Warnings : one mention of kinky stuff but that’s all
You and Steve met, when Bucky decided to introduce you to his best friend
At first Steve was intimated by you, especially your unusual makeup
But even though you were looking a bit scary for him, he decided to try making friends with you
He wasn’t regretting it, you were nice to him and he absolutely loved your personality. Of course you liked him too, he was probably the most polite person you ever met
After Bucky introduced you two to each other, you started hanging out
At first you were scared that he might not want to hang out with you, because you were looking so differently than most people, but Steve assured you that he loves the way you look
After spending a lot of time together, you two understood that as different as you thought you would be
The biggest difference between you two is your dressing style, but neither of you minds that
After sometime, you start dating
A lot of cuddles
Sometimes you would do his makeup or give him some clothes so he could look like you
He absolutely loves it, but he still prefers wearing his clothes outside (he’s not ready to wear them outside his house)
Him buying you some clothes/accessories he thibk you would like
Dates in abandoned places
At first Steve was against that idea, because he was afraid of being caught
But then he decided to give a try, he loved it
At first it felt bad, because he was scared someone could see him, so he was careful about doing this and he still is
But besides that, he enjoys this kinds of dates
He tried doing your makeup once or twice, it wasn’t looking so good, it was messy, but you appreciated the fact he tried his best
If drink monster energy or any other kind of energy drinks, he’ll make sure you don’t drink too much, he don’t want you to get hurt
If you would ask him to, he can buy you some energy drinks
Him helping you save money to buy platform boots
If someone makes fun of you being Goth, Steve’s not going to be very nice
He has a thing for your chokers, he probably has a kink, but won’t tell you, a least not until he’s ready to do so
Steve’s favorite part of your looks are accessories, especially rings
Basically he loves you and he’s happy that you’re being yourself
I Know Exactly Where This Leads - Steve Rogers (Smut) (One Shot)
Summary: Congratulations to Tiff @barnesafterglow on hitting 1k, this my submission for her #all’s well writing challenge. Honestly songs always set the pace for how my piece goes and the delicious combination of taylor swift and marvel just has me highly motivated. The song I have picked is style - taylor swift, 1989, the lyric is “I should just tell you to leave, cause I,”. I had so much fun writing this and listening to Taylor.I hope you enjoy reading! (this piece delves off course to the events post civil war)
Pairing:Steve Rogers x fem!Reader
Warnings:Smut 18+ Minors DNI, angst, fluff, Steve is a good dom regularly checking in, praise kink, size kink, swearing, edging the reader, oral fem receiving, also mr. steve rogers is a filthy filthy dirty talker and it shows here, aftercare, spoken feelings(gets a lil angsty), nomad steve (idk if this is a warning)
Returning back home during the late hours, there is a sense of calm. No one else is awake, and thoughts, those can finally crash away.
You take off the jacket, stolen from him. Before he left, left you all alone. You walk through the apartment, grabbing a bottle of water from the kitchen.
A figure shifts across the living room, “Who the fuck is there?” You move along the wall demanding an answer; hand trying to find the light switch.
Strong hands grab your waist just as you turn the lights on and form a fist to punch the intruder.
Your raised right hook stops midway. Mischievous blue eyes, crinkle with mirth as they gaze into your own.
Steve.
“What the fuck, Steve?” You’re nothing short of bewildered. For all you knew he was supposed to be gone with the wind. Undercover. Unseen. A Nomad.
“I can’t return to see my best girl?” He raises an eyebrow.
“The best girl you left?” You question voice full of defiance.
“Doll, you sided with him.” Steve feels the distaste in his mouth at the memories that surged.
“You could have told him.” You argue again, Steve’s grip on your hips tightens.
“Doll, I’m not here to talk about bygones.”
You gaze up at him confused, he steps closer, you feel the heat of his chest against yours, your palms on his biceps.
“I’m here for you.” Steve’s voice is in the deep baritone, that he always uses to coax you, that whispers dirty nothings into your skin.
pairing: steve rogers x black!reader (established) genre:uh… fluff? summary: in which the reader gets a dramatic hair transformation warnings: language (like one swear) and i guess suggestive content towards the end there. word count: 800+ (short ik)
a/n: because i can’t possibly be the only one that’s ever just vexed and cut their hair off (or at least though about it). Here’s electric avenue as well. finding a good gif is so foken hard….
You’re sat impatiently, your eyes glued on the television as you wait for your doorbell to ring. You were tired, tired of telling off grown ass people off for invading your personal space, being the only black person at work was a blessing— nobody ever really realised how truly unkempt your hair but it made you the token black and your co-workers treated you like it.
You had taken your time styling your twist-out the morning before and what had started as a beautiful crown atop your head had ended up a disheveled mess. So much so that you had rushed to cover it up during your lunch break, spending an exorbitant amount on a scarf that was ugly despite its price at a store that took way too long to get to and that you would have never gone to if not for your desperation.
Marching into the bathroom, you pulled out your phone; sending a video to your group chat.
“Tell me why I came to work looking like a queen and now I’m one discovery away from being Albert Einstein,” you chastised.
You set your phone down after, hiding your hair under the scarf. Your reflection stares back at you, face veiled in disdain and you can’t help the scoff that leaves your lips. Maybe you should ask for the rest of the day off.
You had come home in a fit of blind rage, the scarf was too tightly wound around your ead and given you a throbbing headache and once you had set yourself on your couch you were consumed by frustration and hastily opened your messages to read all your friends replies.
Outbottomed (Sam): bitch it’s blackbert einstein!
Dev(il): That was weak… anyway y/n you look like you got a white person to do your hair
Dev(il): You know them ones when you stretch your hair but then it starts raining heavily and you don’t have an umbrella on you… you know the rest
Sugar mimi: You better do something about that mess! No friend of mine can look that bummy
You don’t know what you had expected and you stare at your phone with a frown.
Amazon sells clippers, right?
The bell rang and as you rushed to open it you found the door handle being turned already- you stepped back, steps quickening as you moved to get a knife from the kitchen.
“Yeah it’s fine, I’ll sign for it,” you hear a familiar voice say, door closing after a pause and you relax, a smile making its way to your face when the man in question comes into view.
“So what did you order?” He asks, setting the package down on the kitchen counter.
“Hello to you too, and you’ll see,” you chime playfully as you pick the box up, placing a kiss on your boyfriend’s cheek before heading for your bedroom. “Wait in the living room! I’ll be out in a bit!” You call over your shoulder.
You’re standing in front of a mirror, your hair already sectioned and twisted from last night; you take scissors and try to get as close to the root as you can, the words ‘it’ll grow back’ leaving your mouth as a mantra. You switch the clippers on, the buzzing oddly addicting and suddenly your giddy for the change.
Steve is trying to distract himself, waiting for you to exit your bathroom, he can hear music playing and he’s not sure but he thinks it’s Electric Avenue.
He can’t help the smile that graces his lips and you walk out, hoodie pulled over your head and he thinks you look like that evil Kermit meme you showed him months ago.
You shyly lower the hood, revealing your new haircut- it was short- not a skin cut like that of the Dora Milaje but short enough to buy a lady-durag and make everyone seasick. He smiles wider now, gesturing for you to sit in his lap; you straddle him instead.
“You look beautiful, baby,” he says.
“Just beautiful?” You quip, playfully grinding against him, gauging his reaction with a mischievous grin, leaning down to place a chaste kiss on his lips as you attempt to get up but his hands grab your hips, drawing you back into him.
“You look beautiful and amazing and sexy and like you started something you don’t want to finish.” He begins to kiss down your jaw and when he gets to your neck they’re open-mouthed and sloppy and you hum approvingly as your fingers stroke the hair at the nape of his neck.
“We’re not doing this on the couch again, we should head for the bedroom before both of us are too caught up,” you mumble. and he grunts in response.
Steve secures his hands under your thighs and stand up. You can’t help but moan when his teeth gingerly pull at your earlobe but the words that follow make you smile like an idiot again.
“It really really suits you.”
You hum in response, hands busied with the task of undoing his shirt buttons “Just don’t complain when you find you have nothing to grab when I’m riding y-” your words are replaced with a yelp as he drops you on the bed.
“Maybe I’ll get you a scarf… or one of those things that Sam wears… a durag.”
You love the fall. The first day of September is a holiday for you. You break out your cozy sweaters, you drink nothing but pumpkin spice lattes, and you pull out the Halloween decor. Your nails are painted black, your favorite tea is brewing on the stove, and your one eyed black cat Sam paws at the plastic bats hanging from the corner of your kitchen counter. You remove the baked chicken from the oven and return to your squash as the familiar sound of his bike wafts toward you. You can’t help but smile. You knows what’s coming.
You continue to cook as you hear him head through the front door, his keys jingling. His heavy footsteps move through your small but cute house and then stop once he moves into the kitchen. You glance over your shoulder at him, “Hi babe.”
“Hi yourself.” He says as hemoves toward you, wrapping his strong arms around your waist.
You close your eyes as another smile spreads across your face. He pokes his nose into your curly hair and takes a deep breath, his eyes closing as he breathes you in. The two of you sway back and forth slowly to your own rhythm before he leans down and pecks your cheek with his pink lips. He opens his eyes again and moves them around the kitchen, taking in your themed decorations. He chuckles and it vibrates through you. You eye him as he moves around you, nodding his head slowly as he reaches out to touch the small pumpkin sitting the corner of the island. You bite your lip and try to stifle the laugh bubbling in your chest as he moves to the windows, checking out the ghost and zombie window clings. He then moves to the kitchen table, a beautiful old table from the forties that he found and restored a few years back. He taps the small red button on the skeleton centerpiece and watches unenthusiastically as the skeleton begins to dance and sing.
You snort from the pent up laughter. He turns and leans up against the table, crossing his arms over his chest with a smug look on his face, “I thought we talked about this?”
“Oh? We talked about what, dear?” Your voice is light and sweet, like a fifties housewife.
He squints his eyes and you smile wider. You know exactly what you two talked about. You’ve had many, many, MANY conversations about it. You still really can’t believe you ended up with him after he admitted his fauxpaux. It really hurt your heart. Steve Rogers hates Halloween. The blasphemy of it! But even more, Steve Rogers, six foot two, two hundred and forty pound Captain America, eats, lives, and breathes Christmas. Not just Christmas, though, you could tolerate that somewhat. No, no, your husband, the greatest Super Soldier of all time, love Christmas music. Hymns, songs, carols… he loves it all. Sometimes, you feel like it’s just to spite you. He stands from his spot at the table and starts to move toward your record player.
You place your hand on your hip, a smile playing on your lips, “Steve.”
“Yes?” He answers sweetly, combing through his expansive collection.
“Don’t.” You warn. He looks at you over his shoulder before completely ignoring you and picking out his favorite album, “Steven Grant Rogers, I mean it!”
He plucks the round disk from the cover and places it gingerly into the player, picking up the needle. You can’t help but laugh at his theatrics, “Captain!”
He sets the needle down despite your objections and for a few seconds, just static can be heard. But once the static clears, Judy Garland’s voice lights up the kitchen as she belts out Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas. You close your eyes in exacerbation, taking a deep breath, “Captain,” You say calmly.
“Yes dear?” He answers smugly.
“We talked about this.”
“Oh?”
You laugh wildly as he mocks you, “It’s too early for Christmas Carols!”
“So, let me get this straight. You can decorate the house in this morbid stuff two months early, but I can’t listen to Christmas music?”
You tap your foot, pretending to think over your answer, “Yes.”
It’s his turn to laugh, “That is not fair.”
“Life’s not fair buttercup.”
“I have to combat your ghoulish lust somehow! This is the only way I can do it.”
You fake offense, placing your hand to your chest as you lean back slightly. You look at each other as Judy croons in the background, a terrible mismatch for your skeletons, bats, zombies, and ghost decor. He quirks his eyebrow, that stupid smirk on his face as he believes he’s won something.
“It’s September.” You plead, “This is making my ears bleed.”
“This,” he motions around, “Makes my eyes bleed.”
You chuckle again, clicking your teeth as you return to stirring your pesto sauce, “I’m not taking it down.”
“Good.” He taunts, “I have plenty more Christmas records.”
“You know,” You start, motioning for him to start grabbing the plates and silverware, “You could at least have better taste and play Last Christmas by Wham.”
He stops reaching for the plates and looks back at you over his shoulder, his face scrunched, “Who?”
“Oh my god,” You giggle.
He moves around in the kitchen, grabbing plates, and cups, and silverware, humming rather loudly with Judy Garland. You shake your head and keep your eyes on him as he has the nerve to even dance a little. He grabs your wrist and spins you into his chest, smiling down on you as you laugh wildly again. You begin a sloppy foxtrot with him, pretty much just hanging onto him for dear life as he whisks you around. You throw your arms around his neck and hug him tightly, resting your chin on his shoulder as he slows down.
“I’ve missed you baby.” He whispers.
“I’ve missed you Captain.”
Steve holds you to him as though if he lets you go, he’ll never see you again. He spins you away from him slowly but keeps a hold of your much smaller hand. He pulls you back into him and you can’t help the smile that spreads across your lips. You stare up into those big eyes of his as the Christmas Song begins playing from the record player. You can’t remember how many September nights the two of you have spent slow dancing to Christmas music in the past five years, but you’ll never tell him that these are some of your favorite nights of the year. Despite the music choice.
You and Steve don’t even eat. The two of you end up in your bedroom, as usual, making love. You’re wrapped up in your sheets and comforter as your unclothed husband moves back out into kitchen after growing an appetite. Steve picks up the needle from the now skipping record, his hands full of food. He flicks his eyes toward his music collection just as he’s about to move back toward the bedroom, but stops as something catches his eye.
“You will never guess what I found.”
You toss your eyes toward him, a lazy smile on your face as he moves back into sight, “What’s that?”
He sets down the slices of cheesecake and wine before moving over toward the radio in your room. He slides a CD into it and turns back toward you, cocking his eyebrow as Last Christmas by Wham starts to fill your bedroom. You fall into a fit of laughter again, covering your face with your hands. God, you love this man.
You wipe your hands on your towel and check the old clock that hangs on the opposite wall. It’s going on two twelve am. He’ll be here soon. You smile to yourself, tucking some loose hair behind your ear before you get busy by cleaning the counter. You check on the rowdy table in the back, teenagers all decked out in their finest after their prom. Their laughing and excitement makes you smile again, reminding you of your own youth and of the times where you had no responsibilities and no worries in sight. You then move to the old man on the other side of the diner, sipping on his tea, reading the paper, and munching on his crispy bacon. He’s a regular. He’s been coming here for as long as you’ve moonlighted as a waitress and for many more years before that.
You glance at the clock again; two twenty two. You move back behind the counter and start a fresh pot of coffee, just for him. Who eats at a diner at two in the morning in New York City? All your friends ask, wondering why, night after night, year after year, you stay at this little dump. Old men and over the hill superhero’s, that’s who. You always smile as your mind wanders to the mysterious blonde stranger with the long eyelashes. He usually comes by himself, but sometimes, he brings his long haired friend with him. You recognized the two instantly, who wouldn’t? Their faces were plastered all over the news papers after that deadly explosion last year at the UN. Bucky Barnes was public enemy number one. But when he walked in behind the stoic Steve Rogers, he was anything but. He was quiet and respectful as you took their orders, barely making eye contact with you, his voice low and soft.
Steve was the same, just a little more direct. He made square eye contact with you. His yes ma’am, no ma’ams’ were confident but gentle. He was just as sweet as pie; they both were. Contrary to the stories of them punching and kicking and shooting their way through a herd of nazis or being a world class assassin. Steve came pretty regularly after that, usually at the same time, and always ordered the same thing; a black coffee, strong. He’d sometimes pair it with a piece of apple pie or a bowl of vanilla ice cream but usually, it was just cup after cup of black coffee as he stared out the window or doodled in his small notebook. One night, and you’re not even sure why, you stopped by his table and thanked him.
“For what?” He asked softly as he looked up at you behind that blonde hair.
“Just for everything you do. For keeping us safe.”
The two of you didn’t speak another word that night. He got up and left after another hour or two, and when you went by his table to collect his empty coffee cup, there was a note scribbled on the back of the receipt, along with a forty dollar tip. No ma’am, thank you. You don’t know why he thanked you, you’re not off saving the world. But, unlike the rest, maybe it’s because you treat him like a person. Not a commodity or a celebrity. You just serve him his coffee and leave him be. You glance over at the clock again, just as the door chimes as it opens. You don’t even look up. You just turn and move toward the coffee pot, pulling it from its home and grab two cups. You motion toward Jose, the short order cook, and he nods back toward you, winking. You move toward his favorite table and place the two cups on the surface, pouring the steaming black nectar into the mug as he brushes by you to sit.
You slide into the seat of the booth opposite him, pouring your own cup before sitting the pot down. You pick your eyes up toward him for the first time to find him staring at you, like he usually does, a slight smile on his face.
“Hi.” You say softly and simply, letting out a breath through your nose that you weren’t aware you were holding.
“Hi.” He answers, his own smile growing.
He holds the hot mug in his hands as he watches you perform surgery on yours. You pull three sugars out of the small, black holder and shake them thoroughly before tearing off the tops and tipping them over the black liquid. You then move for the tiny creamers, plucking two from the small bowl that sits near the window and pour them one by one. You grab a spoon and being to stir, watching the coffee go from jet black to caramel brown. You finally bring your cup to your lips and he does the same, waiting. You glance up at each other and hold your gazes as you both take your first sip. You set your cups down at nearly the same time, the sound of the glassware connecting with the tabletop is comfortable and familiar.
The kids behind you burst into laughter again at something on one of their phones. You turn slightly, watching them over your shoulder as Steve does the same, “They look nice. Prom night?” He asks, taking another sip.
“I think so. They’ve been here since about midnight.”
“At least they’re not out getting into trouble.” You laugh lightly, “They’re not giving you any guff are they?”
You roll your eyes a little, playfully, “No. They’ve been better than most adults.”
His aptitude for justice and order is overwhelming at times but, it is so him. You like it. You turn back toward him and rest your elbows on the table, wrapping your hands around your warm cup. You bring it up to your mouth but you don’t drink right away. You just look over at him as he gazes out of the window, lost in thought. The steam from his black coffee rises slowly and moves into the air before dissolving before your eyes. You take a slow sip, humming slightly as the sugary drink settles into your stomach. You’re not sure what you two are doing. Every night, well, mostly every night, when he’s not off in space fighting aliens and outside threats, for the last six months, the two of you sit together at two thirty in the morning and drink coffee. Sometimes you two talk a lot, other times not so much. Tonight is the obviously the latter. You like him. You’re not exactly sure how you like him, or even really what liking him means for you. You think that maybe he likes you; why else would he venture out this early in the morning for a pot of your terrible coffee?
He turns toward back toward you and blinks. Another slow smile spreads across his lips as you sheepishly look away, unable to keep yourself from smiling in return. He lifts his cup back to his lips and takes another drink as the kids behind you continue to laugh and joke and chortle about. Little do you know how much Steve enjoys his late night coffee dates with you. He watches you, just like you watch him, when you’re not looking. He likes your calm spirit. He likes that sometimes you do all the talking, andexpect absolutely nothing from him. You pick up on his anxiousness and fill the void with the happenings of your day, knowing and understanding that sometimes he just needs to escape himself. He needs to get away from Captain America. He likes your curly hair, your long fingers, and how bite your lip when you smile. He likes you.
He’s not sure what the two of you are doing either, he’s got far less experience in this kind of thing than you. But, until the two of you figure it out, he’s more than happy to meet you at two in the morning for some of your terrible coffee. He reaches out toward you, laying his hand palm up on the table as he turns his gaze out toward the street. You don’t hesitate. You never do. You lay your much smaller hand into his and watch as his fingers curl around yours. You smile again. So does he. He then lifts his black coffee to his lips and takes a long drink, smiling softly to himself as he rubs your fingers.
Summary: feeling insecure about your looks, Steve helps you to see what he sees.
You put away the last bit of the laundry. Life has been crazy this whole last week. The guys have been on mission after mission, meanwhile the aching pain in your side hasn’t subsided. Bruce, not to your delight, thinks you shouldn’t even be training. But you would go completely stir crazy laying in bed or on the couch all day.
What the boys know won’t hurt them. Besides, you want to try to stay in shape. Anytime you are under bed rest, you feel like your muscles turn to mush and your totally body fat sky rockets. Being insecure your whole life about your looks, you finally started to feel comfortable with all the cardio and weightlifting.
Especially around your friends from before becoming an Avenger. They all know you are a part of the team, your costume doesn’t exactly hide your identity. Neither did the fact that you blew up a baseball with your bare hands in college because it scared you. At a game the batter hit the ball into the crowd, it was coming for you, you threw your hands up in defense but never felt the ball hit your skin. Instead the ball fell to the ground in the small pieces that were left.
Fury found you shortly after. Explained to you that there are others, a team, a family that you could be a part of. You accepted the offer and never looked back. For once you felt like you belonged, but every once in a while some of your insecurities come flooding back.
“Hey gorgeous,” Steve’s deep voice creeps around your door frame. Joining your curled up body on your bed, Steve brushes your free hair behind your ear. “I have a surprise for you. I know you’ve been cooped up in this building for two weeks, so I brought your two friends from home.”
“Really?” You slowly sit up, griping your side. It feels like forever since you’ve seen them, and you’ve missed them desperately.
Steve nods his head with a smile. And before you know it, you leave Steve to smell the burning rubber from your rapid departure. Running through the pain, you make it to the corridor to see your long-term friends standing in awestruck wonder at the architecture.
“Oh my god! Christi! Abby!” You manage to apply your breaks just in time to keep from barreling the girls to the floor. Collecting your composure, you wrap each in an arm and offer a big group hug.
“Safe to say you like your surprise?” Steve appears by the stairs with a smug smirk.
Letting go of your girls, you race back toward Steve. Leaping into his arms, the pain doesn’t present itself until Steve’s arms securely wrap around you. Steve gets in a spin or two before putting you down. Kissing your temple, Steve apologizes for hurting you but you just shrug it off.
The girls and you end up in the art studio down the hall from your room. The movie Book Club plays in the background as the three of you attempt to paint while drinking your glasses of wine. Christi wants to know everything about the male Avengers. She is on the market for a boyfriend, and thinks a superhero will be a perfect match. However, Abby just wants to know about you and Steve.
“You two ARE dating right?” Abby takes a sip of her wine and wiggles the brows.
“We haven’t really put a title on it yet,” you can feel the warmth from the wine spread to your face. “We are definitely more than friends, but he has been so busy lately. Maybe once I’m back on the field we can talk about it.”
The girls tell you how impressed they were that Steve came to get them. They assumed when he got back from missions, the two of you would be inseparable. Honestly, they aren’t wrong but you also get your fair shared time with the others on the team. But that’s Steve, he is very big on personal space. It’s something you are very thankful for. Even though the two of you aren’t officially together it is easy to get lost in someone else and forget the world around you.
After painting, you move into the movie room. It is getting late, and you all are getting fairly tired. Sitting on the couch your gaze wanders to your thighs. In your peripheral you see the thin outline of your own friend’s thighs and notice how drastic the change is. You pretend not to notice the difference in body types between you and your friends.
Suddenly all insecurities from college and high school come flooding back. The fact that you were admiring your own body in the mirror just hours ago escapes you. Any feeling of accomplishment from your workouts, training, missions no longer exists. Not next to Christi and Abby.
You know it’s not their fault, and you’re not bitter toward them whatsoever. Christi eats a lot of junk but just so happens to be gifted with the perfect metabolism gene. Abby just does her own thing, no workouts and no dieting, but it works for her. You have always had more fat to you. Before becoming an Avenger, home workouts never did a thing and changing your diet did nothing as well. Since being here you have lost 20 lbs but you are still 10 – 15 lbs heavier than your friends next to you.
Agreeing on a childhood favorite, you grab a blanket and curl up in a ball. The more coverage you provide the greater the lie you can tell yourself of what lies beneath. The girls follow suit and the three of you talk and make comments about the movie until the three of you pass out.
Only a few hours later your body atomically wake up around 7:00 am. No matter the time you fall asleep, or the quality of sleep, your body always has a habit of waking you up early in the morning. The only other person in this building that I normally awake at this time is Steve. Though, after the rest he probably needed after the mission he is most likely still in bed.
You crawl off the couch carefully trying not to wake the girls. A searing pain ripples through your right side to your leg. Biting your lip helps keep your internal scream from moving up your throat. Shimmying the rest of the way out of the room, you head towards the locker room to start training.
“What do you think you are doing?” His surprisingly stern voice echoes through the training room as soon as you enter.
“STEVE! Seriously, one day you are going to give me a heart attack.”
Ignoring Steve’s original question, you make your way to the punching bag. You feel the need to build up your strength in your left arm. Perhaps if you get your strength back up the rest of the team may be convinced to let you back on the field early.
Hearing your fist hit leather, the sounds doesn’t over power the feeling of you skin shift. My body is ultimately made up of fat! I’m not even muscle, just fat and bone! Tears sting behind your eyes as the comments of from arrogant assholes from your past echo with each punch.
She’s easier to aim for, (Y/N)’s bigger than the others!
(Y/N) is a nice friend. I know she likes me, but you look more like my type.
As each voice filters through your ears each punch against the bag gets harder and harder. The sound radiates through the training center. Completely in a trance, you don’t notice Steve’s gaze on you as he approaches closer. Right before he gets too close you realize your leg muscles need a workout as well, and you take off towards the track.
“(Y/N)!” Steve shouts but the pain in your side is all you can focus on.
Wheezing, your arm wraps around your right side in attempt to console it. The pain radiates down the side of your body toward your leg once again. With each step you start to feel like jello.
The sound of your body hitting the ground registers before the additional pain does. Dazed and confused how you got there, you feel a presence next to you. They place both their hands on each side of your face and examine for any blood. You’d swat them away if it wasn’t for the sudden want of physical touch.
“Steve, do you think you’d prefer if I was skinnier?” Sleepiness invades your senses.
“What are you talking about?”
You don’t say anything else as Steve scoops you in his arms. All you do is point to your thighs and the little pudge on your stomach. Steve says nothing as he carries you to your room. All he does is place a soft kiss to the side of your head before laying you down on your bed covers.
“Where is this coming from?” Steve inquires, but you only shrug your shoulders. The both of you know that you do. Steve doesn’t press though, which you are thankful for.
“(Y/N), you’re brilliant. If it wasn’t for Stark or Banner you would easily be the smartest person I’ve ever known.” He soothingly brushes his fingers up and down your arms, luring you to sleep. “Outstandingly stunning. Though if we must talk specifically your body?”
Steve delays by gently pulling your body onto his. Resuming the touch of his fingers against your arm, you wait for him to continue. The butterflies in your stomach ache as much as your injury pain. Assuming the worst, you’re not sure if you really want to know or not.
“I assume this trip of insecurity is due to your friends being here.” No offensiveness rises within you. You’ve told Steve about this before. “No, you’re not as thin as them. But they’re not as fit as you are. I know you hate your thighs the most, but doll trust me they are mostly hard muscle. Of which I find way more attractive than being super skinny, but unable to effectively fight.”
“I’m sorry-,” you start before Steve cuts you off with a kiss.
“You don’t need to be sorry. I get it, and I love you.” And this time you kiss him.
Warnings: Just tooth rotting fluff and a kid with a big mouth.
Summary: Fluff. Your niece is spending the night at the tower and the two of you take over the movie room for a Frozen marathon.
“Hey Carley.” You greet your best friend as you pick up your phone.
“Hey sweetie. I have a huge favor to ask you.” Carley sounds nervous.
“Okay. What’s up?” You ask.
“Nina was supposed to spend the night with a friend but she’s got a virus and now Nina can’t go and she’s heartbroken. And… and I was supposed to have Nick over for dinner and some alone time tonight. Is there… I’m sorry, but is there any way she can spend the night with you? I know I’m asking a lot.” Carley was practically babbling. Nina is her 5 year old daughter and your “niece” whom you adore.
“Hang on a second. Lemme check into it.” You had been heading for the common room in order to get some lunch and you were glad to find Steve and Bucky there. “Steve, Bucky, hey, would anyone have a problem if my five year old niece, Nina, spent the night and we took over the movie room?”
“You have a niece?” Bucky asks.
“She’s my best friend’s daughter.” You say.
“I don’t see that being a problem.” Steve smiles at you while Bucky nods.
Pairing(s): Steve Roger x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader
A/N: First off, I would like to apologize for how long this took to get out. I was feeling super unmotivated for a while there. Also the day that I finished this was the day before Chadwick Boseman’s tragic death and I just didn’t feel right posting this immediately following that, so I made the decision to wait a couple of days though that is not enough time to properly mourn this legend that was gone too soon. So without further ado, here is part 3 of Time Gone By.
Steve was called to the Council Room at noon. He walked in to already find every available Avenger and fighter already crowded into the room. Various representatives from each battalion were scattered around the edges of the room while T’challa stood with you, Bucky, Sam, Rhodey, and Nat around a large table. Steve spotted his sister and mother sitting just behind T’challa. All of the chairs that usually adorned the room had been moved somewhere else in the palace to make room for everybody. The mood was somber and heavy. Almost everyone’s expression was stormy except you and Nat who were talking animatedly with one another. Bucky was caught in a serious looking conversation with T’challa. You looked up to see Steve walking towards you and immediately you shut up and your facial expression became just as gloomy as everybody else’s. Bucky noticed as you tensed and cut off his conversation with T’challa to stand protectively behind you and placed a gentle arm around your waist possessively.
“Your Majesty, I’m sorry I didn’t realize that I was late.” Steve apologized as he approached T’challa.
“Nonsense Captain.You’re right on time. We were just finalizing the battle plans and we wanted to catch you up to speed.” T’challa said as warmly as he could muster given their current situation, but Steve could see the thinly veiled fear in his eyes.
“Oh?” Steve asked in a false disinterested tone barely masking his shock at having been left out of the planning.
“Yes, Steven. We’ve been planning this for weeks, but you wouldn’t know that, would you? You were too far off the grid to call or write so how could we have found you to help us make battle plans,” you said in a mock cheery tone, disguising all of the things that you really wanted to say to him.
“That was uncalled for,” he replied authoritatively.
“What did I say that wasn’t true?”
“Please, please. Can we resume discussing strategy?” T’challa cut in.
“Sorry, T’challa,” you said as you returned to your previous more focused stance, your eyes intent on the battle plans on the table before you.
“Thank you. So the Dora Milaje as well as the Jabari will follow the majority of the Avengers and I into battle. We will all advance in a line and hope to defend the border. If they break through, we will need to forma U and funnel them into our waiting arms. Y/N and Wanda will stay to defend the palace, my sister and Vision.”
“It’s too dangerous,” Steve protested.
“Who said that you got an opinion?” you muttered venomously.
“When I left-“
“A lot has changed since you left.”
“When I left,” Steve continued, attempting to pick up where he left off.
“When you left is irrelevant!”
“When I left, you were harmless. You wouldn’t be able to defend yourself, and for that matter, I have a hard time believing that you can now.”
“Asshole!”
“I’m just trying to protect you!” Steve shouted back.
“Well, stop it!” you said before storming out of the room.
…
A few hours later, Steve heard a knock at his door. He opened it up expecting to find Nat behind it, but was surprised to see Wanda there. She looked like a mess. Her hair looked as though it hadn’t been brushed in days, and she was wearing stained sweats.
“Hey. How have you been?” he greeted her.
“As well as can be expected, but really I should be asking you that question. I heard about your outburst today.”
“I just want to protect her.”
“But she’s not yours to protect anymore. Please tell me that you understand that. You have to stop living in this delusion that everything is the same as when you left three years ago,” Wanda said as she watched the light in Steve’s eyes dim as he stared at the floor. She could feel a piece of her heart breaking for him.
He was the one who had been there for her after she lost Pietro, and the only one who had provided her the slightest comfort. He had related. It reminded him of losing Bucky. He had always fought for her, even when she was responsible for all of those deaths in Lagos. He had been a father figure to her, but now he was just a shell of the man that she used to know.
“I know that I ruined everything when I left, but I thought that a part of her would still love me.”
“And a part of her does, but she had to move on. You weren’t there, but she was devastated. You were her everything and you dropped her like garbage.”
“I just need to know that she’s safe. What’s so wrong with that?”
“Possessive doesn’t look good on you Steve, especially not for another man’s girl.”
“She can’t have made up for a lifetime of training in 3 years.”
“You taught me in a couple of months.”
“But I never wanted this life for her,” Steve said as his voice broke.
“But it’s the one that she has, and you can’t take it away from her or turn back time. This is who she is now and you have to accept that. You know, I was so mad when you left. I’m even madder now.”
“I shouldn’t have left you like that. You were going through some terrible things, and I should’ve been there for you,” Steve said mournfully while still staring at his shoes.
“No. Do you realize that I might lose the only person that I have been able to bring myself to truly love since Pietro? I fell in love with him because he seemed so permanent, like he would never die, and now he might leave me too. You had a love like mine, you had everything, and you threw it all away. It seems so careless now more than ever when I am fighting for the very thing that you let die,” Wanda said, her voice breaking and her eyes glassy.
“I’m so sorry, Wanda. I didn’t th-“
“No you didn’t, but you should have. I’ll see you on the other side,” she cut him off as she reached for the door.
“Of the battle?”
“Or else” Wanda finished as she left.
Steve realized after his conversation where he had to go. He knocked on the door to find Bucky standing behind it.
“Hey man, what are you doing here?”
“Is Y/N here?” Steve asked tentatively.
“No.”
“Good because I’m here to see you. We need to talk,” Steve said as he walked past Bucky and into your room before taking a seat on the bed.
“Yeah, sure, come right in,” Bucky muttered under his breath.
“She thinks that I left her.”
“Yeah, buddy, because you did.”
“No I didn’t. I told you how to contact me before you went into the ice. You knew where I was. If she had wanted to find me, she could’ve asked you. Why doesn’t she know that? I never really left her. When were you going to tell her that?”
“When I went into the ice, I didn’t know what would happen, and then I came out and she was there and you weren’t. She was heartbroken, and I wasn’t at my best either, not that you cared. We had to help each other and then things just happened. No offense, but at that point, she didn’t really seem like she wanted to be in contact with you, and I didn’t want to upset her, so I didn’t tell her and risk upsetting her.”
“But I did care. I would’ve come back if I had known that she needed me!” Steve protested.
“She never stopped needing you, and you still left anyway. Now I think that it’s time that you leave.”
“And what about us Bucky?” Steve asked as he stood up angrily.
“What about us? You left me too!”
“No I didn’t. You could’ve come with me.”
“No I couldn’t. I was dangerous. I had to go into the ice. If it had been you, I would’ve been there.”
“I thought that we were past this.”
“Not as far past it as things seemed. Now I think it’s time that you go.”
Steve huffed as he stormed out the door. There was only one place that he wanted to go, one place that would make him feel better. He headed towards the gym, determined to punch his feelings out like a typical problematic white boy with anger issues. As he neared the gym, he could hear grunts and thuds coming from inside. Weird. He thought that he would be the only one at the gym the day before the fight. Everybody else should be resting, still the grunts persisted. He rounded the corner and peered inside of the gym to find you attacking a punching bag like your life depended on it, which it would tomorrow. Steve had to admit; you truly were talented and obviously a fast learner.
“Impressive form,” he commented as he walked through the doors.
“I don’t remember asking,” you panted as you stopped for just a second to grab a sip of your water.
“I want to apologize for what I said this morning. I was wrong. You can obviously hold your own, and I’m sorry for insinuating otherwise.”
“Insinuating? Are you kidding me! You did everything but flat out call me incapable in a room full of people, whose respect I had to work so hard to earn. Do you know that when most of these people met me I was an emotional mess? They never thought that I could learn to fight because I was pathetic, and you made me that way, but you know what? I worked, and I trained, and I tried so hard, and I clawed my way to the top of the chain of command. I earned my spot at that table, and you came in there today and placed doubts in the mind of those people, my people! You called back all those memories of the weak little girl I was, and I hate you for that. You can leave me, and I’ll survive, but you cannot just come back into my life and call my accomplishments into question like you know me or the work I put in. You cannot base your opinion of me off of the mess you made me,” you finished in a dangerously even tone.
Steve stood there in shocked silence for a few moments. You would never have spoken to him like that 3 years ago. The maddest you ever got was when he argued that Coke was better than Pepsi or that Coach was the best roommate on New Girl. He didn’t recognize the strong, confident, and independent woman standing in front of him today. He finally found the strength to speak again and muttered out weakly, “I just came down here to hit a punching bag.”
“Really? And here I thought that you were more the punching holes in walls type of incel.”
“Y/N, please.”
“Fine, you wanna spar?”
“Sure,” Steve said as he headed over to the mat that covered a large expanse of the floor.
You took your place opposite of him, and out of nowhere, leapt at him like a tornado. You kicked at his stomach, but he blocked it at the last minute. He tried to punch you, but swung too far to the left, leaving his middle unguarded. You ran at him headfirst like a battering ram and knocked him onto his back. He tried to wrestle for control and flip you, but you clenched your thighs and remained squarely on top of him. You bent down slowly until your lips brushed against Steve’s ear and whispered in a low husky voice.
“You let me win.”
“What? No I didn’t!” Steve exclaimed as he tried to sit up.
“Do you wanna try this again?”
“Y/N, you know it’ s not fair, no matter how good you are.”
“Do you let Nat win?”
“Well no, but she’s Nat. If I did, she would cut my balls off, and besides, she’s a former Soviet spy. She sneaks up on me.”
“Ok, and she trained me. Honestly, of the two of us, I’m the more likely to cut off your balls. I have a motive and all.”
“Fine. Do you really want to do this?”
“No, Steve. I asked you to spar, but I really wanted to sit down and have a tea party,” You said sarcastically as you stood up and let Steve up from the ground.
“Was that sarcasm? I feel like that was sarcasm.”
“No shit, Sherlock.”
“You know I actually understood that!” Steve said excitedly.
“I would hope so because those stories were written in the 1800s. God, you expect people to applaud everything you do, don’t you?”
“You used to.”
“I was a fool back then. Like Daisy Buchanan said, ‘That’s the best thing a girl can be in this world, a beautiful little fool.”
“The Great Gatsby,” Steve said almost reverently.
“Wow! You got that one too!” you mock exclaimed even more sarcastically than before. “Now, fight me for real this time, and I mean it.”
You resumed your position and Steve came at you this time. He tried to sweep your legs out from under you, but you stepped back out of his range quickly. You aimed a blow to his side, but he blocked it easily.
“You know, I’m actually at a disadvantage without my shield.”
“Shut it supersoldier!” you panted.
Steve kneed you in the stomach and you quickly had you on your back after that. You almost managed to wriggle out from under him, but he pressed his grip tighter. You managed to flip him on his back though, and pin him, but he pulled you off of him by your thighs and pushed you into the mat face first.
“Is this what you wanted, daisy?” he asked, using his old pet name for you.
Hearing it again sent you spiraling. It reminded you of the date that he had given it to you on. It was one of your first ones, and also your favorite. Before he had left, you considered it the best day of your life. After, it just served as a cruel reminder of everything that you had lost.
He had taken you out to the middle of upstate New York, promising a surprise you wouldn’t forget. He pulled the truck over to a service road, and led you through the woods until you reached the edge of a meadow filled with daisies. You had a picnic and talked and just enjoyed each others’ company away from all of the pressures of the city and saving the world. Later, you had fallen asleep in the warm sunshine and when you had woken up, there was a daisy chain waiting on your chest. You sat up, grinning and placed it on your head, beaming from ear to ear.
“You’re so beautiful, like my little daisy,” he had whispered awestruck. That was the moment that you knew you loved him. That was the moment that would remained burned into your heart forever and you hated Steve for souring it.
Coming back to the present, you roughly shoved Steve off of you, you face burning red. You rushed out of the room right as the tears started running down your cheeks.
“You lied to me,” Steve huffed out as he stormed up to the bar.
“What?” Natasha asked, taken off guard by Steve’s question and his sudden appearance. His face was red and puffy, and his eyes were glassy.
“She’s with him.”
“It wasn’t my place to tell you.”
“No, you just didn’t want to tell me!”
“Steve, calm down!” Nat said as she reached what was meant to be a soothing hand across the bar to rest it on his shoulder, but he just shook it off.
The party was in full bloom around them. People were streaming around them decked out in all their finery. It was like a perverted kind of last rights. They all knew of what was to come, but at least they could cover it up with makeup and pretty clothes for the night in an attempt to forget themselves.
Steve started to cry softly, a tear or two racing down his cheeks at a time. Natasha took notice, and poured him a drink before sliding it across the bar to him. He drank the entire thing in one swig without even wincing. He wasn’t even focused enough to feel it.
“You’ll be okay.”
“And what if I won’t? She was the best thing that ever happened to me, and I left her. Now, I have to watch her gallivanting around with my best friend!”
“They hardly gallivant.” Natasha joked.
“Nat!”
“What? You said it yourself; you left her. Now, get over it.”
“Shouldn’t you be a little more sympathetic?”
“I’m Russian. And you’re a soldier. Hell, you’re not even that. You’re a super soldier, and now you’re crying into your glass over a woman. You’ve seen some of life’s worst atrocities. You saw firsthand what Nazis did to people. You’ve fought the worst of the worst. You’ve seen and committed war crimes. You’ve been through a hell of a lot worse than a bad breakup, and you’re acting like a child. It’s pathetic, especially considering that you did this to yourself.”
“So you hate me now too?”
“I said that I had forgiven you, not that I wasn’t still mad.”
“Really, Nat? We’re gonna be fighting on the same team the day after next,” Steve said in his old team leader voice he used to order his fellow teammates around. He could see a slight shift in Natasha when she heard it. She froze and her eyes grew impossibly colder.
“I can bench my feelings. The question is can you?”
“I think I’m gonna turn in for the night.”
“That’s probably for the best.”
“See you tomorrow, Nat.”
When he reached his room, he sat on the bed for a while. Steve didn’t have the energy to take his suit off, so he just sat there, shoes still on and everything. He hadn’t even loosened his tie. He just stared out the window with unseeing eyes.
Everything that you had said was true. He had left, and he couldn’t change that, but he thought that you might have waited for him. It was a stupid notion, and he knew that, but somewhere along the way he got so wrapped up in being Captain America that he forgot to be Steve Rogers. He thought that you would wait around the way that his adoring public always did. Looking back on it, he had been neglectful, and not just when he left. Maybe you were better off with Bucky, but he couldn’t believe that. The two of you were soulmates. Maybe he didn’t treat you like it, but you were his everything.
He should just leave again after the battle. It was obvious that nobody around here needed or wanted him there. Hell, not even Sharon wanted him around anymore. He had no place to go.
He finally had the strength to ask the AI in his room to look up your file. Your smiling face showed up, projected on the window, so different than the one that he had seen tonight. It was the picture from your first day working at SHIELD. You were the handler for the Avengers. Prior to that you had done the same for the Navy SEALS. You had also graduated from Stanford, top of your class, with a degree in International Relations. Needless to say, you were qualified for the job. When Steve scrolled further down on your career achievements, he was confused. When had you become an official member of the Avengers? Training records were linked underneath, and he clicked on them. It read Combat Agent- trained by Natasha Romanoff. He scrolled down further and clicked on one of your training videos. You were sparring with Bucky, and it was clear that he wasn’t pulling his punches. Steve was surprised at how hard he was attacking you, and winced, terrified that you would be hurt. To be fair, you were getting in some good hits of your own. Suddenly, Bucky’s legs were undefended, forgotten in his efforts to defend himself from you, and you swept them out from under him. You pinned him to the floor, the two of you giggling madly in the video. You captured his lips in a passionate kiss right before the video cut off.
That image would be burned into his brain forever. He couldn’t describe the way that it hurt him to see that. If he could take it all back he would. Sometimes he wished that he was just a kid in Brooklyn again, before the serum, and the ice, and the Avengers.
Hell, even that seemed like so long ago. How many more wormholes had torn open the sky since that first one in New York so long ago. Back then it was just the six of them. Now, it seemed like the Avengers were no longer a team, but an army. You were just the latest.
He figured that although the party had ended, Nat would still be awake. She could never sleep easily. Although he was probably the last person she wanted to see right now, he needed to speak to her.
He walked down the hallway, after getting directions to her room, and knocked on her door quietly, in case she was asleep.
“Steve?” Natasha asked as she opened her door.
“When did you start training Y/N?”
“What?”
“I saw that she’s a ‘combat agent’ now,” he said, placing air quotes around the words.
“She is, and she earned that position,”Nat replied coldly.
“When?”
“Right after you left. She was upset, and she wanted to learn. Who was I to turn her down? Every woman has a right to learn to protect herself.”
“Why?”
“She didn’t have you to protect her anymore.”
“Is she going to be fighting the day after next?” Steve asked with increasing concern.
“She’ll stay in the palace and protect Shuri and the labs.”
“It’s too dangerous.”
“Her safety isn’t your concern, is it?”
“Dammit, Nat, of course I care about her safety!”
“So you cared about protecting her from halfway across the world?”
“Why does everybody have to keep bringing that up?”
“Because it showed your true priorities Steve, and they sure as hell aren’t us. Her safety is no longer your job. It’s Barnes’, and he’s more than up to the task because unlike some people he won’t just leave her,” Nat spat at him coldly.
“Can we just talk, Nat?”
“Come inside. I’ll pour us both a drink.”
Steve walked into Nat’s room and sat on her bed as she poured them both heaping glasses of vodka. Her movements were reserved and sharp, not the relaxed way they used to be when Natasha trusted him. She handed him the glass and folded herself tightly into the armchair across from the bed. Steve took a sip of his drink and gagged.
“You drink this swill straight?”
“I’m Russian,” she said, her explanation for everything. “What did you want to talk about?”
“You understand why I did it right?”
“I don’t know. I know you loved Peggy, but I couldn’t imagine leaving the only family I’ve known to chase after some figment of the past. So I’ll give you the chance to explain it to me.”
“When things were tough or I felt lost, I turned to her. She was my rock, the only thing that made sense to me in these uncertain times. She was the only thing that felt real anymore, so to think that I knew nothing about her, that I didn’t even know Sharon was her niece… it broke me.”
“That sucks, but you could’ve stayed. You could’ve talked to us. Why did you have to follow her?”
“I needed answers,” he said simply in response.
“Did you get any?”
“More questions than answers. You know, she discovered the Red Room. Peggy was the first to put it on SHIELD’s radar.”
“I know.”
“She knew a girl like you, but she was a little harder to reform, Dorothy Underwood.”
“Known as one of the program’s failures. Although, I suppose, so am I. Only the least skilled would ever be caught by SHIELD.”
“Did you ever get the chance to meet her?”
“Once. Fury didn’t like that Clint had brought back a stray until Peggy Carter stormed into the room. She was the one who demanded that I have a position at SHIELD. Without her, I wouldn’t have this family or this life.”
“Just another thing that I never knew about her.”
“There will always be some mystery about her. If there wasn’t she wouldn’t really be Peggy, would she, if that even was her real name?”
“Do you think that everybody will forgive me?” Steve asked as he looked up from his lap with fear etched in his eyes.
“I don’t know. You were fighting with Tony when you dropped everything, and then you just left your only remaining friends.”
“I can’t get her back, can I?” Steve asked, staring down at the glass in his hands.
“I honestly don’t know, but I don’t think you’d be right to try.”
“What are they like together? Y/N and Bucky?”
“He’s good to her, treats her the way she ought to be treated. She was shattered when you left, wouldn’t talk, wouldn’t eat, nothing. He really picked up the pieces, put her back together. She’s his everything, now. I mean, you should see the way that he looks at her, like she hung the moon or something, and she’s good for him too. You know, he rarely has panic attacks anymore.”
“I’m happy for them,” Steve said with tears in his eyes.
“Steve-“
“No, I am really. It’s fine. They’re better off without me,” he said before racing out of the room.
He ran back into his own apartment, and collapsed onto his bed before sobbing into his pillow like a little boy. He fell asleep like that.
…
Steve woke up early the next morning, his face stiff with dried tears. Breakfast was already waiting outside his door. It was meager, just a bagel and some sausage, but it was to be expected. Today would be spent preparing for the battle tomorrow. Steve ate his breakfast quickly, and went for a brief run around the palace.
He stopped after a while and found a low wall to sit on. He watched the sun rise over the citadel. He thought back to last night and all that Nat had said. Bucky was better for you, and you two would be happy together. He had to give up. Resigned to his decision, he started to jog back towards the entrance to the palace. He knew that he had to apologize for his actions last night, and he was too impatient to wait until after he showered, so he jogged up to your room and knocked on the door hesitantly.
Hey,” he said nervously as the door swung open to see you standing behind it, still wearing your pajamas and a tired expression on your face. The one thing that hadn’t changed evidently was your reliance on coffee.
“What are you doing here, Steve?”
“I wanted to apologize for last night.”
“Ok.”
“I heard that you’re an official part of the Avengers now. Congratulations.”
“Hey doll, who’s at the door?” Bucky called out as he entered the room, having just showered and wearing nothing but a towel. “Oh, hey Steve.”
“Oh, so you and Bucky are living together? That’s uh… that’s… you know, that’s just really great. Good for you two.”
“I don’t remember asking for your approval. What do you really want?”
“I told you,” he stammered quietly as Bucky came to stand beside you at the door, his features contorted with interest. “I wanted to apologize.”
“Well, you’ve done that,” you said before closing the door in his face.
Summary: Steve left, and when he comes back, things have changed. (Not canon compliant)
A/N: Hey y’all. This is my new series. I hope y’all enjoy it. Also I know that I should start a new paragraph eveytime that sombody new speaks but I hit the 250 text block limit. So yes, I know I am not following basic grammar rules, and yes, it makes me cringe too. Next, I know it looks like Time Gone By I, but the name is Time Gone By. The I is just a Roman numeral. I know that I should have put a colon there, but when I did, it kind of irritated me so I deleted it.
As Steve walked through the gates of the Wakandan palace, he couldn’t hold in his admiration. His head was on a swivel as he took in the view of the city. It was a sight that he never thought he would see. In the 40s, Wakanda had been seen as a primitive third world country. By the 2010s, it seemed that not much had changed. The world still had yet to see this side of Wakanda, although it seemed that they wanted it that way. In fact, Steve, himself, had only ever really thought about it as the place his shield was made up until now. Walking through the palace gates, the first person that he saw was Bucky. He was excited to see his best friend for the first time in so many years. It was like a pattern for them- the world ripping them apart only to put them back together again. Only, Bucky didn’t look quite as happy to see Steve. He actually looked nervous.
“Hey, Buck. It’s been a while,” he called out as he ran towards Bucky and engulfed him in a tight hug that wasn’t returned nearly as enthusiastically. Then, he remembered where he was, disentangled himself from his friend, and bowed to the king. “I’m sorry, your majesty. That was disrespectful. I forgot myself. I apologize.”
“Please don’t apologize, and call me T’challa,” he replied in his lightly accented English that sounded so posh.
“Thank you, T’challa, and thank you for your hospitality. Now, Buck, how have you been? Tell me everything. It’s been so long.”
“Uh… Things have been different without you. I missed you,” he stammered, not quite meeting Steve’s eyes,
“I missed you too, bud. Now, where is she?”
“Who?”
“C’mon Buck. Don’t play stupid. You know who I’m talking about. Where’s Y/N?”
“Um, Steve. Things have changed since you’ve been gone. There’s a lot to talk about, you know?”
“No, I really don’t. What are you saying here, Buck?”
“I think now would be a good time to excuse myself,” T’challa said before turning and walking back into the palace. He signaled for the guard and everybody else to follow him.
‘C’mon, Buck. Just tell me what’s going on. I didn’t think that we kept things from each other.”
“No, you’re right. We don’t. It’s just that you left. You ran off and you followed Peggy’s niece around Europe for three years. Look, I get it. Peggy died and you were in a bad place, but was it really worth it? Was it worth it to leave the best thing that ever happened to your sorry ass to follow some remnant of Peggy like a dog chasing a stick?”
“Bucky, if you have something to say to me, just tell me, and stop beating around the bush!”
“I just don’t think that it’s a very good idea for you to see her right now,” Bucky said quietly, staring at his feet.
“Really? Who died and made you king?”
“Very mature, Steve.”
“If I want to see my girlfriend, I damn well will!”
“She’s not your girlfriend anymore!”
“What?” Steve asked, uncomprehending.
“You left to chase tail in Europe, and you think that you can just come back, and everything will be the same. You act like you were gone for a week or two, but it was three fucking years. You left us, all of us! Things have changed! You left her for another woman! She’s moved on! She doesn’t want to see you, Steve!”
“Moved on? Who has she moved on with?”
“Nobody. She’s just moved on,” Bucky said, sounding exasperated. “Look, I don’t want to talk about this anymore. There’s a room for you in the palace. You can set your stuff there.”
“Thanks,” Steve replied, before storming off into the palace.
When he reached his room, he marveled at it. The technology in there put that of the Compound or Tower to shame. The window stretched from floor to ceiling, and the view was incredible. It was a stark contrast to the view he was used to from his crappy flat in 40s Brooklyn, or the view of New York from the Tower. It even weirded him out not to see Thor and Nat wailing on each other in a field outside. Instead, he saw wide open spaces unlike New York and beautiful architecture unlike the Compound. It was all mixed together to create the most beautiful citadel that Steve had ever seen. He thought about asking whatever virtual assistant that was undoubtedly hooked up in his room about you, but he had only barely mastered JARVIS. He didn’t even know the name of this one, so he just sat on the bed and thought about what Bucky had said for a while. It wasn’t all true, was it? Had he really been gone that long? It hadn’t felt like three years when he had been with Sharon. Despite what everybody thought, and despite that ill timed kiss, he hadn’t been with Sharon for sex or a relationship or whatever. It was just that he had realized at the funeral when Sharon spoke as Peggy’s niece, how little he knew about Peggy’s life other than when he knew her. He needed to piece it together. He needed to know more. He wasn’t ready to let go yet, so yeah, he followed a woman around Europe just to find out more about her dead aunt. He hadn’t really seen himself as leaving you. He had meant to keep in touch with you. Really, he had. He had meant to come back, but two weeks turned to four, then eight, then three whole years. When had he let that happen? Suddenly, he heard a knock at his door. Steve opened it to find T’challa standing behind it.
“Prince T’challa, what can I do for you?”
“I thought I told you that just T’challa is fine” he teased Steve lightly.
“I’m sorry? What did you come to talk about?”
“I thought I should come and welcome you properly. It didn’t seem like things were good between you and your friend.”
“No, they weren’t, but it’s none of our concern. I wouldn’t want to bother you with my problems when you’re already showing me so much hospitality.”
“If a king cannot listen to the difficulties of his people, he has no business being king.”
“Very wise.”
“My father told me that.”
“He was a good man.”
“I know, but I am not here to talk about him. I thought I would tell you that we are having a party tomorrow night. I wanted to welcome all of the fighters and give them a chance to destress before the fight.”
“It sounds like a great idea. Will everybody in the palace be there?”
“I hope so. I’ll have a suit sent up to your room. According to our calculations, Thanos should be here in two days.”
“And those are accurate?”
“Shuri doesn’t make mistakes,” T’challa said in a tone that left no room for further questions on the matter. Steve wanted to ask who Shuri was but decided to leave it alone. “I’m having some of our scientists make a suit for you. It’ll be a little more high tech and more appropriate for the occasion than the stars and stripes.”
“Thank you.”
“I’ll have dinner sent up tonight. Most of your fellow teammates have opted to eat dinner in their rooms.”
“What information can you give me on Y/N?”
“I’m afraid it’s not my place.”
“Please,” Steve begged, employing his best puppy eyes.
“I should be going,” T’challa said, before leaving the room abruptly.
Dinner was sent up shortly after. It was a cheeseburger and fries, and probably the best that Steve had ever had. It reminded him of going out for lunch with Bucky after some of his less damaging fights, or going to Coney Island with girls that he only met two hours prior, but swore that he was going to marry. Steve missed back when things were simpler. After a while, the sky outside got dark, and Steve figured he should turn in early. The next couple of days were going to be rough, and he had better prepare the best that he could.
…
The next morning, Steve was woken up by blinding sunlight streaming through his window. He sat up in his bed and heard a voice coming from some hidden corner of his room.
“Good morning, Captain Rogers. The king would like to see you in the training lab at your earliest convenience,” a kind sounding female voice said in a stiff British accent that let him know it was some AI talking.
“Uh… good morning. Can you please tell the kind that I’ll be there soon, and could I also get directions to the training lab, please?”
“Just take the elevator to the lowest level.”
“Thank you.”
Steve dressed himself quickly in joggers and one of the T-shirts in the drawers of the dresser in his room. Evidently, whoever had stocked that dresser knew of his fondness for tight fitting shirts. He hustled down the hall to the elevator, still marveling at how modern the palace was. When he stepped into the lab though, he was in a whole other world. There were a plethora of machines whizzing over his head. There were different projects scattered everywhere in various states of completion. Holograms were projected around the room, showing the blueprints for multiple machines. It was like Stark Labs but bigger and even more high tech. He could hear a loud whirring coming from one corner of the room. He followed his ear in the direction of the noise to find T’challa watching a young woman hunched over a piece of metal that she was soldering.
“Hello,” Steve said as he walked up,not wanting to startle the girl wielding a glorified cauterizing knife.
“Ah, Captain Rogers, it is good to see you. This is my sister Shuri. She has been working on the suit for you.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Princess,” Steve bowed his head in respect.
“Shuri is fine,” she replied, finally looking up from her work.
“As long as you call me Steve.”
“Deal.”
“So what’s the deal on this new suit?”
“It’s over here. Follow me,” Shuri said as she started walking to the opposite side of the lab. “Your new suit will harness kinetic energy, same as my brother’s. It’s also a little darker and more appropriate for the solemnity of what’s to come, but heat reflective so that you won’t be burning up inside of it. It’ll be great if you ever decide to use it for stealth missions. The new suit will also be able to read and relay your vitals to the rest of your team, and of course, your new shields will be attached to the suit so you don’t have to worry about them getting lost on such a hectic battle field.
“That all sounds very impressive.”
“Shuri is the best we have, even better than your Stark,” T’challa cut in.
“I’m excited to see it, then.”
“Well, I’ll also need you to try it on. I used your measurements from the media about you, Dorito Man.”
“Is that what they call me?” Steve asked with a small chuckle “Yes, and it’s what your friend Natasha told me to call you when she helped me out with the guesstimating.”
“Of course she did.”
“She actually offered to help you test the suit out,” Shuri said as she stopped in front of a glass display case, containing a dark navy suit. Natasha stepped out from behind it with an impish grin on her face. “Hey, Cap.”
“Nat!” Steve exclaimed as he wrapped her in a tight hug. “I’ve missed you! Hey, I’ve been meaning to come find you and ask, how’s Y/N?”
“No, Steve.”
“C’mon Nat! Please!”
“Just put on the damn suit. Let’s get this over with,” Nat said, her voice laced with disdain. Shuri directed Steve behind a changing partition he requested, all the while insisting that it was nothing they hadn’t seen before. He emerged a few minutes later with his new suit on. It felt great and fit like a glove. “Stand on the line,” Natasha directed him, pointing to a tapeline on the floor. “I’m gonna hit you now,” and she did. She punched Steve as hard as he had ever seen her hit anyone, even their enemies, even HYDRA’s goonies.
“Jesus, Nat!”
“I said that I was going to hit you.”
“Not that hard!”
“Whatever. Now, run into that wall.”
“Why is Shuri recording?” Steve asked suspiciously. “Research purposes,” she answered simply, as she adjusted her tablet for a better angle. Steve did what he was told and ran into the wall. Immediately, he was blown back by some unseen force and knocked 20 feet onto his back. “That is so going viral!”
“What the hell was that?” he mustered out weakly over the sounds of everybody laughing with Nat being the loudest. “The kinetic energy in the suit,” Shuri answered. “I thought I warned you.”
“We all get revenge in different ways. I asked Shuri to help you test your suit. You forget, you left me too. Tell Sharon I say hi,” Nat said before walking out of the room proudly, still chuckling. “I think that I had better head back to my room now,” Steve said as he managed to rise to his feet. “See you tonight, Captain,” T’challa said as he attempted to stifle his laughs.
…
That night, Steve dressed himself in the suit that had been left at his door. It was a deep navy color that brought out the blue in his eyes. It was paired with a simple white shirt. Everything fit him perfectly like it had been tailor made for him, although he supposed it had been. He looked at himself anxiously in the mirror. He was afraid and excited. It was the first time that he would see you in 3 years. He didn’t know if he was ready. He started to walk downstairs, and he had to stop himself from running all the way to the main hall. He fiddled nervously with his cufflinks the entire way down in the elevator. When he reached the main hall, he realized how early he was. Only Natasha was there, standing behind the bar in a tailored white button down and black vest, fixing herself a drink.
“Hey,” Steve called out as he approached the bar. “Are we good after this morning?”
“Yeah, I just wanted to humiliate you.”
“I probably deserved it.”
“No, you definitely did. What are you drinking?”
“Do you have any of that Asgardian stuff from the last time that Thor was on Earth?”
“Ooh, starting off the night strong are we?”
“Well, I’m gonna see Y/N tonight.”
“Steve, are you sure that it’s a good idea to talk to her? She was messed up after you left, and now, she’s finally in a good place.”
“Why is everybody saying that? I love her! What aren’t you telling me?”
“Nothing,” Nat said, sounding tired, as she placed Steve’s drink in front of him. More people had filtered in at this point including Bucky. “Do you think that I should even try to talk to him?” Steve asked as he stared miserably at the bottom of his glass. “You’re best friends. It couldn’t hurt.”
“You didn’t see how mad he was yesterday.”
“I know how mad he got, and he had every right to do so, but Steve you’ve already lost him so many times. Don’t let it happen again.”
“I hate it when you’re right,” Steve said as he pushed away from the bar. “How are you doing?” he asked as he walked up to Bucky. “Worse, now that you’re here.”
“Are you kidding me? Why can’t we just be adults about this?”
“Last I checked, you haven’t acted like an adult in 3 years, if you ever did.”
“Are you really still this mad at me?”
“Are you really still a punk?” Bucky joked with a wink. “I missed you bud,” Steve said into Bucky’s hair as he enveloped him in a bruising hug, one that was returned with equal love this time. “I missed you too.”
Suddenly, Steve froze in Bucky’s arms. Bucky turned to see what had caused his friend’s sudden change, and saw you. You were making your way down the stairs into the ballroom, and you looked like a princess. Your hair had gotten longer since the last time Steve had seen you. It cascaded past your shoulders in soft curls. The dress you were wearing was champagne colored with a magnificent tulle skirt that belled out at your waist. The entire dress shimmered, giving you the illusion of having been showered in sparkles. You had reached the main floor and Steve saw your face light up when you caught sight of him.
“Hey!” you trilled as you completely overlooked Steve and flung yourself into Bucky’s arms. “Hey, Y/N. You look stunning,” Bucky stammered when he regained the ability to speak. “What the hell is going on here?” Steve asked incredulously. You whirled around and recognition flashed in your eyes as you backed father into Bucky’s chest and he wrapped his arms around you protectively. “Steve,” you gasped, the name falling from your lips like a forgotten prayer. “You- you can’t be here.”
“Really? Because the king personally reached out and asked for my help. Now does one of you care to explain?”
“You left,” you said defensively. “What are the two of you doing?”
“I thought you were gonna tell him,” you said to Bucky. “I needed more time. It’s not exactly something that you rush into when you see somebody for the first time in three years.”
“Tell me what?”
“Steve, let’s not. I mean, c’mon, we’re on good terms and besi-“ Bucky said, trying to soothe the situation, before Steve cut him off. “Screwing my girlfriend doesn’t exactly scream buddies!”
“That’s not fair,” you mumbled into Bucky’s chest, where you had turned and hidden your head. “What?” Steve asked, growing angrier by the minute. “That’s not fair, and you know it. You left me. I was devastated. Bucky was there for me, so excuse me for moving on!” you shouted as you whirled back around.” “I didn’t…”
“Didn’t what? Leave me? So then what do you call running off to Europe for three years without a word?”
“You don’t understand. I had to,” Steve said quietly with his head hung low like a puppy with his tail tucked between his legs. “Oh, so you were held at gunpoint? Were you forced to leave without saying goodbye?”
“Well, no, but-“
“Because the way I heard it,” you continued overtop of Steve’s protests. “Sharon wanted nothing to do with you after that crappy kiss, so she hopped around Europe for three years, trying to escape you, while you attempted to interrogate her about her dead aunt.”
“She kissed me.”
“I don’t want to hear your excuses Steve!”
“Aren’t you going to say anything?” Steve asked Bucky who now was standing a couple of steps behind you. “I think she’s got it covered.”
“You have no right to have any opinion about Bucky and I’s relationship. You shouldn’t even be here.”
“Y/N…”
“You can’t claim me as your property, Steve, not when you threw me away like a piece of trash.”
“Please.”
“I hope she was worth it,” you spat, before walking away and taking Bucky with you.
