathroom.
Back in your room, you barely have time to get out of your wet underwear and put on a fresh set of pyjamas, before a boxer-clad Bucky joins you on the bed.
"Are you still okay with me staying the night?" He asks, nervously.
"Of course I am," you answer immediately and find his vibranium hand underneath the covers, lacing your fingers between his as you scan his weary features. "See if you can get some sleep, okay? You need it," you brush a strand of wet hair away from his face and make sure he's fine by gently cupping his cheek before closing your eyes, hoping he's following your lead, doing the same.
The dark room goes completely quiet for a few minutes where the only audible sound is of your synchronised breathing.
You can feel yourself grow impossibly tired too as you lie there hand in hand with Bucky, and you're just about to succumb to sleep, when suddenly, his quiet whisper breaks the silence.
"I thought about you," he says softly, and it makes you open your eyes again.
You're staring straight into his handsome face, his beautiful blue eyes scanning over your features as he slowly clarifies.
"When they had me strapped down, I thought about you," he moves his fingers against the palm of your hand and completely engulfs you. "The thought of not seeing you again was..." the words die in his throat, and he looks as if he's seconds away from whimpering. "- Sweetheart, you make me so afraid of dying."
You breathe hard with quivering lips, huge eyes matching his as you let his confession sink in.
"I was so desperate to come home, I snapped the restraints in half. Snapped my own elbow along with them," he winces slightly at the painful memory that once again makes your stomach churn. "Sweetheart, I fought like hell. I don't think I've ever been so angry... I - I killed everyone I could get my hands on, I just had to see you again," he brings your hand to his soft lips and kisses the delicate pulse point of your wrist.
"Buck..." a slow whine escapes your throat as you try to blink away a stubborn tear that slowly starts rolling down the side of your nose.
"I love you," he whispers so softly against your thin skin that you almost don't hear. His eyes are closed and he looks relieved to be lying here with you, so you carefully pull his hand to your chest, placing his vibranium palm above your heavily beating heart.
"I love you too."
"Sweetheart," he whispers above you and moves his hand a little on top of your soft pyjamas while lightly shaking his head with a sigh. "No, you don't understand..." he gulps and searches your face, "I love you."
Your breath hitches in your throat.
"- I want more than this," he slowly admits. "I want to be more than your friend. I'm in love with you."
You squeeze his hand and move a little closer to him, scared that he'll stop confessing his love if you say something to throw him off track.
He holds on to you and can feel how your pulse starts racing underneath your pyjamas. "I hope I'm not scaring you off."
"No, no you're not," you say in a hoarse voice, "not at all. I - I think about you all the time."
"You do?" He breathes hard, clearly not believing what he's hearing.
"Yeah," you merely nod and move your head a little closer to him while he does the same. "I'm in love with you too, Buck. Have been for quite some time."
With a serious look, he moves his hand from off your chest and up to your face where he brushes a finger over the delicate features of your cheekbone and down to your jawline. "I'm gonna kiss you now," he warns in a whisper and waits for you to give him a nod before he reaches his head forwards, finally claiming your mouth with his lips.
His hand snakes down the length of your spine and you press your entire front up against his hard chest and stomach while he caresses the small of your back, slipping his soft tongue inside your mouth. "God," he moans and gently grabs hold of your hips, pulling you impossibly close to him. "You make me feel whole again," he whispers against your skin and kisses a small line from your earlobe and down to the base of your clavicle. "What do you say sweetheart?" he mumbles and nibbles at your skin, "can I take you out?"
"Yeah, Buck, you can take me out," you squeeze his hand, and he smiles for the first time that evening, setting everything inside of you aflame.
He's finally smiling and it's because of you.
"I wanna do it the old-fashioned way," he says, beaming, "bring you flowers. Take you dancing. Show you how you're supposed to be treated."
You can't help but chuckle at his soft innocence. "You're an old man," you brush him over his hair, "nobody goes dancing anymore."
"I'll teach you," he chuckles back but lets it turn into a sharp hiss when he accidentally moves his broken elbow.
"That sounds lovely," you admit with a smile, excited at the prospect of having his hands on your hips while he tells you what to do, "- though I'm afraid we'll have to get that elbow sorted first if you want to manoeuvre me around on the dancefloor. I know you don't see the point in going but... med wing tomorrow morning?"
"Okay," he rolls his eyes with a laugh that makes your stomach go all warm and fuzzy. "If it gets me to go dancing with you just an hour earlier, it's worth the trip... Will you go with me?"
"Yeah, I'll go with you," you kiss his hand, and he chuckles so warmly your stomach lights up again. "I'll go with you always."
Synopsis: When another date ends in disaster, and Steve shows up in an attempt to âcheerâ you up, youâre instantly against everything. But itâs Steve, and you should know by now that he never take no for an answer.
WC: 3859
Category: Fluff
A lot of people liked my other Steve fic, so I felt inclined to make another. This time with a lot more fluff (youâre welcome @summerrivera777777).
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Needless to say, you were shocked when you heard the roar of a motorcycle.
You didnât do well with dates. In your 24 years of life, you had a total of one boyfriend, and he was the absolute worst. So, in the last six months, you have been avoiding all social activities like the plague and focusing solely on yourself and your future.
That meant that you had become very comfortable being a hermit and avoiding any and all contact with other human beings. You were happy that way.
So why was a man who looked like an absolute God sitting on a motorcycle at the front door of your house?
Well, because you broke that rule a week ago.
In all fairness, the man was cute. A nerdy, awkward kind of cute. And he was a gentleman. And you were lonely.
So, when he asked you for your number, you were too lonely to turn him down. You hadnât expected him to call, and you certainly didnât expect him to ask you out on a date. But you also didn't think you would have the willpower to say no.
So you accepted, and it turned out to be the biggest regret of your life. The ânerdâ was actually a complete dick, and after 30 minutes, you just wanted to go home. But you couldnât because he refused to pay for the meal, so you were stuck there with him.
The worst part of the night was when he got into his car and tried to follow you home. He kept insisting that he just wanted to be a good guy and make sure that you got home safely, but you were sure that he just wanted to see where you lived and probably get in a few gropes along the way.
Luckily, you were able to lose him about three blocks from your house. It was a good thing, too, because your phone had died a couple of blocks ago, and you were afraid that if you got caught by him, you wouldn't have a way to call for help.
The next day, you made an executive decision to stay the hell away from men, with the exception of a few nice, safe friends. That was how you ended up here, seven days later, hiding in your room and ignoring your doorbell.
The bell kept ringing, and you knew that whoever was out there wasn't going to go away anytime soon. Groaning, you threw your covers off of your body and stomped towards the front door.
You threw open the door, ready to rip someone a new one, when your angry speech caught in your throat.
Steve Rogers was standing on your front porch.
He was a friend from work, to simplify a very long story. You met him two years ago when you started at SHIELD. You were a tech genius, and you worked closely with the Avengers to keep their equipment running.
Steve was always sweet and funny. You had a lot in common and were very close. After a while, you started hanging out with him and his friends, Natasha, Sam, and Bucky. It was great.
As exceptions to men go, he was definitely a big one. He was a walking god, with the physique and the looks to prove it. And here he was, on your front porch, holding keys that belonged to the motorcycle parked out front.
You looked at the motorcycle, then back to Steve, before your face went blank.
"No."
"What?"
"No."
Steve cocked an eyebrow. A smile tugged at his lips as if he were amused.
"No?"
"Nope. Whatever you're trying to sell, I'm not buying."
"Why would I be trying to sell you something? Iâm not even selling anything."
"Itâs an expression, Steve, Jesus." You said, throwing your hands up in exasperation. Steve mightâve been your best friend, but the guy was such a 90-year-old sometimes. "If you think that I'm going to get on that thing with you, you're wrong. It's death on two wheels."
His eyes widened in surprise, a laugh bubbling in his throat. He looked over his shoulder at the bike, then back to you.
"That's... a little dramatic, don't you think?"
"I'm serious, Steve. It's not happening. I don't trust that thing, and I'm not going to die in some freak accident."
He crossed his arms over his chest, the sleeves of his leather jacket tightening over his biceps. His smile didn't fade as he spoke, which only annoyed you more.
"It's not going to kill you. Iâm quite insulted that you would think that I would put you in danger."
"You're an Avenger. You put me in danger just by existing."
His lips twitched, and you had the feeling that he was holding back a comment.
"Look," he said, leaning against the door frame. "You haven't come out with us in weeks, and I'm worried. It's not healthy to lock yourself in your house all the time. With the job we have, there's never a guarantee of tomorrow, and if I were you, I'd want to spend every day living it to the fullest."
His words caught you off guard. He was right. It had been almost two months since you had gone out with the group. You just couldn't find the motivation. You were content being at home, alone. You had gotten a little lax in your friendships, only going to work and coming straight home. And now, with the⌠issues⌠with your date, you just didn't have the heart to try again.
You could feel your resolve starting to crumble, but you tried to stay strong.
"That's a low blow, Rogers." You grumbled, crossing your arms over your chest. "But my answer is still no."
"You think that was a low blow?â He scoffed as he pushed himself away from the door and took a step forward.
He was so much taller than you, and his presence was overwhelming. With the added tightness of his clothing and the confidence in his eyes, it tricked your eyes into seeing him as bigger than he really was. He was big, of course, but right now, it felt like he was towering over you.
Your heart began to race, a flush spreading over your cheeks.
"You clearly never played football because if you did, you'd know that this was a real low blow."
Without warning, he grabbed you by the waist and threw you over his shoulder.
"Hey!" You squealed, slapping your hand against his lower back. He was wearing a black shirt and jeans, and you could see the muscles ripple in his back with every step that he took. "Put me down!"
"You're going to have fun today."
"Steve! Put me down right now! I swear to God if you don't-"
"You'll what?" He laughed, the deep rumble making your stomach flutter. "Punish me?"
You huffed as you pounded on his back with your fist. You weren't mad at him, really; you just didn't know how to respond.
Steve practically dragged you outside. You were sure that you looked ridiculous, but you were thankful that you lived far enough away from your neighbors for no one to witness this. When he finally set you down next to the motorcycle, you gave him a glare.
"You're an ass, Steve Rogers."
He gave you a smirk as he swung his leg over the bike, his leather jacket tightening around his arm as his muscles flexed. Personally, you hated leather, but the way it fit him...
"Steve, Iâm not wearing the right clothes."
He was quiet as his eyes swept over you. You were wearing shorts and a tank top since it was the middle of summer and you were hot, but he was looking at you like you were covered head to toe in leather.
"We can go buy something and change in the bathroom or something."
He seemed to think for a moment before he gave a single nod.
"Sure."
He started the bike and motioned for you to get on behind him. Goddamn it, Steve.
Sighing, you swung your leg over the bike and wrapped your arms around his torso. It was an incredibly intimate position, with your body pressed up against his and your faces mere inches apart. For a moment, you didnât even realize when he swung a helmet down in front of your face.
"Put this on, Scaredy-Cat."
"Shut up, I'm not scared. Just... concerned."
He raised an eyebrow at you, his smirk still ever-present. You rolled your eyes before slipping the helmet onto your head.
The engine rumbled beneath you, and Steve revved the engine a couple of times, laughing when you squeaked in surprise and gripped him tighter. You could feel the laughter in his chest, his muscles moving under your fingers.
"Hold on tight, princess. Wouldn't want you falling off."
"You're a dick."
"Language."
"I will push you off this bike."
Steve didn't say anything; he just pulled the kickstand up and eased the bike into drive.
You squealed when the bike began to move, tightening your hold on Steve and burying your face in his back. He didnât seem to mind; he just chuckled and sped up a bit.
You tried not to scream as he maneuvered the bike through traffic, weaving in and out of cars. It was a terrifying experience, especially since you had the distinct impression that Steve was taking advantage of the situation and driving recklessly.
You felt the wind on your legs and the constant hair strands whipping into your face, but you refused to look up. The speed, the closeness of the cars, and the fact that there was nothing keeping you on the bike except for Steve made it impossible to even think about moving.
When Steve finally stopped the bike, you had your eyes closed tight, and your body pressed completely up against him. Your arms were wrapped around him so tightly he was surprised you could breathe.
He took a moment to enjoy the feeling before gently prying your hands off of him and stepping off the bike. He turned and reached out a hand for you, waiting patiently for you to move. When you didnât, he moved back towards the bike and took the helmet off your head.
You were breathing hard, trying desperately not to show how scared you were.
"It wasnât that bad."
You shot him a glare, which made him grin.
"Just... shut up."
He laughed and helped you off the bike, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you close. He was a gentleman, of course, and you couldnât complain about the feeling of his hard body pressed up against yours, but the sudden closeness was a bit overwhelming.
"Ugh, I think I have whiplash."
"Liar," said Steve with another laugh, be dramatic. You liked it, admit it."
"Whatever, why are you even kidnapping me, anyways?"
"I told you. It's not healthy to sit in a dark room, alone, all day, every day."
"First, rude.â You said, giving him a nudge in the side. He let out a small sound, which made your eyes widen in surprise.
"Did that hurt you, oh Captain, my Captain?"
"It didn't hurt," he grumbled, rolling his eyes. "And second?"
"What?"
"First, rude," he mimicked in a high-pitched voice. "Second?"
"Oh! Yeah, why are we actually doing this?"
Thatâs when Steve paused. Your heart instantly dropped at his hesitation. Steve only hesitated for two reasons. The first reason would be if he were completely at a loss for words, and clearly, by his recent attitude, that wasnât the case. So that left the second reason: because he knew something that he either didnât want to tell you or something he wasnât supposed to know.
With recent events, it wasnât difficult to guess what was happening.
"Natasha told you, didn't she."
You were already pulling away from him, ready to go back home and hide in your bed for the rest of eternity, when he caught your wrist.
âHey,â His voice was softer, and there was a hint of sadness in his eyes. âIt doesn't matter. What matters is that you have a good time today, alright? So, forget about what happened, forget about what Natasha said, and just focus on having a good day. Okay?"
âI donât want a pity date, Steve. Itâs nice that you care and everything, but-â
"I'm not pity dating you."
His voice was firm, and his face was hard, the complete opposite of the way it was just moments before.
"Then what do you call this? My actual date sucked, and I've been cooped up in my house, so you thought, 'Hey, why not take her out and show her a good time?'"
Steve let out a sigh and shook his head, his fingers loosening around your wrist.
"No, no. That's not... I'm sorry."
The change in him was drastic. He seemed to shrink in on himself, and his head drooped like a kicked puppy.
"Steve,"
He lifted his head and looked at you, his baby-blue eyes filled with guilt.
"You have no idea how badly I want to punch that guy for treating you like that.â He spoke softly as if the words were only meant for him to hear. But, as the saying goes, the walls have ears, and the parking lot was pretty damn quiet. âBut that's not what this is. You're my friend, and I hate to see you sad. I'm not here just because of a stupid date. I'm here because I care about you."
There was a pause, a heavy silence hanging between the two of you. He was looking at you expectantly, a pleading look in his eyes.
"I'm not going to make you talk about it if you don't want to."
"Okay,"
"And I'm not going to bring it up again unless you do.
"Okay."
"And, I'm not going to ask you for anything in return, maybe a little more conversation, a smile, maybe a laugh, but other than that..."
A smile slowly crept onto your face. He had the uncanny ability to make everyone else smile, regardless of their mood, and he was the only one who could do it. Itâs not that his jokes were particularly funny because they weren't, but it was the way he said them.
He was an awkward, nervous mess most of the time, but when he was confident when he was in his element, there was no stopping him.
"You sure you want to waste all your energy on me, old man?"
His lips twitched at the nickname, his eyes brightening.
"For you, doll? Anything."
And there it was. That goddamn smile that made your heart skip a beat and butterflies erupt in your stomach. He was just too sweet, and it was completely unfair.
"Come on," he said, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and tugging you close. "Let's get you something nice."
You smiled as you walked next to him. As much as you hated the motorcycle ride, it was nice to spend some time with Steve. He parked outside a Target, and the two of you walked in, immediately making your way to the women's section.
You took charge almost immediately, going to the racks and picking out different things. Steve followed behind you, carrying your armfuls of clothes as you added more. You went through rack after rack, throwing the things that caught your eye into his arms.
After about the tenth outfit, you turned around and saw him standing there, his arms filled with clothing and a smile on his face. You ignored it or tried to, as you turned back around and went to another rack.
When you finally finished, you had an armful of outfits, and Steve was practically weighed down. He didn't seem to mind, though, and you had the feeling that he had enjoyed his role as a pack mule. When the shopping was done, you ran to the bathrooms and changed into the outfit while Steve waited outside.
A pullover hoodie and a pair of jeans, the closest thing that Target had to leather. Not exactly what you wanted, but it would work. When you stepped out of the stall, you found Steve sitting in one of the chairs, flipping through a magazine. Such a 90-year-old, again.
He looked up when he heard the door open, his eyes sweeping over your form.
"Where to now? The ditch?"
Steve rolled his eyes, a smile spreading across his lips.
"Youâre an avid book reader, right? What's the biggest bookstore in the area?"
"Are we going to Barnes and Noble or something?"
"If that's what's closest."
You paused, watching his expression. There was no sign of teasing, no hint that this was a joke.
"âŚReally? Barnes and Noble?"
"Is that an issue?"
The disbelief must have been written on your face because Steve gave a loud laugh, throwing his head back.
"Oh, come on. I can be spontaneous!"
"Sure," you mumbled, trying not to show how happy his statement had made you. He remembered a stupid fact about you that you had told him months ago. And he had stored it, not forgotten it.
You felt like you were in the twilight zone, but you weren't complaining.
Steve bought the outfit and threw the tags away, and the two of you got back on the motorcycle. It was easier, this time, with the knowledge that he had cared enough to listen to your ramblings. Maybe he cared enough to calm it.
You had your face buried in his back, not out of fear this time, but out of comfort. You couldnât see him smile as he sped up, but you could feel it.
At Barnes and Noble, he sat and watched as you wandered the store, a smile on his face. He didnât say anything, didn't pressure you into talking, didnât even try to join in; he just sat and listened as you read him the summaries of the books. You didnât even mean to; it just kind of happened.
One moment, you were looking through the books; the next, you were reading the synopsis out loud to Steve. He didnât say anything, didn't make any indication that he was listening, but you could tell by the way his head would turn towards you when you spoke. And once again, Steve was your personal pack mule, carrying the books that you were interested in.
By the end of the night, he had an armful of books, a satisfied smile on his face, and you were laughing. You couldnât remember the last time you had laughed this much, the last time you had felt so happy.
When you got home, the sky was dark, and the moon was high. Steve followed you inside and set the books down on the coffee table. He had refused to let you carry them, insisting that they would get ruined in your hands. You didn't bother fighting him on it and allowed him to carry them.
"Do you want a drink or anything? Something to eat?"
"No, thank you. I should probably be getting back."
"Oh." You paused, not really wanting him to leave, but you couldnât ask him to stay. You were friends, that was it, and nothing more. "Okay, yeah."
"Well," he started, his fingers flexing by his side. "I'll see you soon, then?"
"Yeah," you said, giving him a smile. "See you soon, Steve."
He looked like he was going to say something else before he gave you a soft smile and walked out.
Once he was gone, you shut the door and let out a sigh. Today was perfect, and you hated yourself for it. You hated yourself for enjoying yourself, hated that you were able to push away all thoughts of him. It was like the universe was taunting you, dangling the perfect guy in front of your face, and you couldnât have him.
"Why him, huh?"
"I can still hear you."
Steve's voice echoed through the house despite his absence in it, and you internally groaned as you got up to stare out the window. Damn, his super hearing.
You pulled the blinds aside and watched as Steve got on his bike, his helmet still in his hands.
"Steve."
He paused, turning his head towards the house. He couldnât hear what you were saying now that he was by his bike, not with the closed windows, but he could see the silhouette of your body against the curtains. You lifted it up in an instant, an invitation.
"Steve.â You repeated, and this time he heard it. Loud and clear.
"Yeah?"
"Did you really mean it? That this wasnât a pity date?"
Steve paused for a moment, his lips slightly parted. After a moment, he rested his helmet on the handlebars and made his way back to you. He stopped inches from you, slightly bending down through the window.
A smile and a simple glimpse at your lips was his only answer. He looked back in your eyes, his expression soft, waiting. He was leaving it up to you, not wanting to push, not wanting to scare. He wanted it, but he wasnât going to force it.
It was all the incentive that you needed.
You reached through the window and grabbed his jacket, pulling him forward and crashing your lips together. It was desperate and slightly awkward since you were halfway through the window, but neither of you seemed to care.
Steve reached forward and grabbed the side of the window, pushing it open even further and lifting you through. You let out a surprised squeak, which quickly turned into a moan as he pressed you up against the house.
His lips were warm and softer than you expected. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss.
After a few moments, Steve pulled away, his forehead resting on yours and a smile on his face.
"Okay, this wasn't a pity date."
Steve let out a laugh, the breath puffing against your face.
"Good. Glad we established that."
"What was this, then? I've been told that Captain America wasnât one to put out on the first date."
"Oh, yeah. Definitely not. I'm a gentleman."
"Then what's this, Steve? What was today?"
His arm tightened around you, and he pressed his lips against your forehead, taking a moment to gather his thoughts.
"Like I said, I can be spontaneous."
"Spontaneous," you mumbled, letting out a laugh.
"And," he continued, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose. "It seems good girls like a little bad every now and then. You especially, given your choice of dates."
"So, is that what this is? Captain America showing me a good time?"
"No. This is Steve Rogers showing his girl a good time."
"Your girl, huh?"
"Yeah," he murmured, his lips inches from yours. "My girl."
And when his lips met yours again, all you could think about was the leather jacket, the motorcycle, and the promise of more.
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I want to write, but can't get satisified with my own ideas right now. If anyone has any requests for Bucky or Steve, send them in! I'll consider writing them <3
A little note: I won't write any assult, torture, pregnancy, parents with children or smut.