#40's steve rogers

[lokiobsesser]

boy in the bubble by alec benjamin is literally 40's steve rogers

the song is literally about him, getting beat up and stuff and not being able to fight back?!?!? literally steve

[thwackk]

REAAAGHHHHHH‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️

[riricitaa]

we'll always have London ...

[marvel-lous-guy]

Tony: I don't have favourites!

Clint: How come Spiderkid has an allowance then?

Sam: Hey! How come I don't get an allowance!?

Bucky: Because you get paid to do this birdbrain, you don't need allowance

Scott: I don't get paid, how come I don't get allowance?

Nat: Are you even an Avenger?

Steve: Peter gets allowance!? I have to pay rent to stay here!

Tony: thats because I don't like you

Bucky: Hey, I also have to pay to be here, does anyone else pay?

Tony: thats a swear jar. There's a difference

[urdepressedslut]

The Girl and Her Golden Boys

⇨ Chapter One: The Bells

♡ Pairing: 40’s!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader, 40’s!Platonic!Pre-Serum!Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader

♡ Chapter Summary: You find yourself back in your hometown, unfortunately it’s for the passing of Sarah Rogers. You meet up with your boys, as it’s been awhile since you’ve last seen them.

♡ Chapter Warnings: angst, fluff, mentions of parent death

Italics are flashbacks

You hadn’t gotten through a full year of Boarding School, when you had heard Sarah Rogers had passed. Growing up she had raised you when your Father was absent, which was a lot of the time. She became the Mother figure you needed, being a girl and all, it was important to have a woman guide you. Hearing that she had passed was devastating, feeling like you were losing your true Mother all over again.

Your Father had picked you up, and the two of you were now headed to the funeral. Silence filled the car, not many words ever spoken between him and you, that’s just how things were after your Mom had died. The usual tension that came with the silence, wasn’t noticed by you, as your mind swirled with thoughts. Specifically, Steve Rogers.

Your heart ached for him, knowing how badly he must be hurting. Losing a parent was a bond being torn, and no matter the years gone by, you will always wonder if they’ll come back. If maybe, just maybe— that bond will amble.

You knew it was vital that you be here for Steve, knowing what it like to lose a parent, you would try and make sure he didn’t lose himself like you did.

Steve was your first friend in school. Fourth grade, you remember a tiny boy tripping through the doorway of your school, his books flying everywhere, pages folding unnaturally.

☆

You were quick to collect his books, and help him back to his feet, pulling him to the side to dust off his now dirtied pants. He was slightly embarrassed, watching you clean him off like his mother would. You on the other hand, didn’t realize you were crossing a line, instead acted out of pure instinct.

“T-thanks… My shoes are a little too big. Hard to walk in them sometimes.” He told you bashfully.

“That’s okay, you’ll grow into them eventually,” You assured him, sticking out your hand, “I’m (Y/n)!”

Steve smiled at your kindness, grabbing your hand with a shake.

“I’m Steve, happy to meet someone nice on the first day of school.”

“I know it’s scary, but you’ve got me now! I promise I won’t let you trip… Again.” You declared, handing him his books back, all stacked nicely.

Steve giggled and smiled, excited that he had found a friend.

☆

Steve had become more of a brother to you as you two had grown. Although you two didn’t get along as well as you first did, you two still loved each other and would never go to bed angry. At least, that’s what Sarah would tell us.

The car halted to a stop, alerting you that you had arrived at the cemetery. Knots formed in your stomach suddenly, Sarah’s passing fully hitting you now. You wanted to stay strong for Steve, you didn’t want him to see you upset. You wanted the focus to stay on Steve, he was the one who deserved all the love today. But the closer you were getting to the group of sniffling people, your walls started to crumble.

You scanned the small crowd, spotting Steve standing next to Bucky. You had a good assumption Buck was trying to convince Steve to stay with him and his family, but Steve being stubborn, you knew that was going to be war.

You smiled at the closeness of the two, the brother bond always warming your heart. Steve needs someone like Bucky, and Bucky needs Steve just as much.

Before you were away at Boarding School, you were here with the boys. It was you three versus the world, going on adventures, getting in trouble, and sometimes getting hurt together. You didn’t care what mess you got yourselves into, as long as it was one of them that was putting the bandaid on.

Quietly letting your Father know you were headed over to the boys, you walked silently, keeping your head down, trying to swallow down the lump forming in your throat.

You stopped some feet away, glancing at the both of their glum faces. You started towards Steve first, not saying a word as you embraced him in a tight, needed hug. Steve closed his eyes, relishing in your comforting embrace that he had missed so much. He patted your back appreciatively, both of you stepping away from each other.

“Let me guess, you’re here to say you’re sorry for my loss too.” Steve mumbled sarcastically, his eyes vacant and unfocused.

Frowning at his words, you fiddled with the ends of your dress, and cleared your throat.

“I don’t think anything I say is going to make you feel better right now. I’m here because my friend needs me, that’s it.” You explained softly, watching his eyebrows raise slightly in appreciation.

Steve opened his mouth to respond but his eyes went dull again, and he closed it. Attempting to blink away the oncoming tears, he excused himself, choosing to stand farther away to give himself a moment.

You watched with worried eyes, not wanting to let him walk away, but knowing that he needs time to himself.

“You being here means the world to him, ya know.” Bucky spoke finally, breaking your gaze from Steve. You met his eyes and forced a smile, walking towards him slowly.

He opened his arms, caging you in his protective embrace. You looped your arms around his lower back, pulling him closer, if that was even possible. Your face was smushed into his chest, but it didn’t stop your eyes from tearing up, your nose burning.

“I’m trying to be strong for him but… It’s h-hard.” You whimpered out, your voice wavering by the end.

Bucky rubbed your back soothingly with one hand, while the other cradled the back of your head.

“I know Doll, I know. You can let it out.” He whispered, holding you tight as your body shook with quiet sobs.

Bucky always had this this effect on you, he was able to bring your guard down. You blamed it on the fact that his embrace always felt so safe, always feeling like it was just you and him. Bucky was the oldest and protected you and Steve growing up, of course you saw him as a hero. But you knew there was something deeper to the connection, but you never spoke up about it. You valued the friendship too much to risk putting your feelings out there.

Your sobs died down, just as quick as they had started. Bucky’s aura alone, making you feel better.

“Thank you Buck.” You mumbled into his chest, and he chuckled.

“No need, you know I’m always here for you.” He told you, making you lift your face from his chest to meet his gaze.

“I know.” You whispered, smushing your face back into his chest, wishing you could stay here forever.

Approaching footsteps got both you and Bucky’s attention. Glancing to the direction where they came from, Steve was walking back, wiping his eyes dry.

Breaking apart from Bucky, you focused back on Steve.

“Hey Stevie, ya ready?” You asked him softly.

Steve knew you were talking about the burial, which he didn’t feel he’d ever be ready. But he glanced to you, then to Bucky and he felt safe. He wasn’t alone, he had his family right here.

“I guess.” Steve muttered, starting to walk but slowed his pace when he felt you intertwine your fingers through his.

You and Steve were hand in hand, when suddenly you felt your right hand being laced with Bucky’s fingers. Glancing over to him, you met his soft eyes, and you felt your cheeks heat up.

Steve watched from the far left as you and Bucky gazed into each others eyes for a split second, and for the first time today, Steve smiled.

The three of you all made your way to the small crowd, holding hands, keeping each other grounded.

As long as you had each other, everything was going to be okay.

A/N: 40’s buck and steve hold such a special place in my heart and i felt i had to start a series set in the 40’s. a lot of this series i want to be domestic stuff, but eventually it will be full of drama and hydra EWW. i’m excited to see where this might go, let me know what you think🤍

[nekoannie-chan]

Dance practice

Title: Dance practice.

Ship: Steve Rogers X Reader.

Word count: 319 words.

Square: N1 “Ballroom.”

Rating: Teen.

Summary: You and Steve practice how to dance.

Major Tags: Dance practice.

Additional tags: This my entry to @cabottombingo Captain Bottom Bingo round 2. CABB2024.

Links: Wattpad, Ao3, Spanish version.

@saiyanprincessswanie

My native language is Spanish so I wanna improve my writing skills in English if you notice any mistakes, please let me know and I will correct them.

I don’t give any kind of permission that my fics to be posted on other platforms or languages (I translate myself my work) or the use of my graphics (my dividers are included in this), I did them exclusively for my fics, please respect my work and don't steal it. There are some people here who make dividers that anyone can use, mine is not this type, please look for the other's people. The only exception is the ones I gifted 'cuz now belong to someone else. If you find any of my works on a different platform and are not one of my accounts, please let me know. Reblogs and comments are always welcome.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Marvel's characters (unfortunately), except for the original characters and the story.

Add yourself to my taglist here.

My other media where I publish:  Ao3, Wattpad, ffnet, TikTok, Instagram, Twitter. 

If you like it, please vote, comment, and give me feedback to improve my skills and reblog.

Tags: @sinceimetyou @unnuevosoltransformalarealidad @navybrat817 @angrythingstarlight @shield-agent78 @charmed-asylum @pandaxnienke @real-fbi @smokeandnailz @white-wolf1940 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @xoxonotme @bluemusickid @leyannrae @harrysthiccthighsss @marvelatthisonee @caplanbuckybarness @sapphire-rogerss @lizzieolseniskinda @notyourtypicalrose @hallecarey1 @nana1000night @talia-rumlow @writingshae @alexxavicry @azulatodoryuga @daemonslittlebitch @chaoticcollectivenightmare @endlesstwanted @chemtrails-club  @marigoldreamer @whiskeytangofoxtrot5555 @here4thefanfics @theestorm @patzammit @kmc1989 @somegirlfromasgard

Steve Rogers was stunned by the decision you made; you had accepted the invitation to attend a night of ballroom dancing.

It wasn't something he expected, but after all, what could go wrong? You had decided that you needed to improve your skills on the dance floor before the big event. Now Steve felt he was facing the most difficult mission of his entire life: learning to dance with grace and style.

You and Steve found yourselves in a small ballroom, with mirrors lining the walls and soft music in the background, inviting romance. Steve scratched his head nervously as you smiled knowingly.

"Steve, this will be a piece of cake. We just need coordination and a little practice," you said, taking Steve's hand.

You both got into position, waiting for instructions from the dance teacher, who was watching you from across the room. You moved gracefully, as if you had been dancing for years, while Steve looked a little awkward at first.

"Relax, Steve. Let the music guide you," you advised, moving to the melody.

After a few moments, Steve began to feel more comfortable. He followed your instructions and let himself be carried along by the gentle beat of the music. Soon, you were twirling and gliding across the floor with an elegance that surprised Steve to no end; he had never managed to dance like that before.

The dance teacher approached you. "Good, good! You're progressing fast. Now, let's try something a little more complicated," he suggested.

You smiled, ready for the next challenge, while Steve nodded, unconvinced. The teacher began to teach them more elaborate steps and moves that required more synchronization.

As you danced, Steve couldn't help but be amazed at your skill on the dance floor.

After several hours of intense practice, you had done it and were ready.

The night of the party finally arrived, and you surprised everyone with your dancing.

[sunflowersoldat]

Bring You Home Master List

Y/N travels back in time to get Steve’s help for one last mission, but not everything goes as planned.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader, Winter soldier x reader, 40's Bucky x reader

Series warnings : bad language words, light smut, violence, death. Read the chapter warnings :)

Main Master List

Bucky Barnes Master List

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Nightmares

Before we go

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

Part 11 (ending)

Damage control

[annmariethrush]

Rooting for characters to be good for good’s sake is boring. I’m real so I have to be good for good’s sake which is okay, but fuck if I need my characters in made up realities that don’t exist to be good even when the world is bad to them or they have the opportunity to be more interesting as monsters or tyrants or just straight up assholes. Ship people who are toxic. Fuck monsters. Kill people. Have fun. It’s fiction, that’s the point. Do what you have to do to be a good person in the real world who doesn’t do shitty things to other people or support people who do shitty things.

[beautifulbuckys]

Rumor Has It (40′s!Bucky Barnes x Reader)

FIC PINTEREST BOARD

Summary: As a local bartender, you’d heard a thing or two about James Barnes. 

Warnings: Nazi mention, war mentions, a little bit of language

A/N: AHHHH tiktok gave me some of this dialogue and I nEEDED to write with it!

You’d heard about James Barnes.

He was a legend in your line of work. Rumor had it that he’d been to every lounge in Brooklyn. Many bartenders had spoken of serving him and the lady he’d selected for the evening. A lounge was his go-to date spot. We played music, served drinks, and had a pleasant atmosphere. The lounges in the area were always dark and easy to hide in. He’s courted a lot of different women. God forbid a past girl catches him with his newest woman. It hasn’t happened yet, so you’ve heard. 

However, you have never met him. He has yet to stop by your lounge. He has yet to bring a date. You can’t blame him, your location was on the edge of town and kind of hard to get to. The narrow, unlit roads were daunting to those looking for a good time. A dark alleyway didn’t exactly scream ‘come visit!’. 

The fact that he had been in the army didn’t exactly help. His long stint of courting a randomized girl every night got interrupted when America involved itself in the war. He was quickly shipped off, practically disappearing. His existence was ghost-like. Many mentioned him, both men and women alike. The gentlemen he’d done laboring with during long, grueling New York summers were speaking of him like an old friend. His name seemed like a memory on some of the female bar-goer’s lips. It seemed like he had never left. Even though you had never met him, all the stories you’d heard made it seem like you did. Many customers you met had known him. Simply, it became obvious he befriended a lot of people in the area. Nobody you’d met had something negative to say about the man. Since he left for war, many who stayed behind gained more respect for him. 

Rumor has it he’s back. 

Tuesday afternoon you were working a shift for a sick bartender when someone uttered interesting words. 

“Bucky and Steve are back, they’re going on some victory tour or something. I heard Rogers got handsome while overseas, apparently, all the women in Europe have been swooning. My husband wrote me all about it!” A young woman sitting across the bar whisper-yelled. She couldn’t disguise her excitement for the news. However, it was hard to tell what she was more excited about, whether James and Steve are home or her husband had sent a letter. 

You’d seen pictures of James. You could admit, he was an attractive man. You totally understood why he had women at his feet left and right. Usually, though, that meant they had an ego. You already dealt with that during your shifts at the lounge. You didn’t have time to entertain a cocky man that found himself to be king of the world. It just wasn’t in the cards. 

As the afternoon melted into the evening, the lounge became a bit busier. Typically, Friday through Sunday was the busy days. Every now and again, it would pick up a little during the weekdays. However, this wasn’t a “picking up on a Tuesday” kind of busy. Something was going on, you thought. And then it all made sense.

James Barnes had waltzed into the creaky wooden door. He was wearing his brown Army uniform. A tan cap covered his brown hair, which has gotten a little longer since the most recent picture you’d seen. He also looked tired, the bottom of his eyes had sunken in and his eyelids were now permanently half-lidded. He didn’t look an ounce less handsome, though. 

The moment he walked through the door, the volume of the lounge increased dramatically. Every single customer that could stand on their own two feet was loudly welcoming the solider home. James received many pats on the back from men playing billiards; who seemed to respect him for her service. He also had been on the receiving end of many hugs from women old to young. His grateful smile never faltered. He spoke to everyone that gave him the time of day. Never once did he seem annoyed or appalled at the sudden attention. All eyes were on him. Yet, he never shied away. He seemed like the same man you’d heard stories about.

Once he could get away from the welcome wagon, he dragged his feet towards the bar. The farther he got away from the crowd, the more his smile fell. If he was an actor, that would’ve been an award-winning performance. 

“Sergeant Barnes, you’re shorter than I anticipated,” You said once he reached the bartop. Now that he was closer, you noticed the small cuts and scabs littered his face. The bridge of his nose housed a nasty gash, which was obvious from a puffy scar that now replaced it.

 His tired eyes locked with yours, smiling at you. “That’s no way to welcome home a soldier,” His Brooklynn accent came poking through. It was thick, something that you’d mock to your friends the next time you see them.

“I’m afraid we’ve never met,” 

“I’d remember if we did. I’d never forget a face like that,”

“Is that what you say to all the girls?” His mouth opened, then closed, then opened again. You’d rendered the quippy James Barnes speechless. Not many can say that based on the tales you’d heard. From the stories, you could tell he was part of the talkative bunch. He had a reputation to talk anyone’s ear off if he was given the chance. “What can I get you, James?”

He chuckled, sitting at a barstool. “Please, call my Bucky,” 

“That’s not what I asked you,” 

“Bourbon,” 

You smile, “You like your gums feeling tingly?” You proceeded to carefully pour him some of the house bourbon, choosing to pour it into a short glass. It was wider than a shot glass, but a similar height. It was perfect for his larger hands to hold. He wouldn’t be able to drop it unless he did so purposefully. 

Bucky took the glass as you slid it across the counter and instantly took a sip. After swallowing, he exhaled loudly. “You know, you’re the first person to not kiss my ass since getting home,”

“That’s not very gentleman-like language, Barnes,” 

“Well I am a soldier, never claimed to have the mouth of an angel,” 

You decided to leave him alone for a moment, choosing to tend to the other customers at the bar. You’d poured a few refills of water or whiskey, and made a few martinis. Every now and again, you’d steal a glance at James. He sat on his barstool in his lonesome. In fact, it’s the first time you’ve ever heard nor seen the man alone in a place like this. He always brought a date. His elbows laid on the stained bartop, leaning into his arms. He seemed slightly tired, more reserved than the James you’d always heard of. Besides his arrival, you hadn’t seen him speak to anyone. A few people tried to spark some conversation. Their attempts always consisted of questions about the war or his friend Steve Rogers. 

You’d heard rumors about Steve Rogers too. 

Steve and James were a package plan. You couldn’t get one without also getting the other. Since they were young, they’d been attached at the hip. Steve had a dream of joining the army when the war began. His father was a soldier, and he wanted nothing more than to follow in those footsteps. However, he was skinny and sick. He got denied time and time again. When Bucky left, it was difficult for him. Not soon after, Steve was getting escorted by military officials around the city of New York. Many figured he finally got caught lying on his enlistment forms. Then one day, he’s in the paper 150 pounds heavier and with more muscle than you had seen in your entire life. 

And now the man is a war hero. He’s a symbol of an American victory. 

And James Barnes is still just James Barnes. Suddenly the outgoing, all eyes on him, ladies man was cowering behind the shadow of his best friend. Since they got home, he’d been avoiding all questions about Steve. Avoiding any Captain America-related questions. 

“Pretty damn quiet over here, Barnes,” You mutter, leaning onto the bartop. He flashes a small smile your way, sitting up at your presence. 

“Not much people want to talk about besides killing nazis. I’m kind of tired of acting like some hero, though. I’m not this high and mighty guy everyone acts like I am. The only difference between me and them is the uniform. I’m no hero, I’m just a man in a tan uniform acting like something I’m not,” Bucky spoke quietly, staring at his hands that were folded in front of him. His small smile had turned into a sad one, reflecting his tone of voice. 

“Incredibly untrue, Sargent. See Tommy over there? The one with the red billiards stick. His Momma forced him to enlist. He lied on his forms and said he had asthma and a past with pneumonia so he wouldn't get through. Then he went back and told his Momma they rejected him so he couldn’t fight. He really just wanted to stay behind and keep smokin’ those damn cigars with his pals,” The story you told was true. It was again, just a rumor you’d heard, but once you served his sister a few too many imported wine glasses and she got to talking. By 10 p.m you knew all the family’s deepest darkest secrets. You’d never tell them, though. Unless, of course, it was to cheer up a handsome pouty soldier on a Tuesday night. 

“Is that true?”

“Truer than the sky being blue,” You held out your pinky to the man, suggesting a pinky promise. He held out his finger with a smile, wrapping his around yours enthusiastically. “There is a difference between you and him. He didn’t want to fight because he was selfish. You fought and saved a hell of a lot of people in the process. You have a good heart, James. Don’t undervalue yourself,” 

His sad smile was long gone, a simple memory. His laugh replaced his once somber, hushed voice. 

“You feel like an old friend,” 

“A lot of people say that when I give them booze,” You manage to laugh. He laughs right along with you. When he laughs, his eyebrows raise up and cause some wrinkles on his forehead. His hairline seems to raise up along with his brows which is entertaining to watch. 

He smiles, “Not like that. I feel like I’ve known you. I know I’ve never met you as I said, I’d never forget a face like that. You just seem so familiar. Like I’ve known you for a lifetime and then some,” 

“Are you calling me old, Barnes?”

“I’d never dare to talk about a beautiful dames age!” James chuckled at your insinuation. He knew you were joking, it was obvious that it was just how you were. He could tell you had thick skin by the banter you kept up. 

“With all this talk about my looks, I’m starting to think I’m the next on the  ‘girl’s I’d like to take dancing’ list,” You joked. Without him even asking, you decided to pour him more of his drink. Usually, you’d have to charge for a refill. Hell, you forgot to even charge him for the first drink. Yet, he’s a soldier returning home. If your manager gave you hell for it, you’d explain the special circumstance. 

All the rumors you’d heard of this man seemed to be drifting away. You’d been told gossip; not truths. This man wasn’t just some womanizer with no regard for feelings. James Barnes was far from a man that didn’t believe love existed, only beauty. James Barnes wanted to be loved. He didn’t want to be held on a pedestal for all to worship and speak about. He wanted his flaws to be just as cherished as his perfections. 

“I can add you to the list if you’d like. You would be the only occupant and I’m willing to take you dancing as soon as possible,” 

“See you tomorrow at 6?” You took the bait. The more you two talked, the more interested in him you became. He bantered back and forth with you and didn’t get offended at your silly comments. He never once made an offensive comment towards you, which was something you were used to as a bartender. And it would be a crime not to take note of his beautiful eyes and charming smile. 

He smiled.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,”

And to think, a few rumors was the start of this all.

[anonymityisfunwriter]

The Fate's Design

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Rogers!Reader Summary: Flower, gleam and glow, let your powers shine Make the clock reverse, bring back what once was mine Heal what has been hurt Change the fates' design Save what has been lost Bring back what once was mine, what once was mine...

"I know you," Wanda whispers, eyes narrowing at the former Winter Soldier.

"How? How do you know him?" Steve questions.

Wanda turns to Steve and her head turns in confusion mixed with vague recognition. She shuts her eyes and tries to remember the flickers of your memories. Her eyes whirl open and Steve is no longer just Steve.

She's never put the two together, but Steve's face is still the same as it was in the 1940's.

"I don't - I don't understand. How?"

"How, what, Wanda?" Steve asks, a hint of urgency in his question. 

"How do you think you know me?" Bucky simultaneously demands.

"Perhaps we give her a moment?" Vision suggests, a worried expression painting his face as he watches Wanda's face contort trying to reason whatever she'd just recognized. 

"I never realized before." She looks to Steve. And she's right, he's not just Steve anymore. It's almost like she unlocked a new, deeper understanding of Steve Rogers. "Your face. It's still the same."

"My face? Wanda, please, just try to explain," Steve gently urges. 

"I don't know her name. She knew you two. She knew you well," she explains, her eyes flickering to meet Bucky's hardened stare.

"Who?" Bucky quietly seethes, his fist clenching under Wanda's scrutiny.

"I don't know her name."

Her name, is all Steve hears.

Despite finding and getting Bucky back, Steve's refused to hope that you'd come back too. That wasn't how the world worked, he couldn't have two miracles.

It wouldn't happen.

Just because he lost you two in the same place didn't mean you'd both get to come back. He refused to believe, to let that hope rise in his chest. But for one short second, his will power breaks and he's hoping again.

"Wait here," he commands, before quickly rising out of his seat and wordlessly bolting to his room.

He takes a deep breath as he opens his door and immediately looks to the box underneath his desk. He feels an immense guilt that the only commemoration of your life resided in a small box gathering dust in his room. Not even Bucky knew about the box.

He was to blame for the world not knowing about you, for there not being anything to honor the amazing life you'd lived.

He gently dusts the lid before carefully opening the box. There's a frame at the very top - the last picture of you he recovered, also the last one you'd ever taken. There weren't many things that survived once he went into the ice, and even fewer photographs. Most of you and Steve together. Some with Bucky. And a few alone.

In spite of all the guilt and sorrow, he smiles thinking about you.

--

You're standing in an alley, pressed against the exposed brick wall by a man you were speaking to in the diner.

The man approached you inside and showered you in uncomfortable, borderline inappropriate compliments and talked to you for quite some time. You were really just trying to be nice, but the man was clearly not taking the hint that you just weren't interested. Not as you try walking away. Not as you subtly push his hand away from you for the dozenth time. Not in the tight smile he keeps asking to see. 

You worked at the diner a few times a weeks to earn some money to keep you and Steve afloat. Keeping that in mind, you kept a smile on your face and held your tongue, only because you really didn't want to lose this job knowing how hard a decent job was to come by. And that Steve was already working harder than he should trying to keep you two comfortable.

While the man was still talking your ear off, you were just hoping Steve wouldn't take much longer. 

But the longer you waited, the more forward the man became.

A little too forward for your taste.

So you excused yourself, saying that you needed to go home. Still the man persevered, offering you his arm to walk you home. You politely declined, but he just kept forcefully insisting. You caved, figuring you'd just leave him at some random address or apartment building.

You're only a few steps into your walk, but the man wastes no time before pulling you into the alley right next to the diner. 

With a nervous chuckle, you try to pull away. To deescalate while getting as far away from this man as possible. 

One hand right by your head, the other tightly gripping your waist. His hand bunches around the fabric of your skirt, incrementally lifting it.

You slap his hand away, but then he wraps his hand around your wrist. His hot breath is in your ear whispering how he knows how much you want him, that you can drop the act. It sends an unpleasant shiver down your spine.

Your head recoils as his mouth tries to catch yours. You turn to see your brother squinting his eyes trying to see who's in the alley, the man's lips falling on your cheek instead. Steve calls your name in recognition. "I'm fine, Stevie. Go back inside."

The man's grip tightens again bringing your attention back to him. "Now, where were we?"

"You were about to let me go," you grit, feeling entirely fed up.

The man predatorily strokes your face, his other hand going for the waistband of your skirt. "Come on, I see you the guys you hang around. Can't I get some of that?"

Before you can think, you're striking him across the face, "How dare you? Let me go."

Now, his hold on your arm has turned into a furious death grip. He seethes, "You bitch."

You hear Steve call your name again. You turn to your brother who's now making his way down the alley, fist clenched. You shake your head and with your free hand you wave him away. "I can handle this, Stevie. Go back inside."

The man's grip on your wrist tightens again, this time you can't help the wince that leaves your mouth. Steve doesn't miss that. "You heard the lady. Beat it."

Steve puts his hand on the man's shoulder, trying and failing to shove him away from you. "I think you need to let my sister go."

"Stevie, don't. I'll be fine."

But he doesn't listen and you already know how this is going to go. You've seen this dozens of times, tended to Steve's wounds from fights he refused to back down from.

An involuntary scream rips from your throat when you see the man's fist viciously connect with Steve's face. You're trying to separate the two, but the man roughly shoves you out of the way. This only spurs Steve on.

You hit the wall, but the second you recover you're back up trying to pull the man away from your brother. You're almost successfully between them when you see him running down the alley.

Like all those times before, he's saving Steve from another fight.

You see Bucky's fist fly at the man, though this time the man backs down. Bucky's yelling all kinds of warning and threats as the man runs away. Bucky turns to the two of you, an unamused and disapproving look on his face.

Steve wipes the blood away from his mouth and nose, "I had that."

"You know, sometimes I think you like getting in fights," Bucky quips, ignoring Steve's comment.

"He was being disrespectful. I couldn't just let him talk to my sister like that. You should've seen how he was grabbing at her," Steve grumbles.

"If I would've, I wouldn't have let him walk so easily," Bucky assures him, his eyes briefly flickering to you.

"It's my job to protect my little sister," Steve stubbornly insists. 

"I told you I had it," you scold, ignoring Bucky entirely.

"He was hurting you," Steve argues. "I saw him."

"Are you hurt, Doll?"

You ignore Bucky's question, shaking your head at Steve. At his willingness to defend you in fights he knows he can't win. All for the sake of protecting you. 

Bucky looks at you up and down, trying to discern if he needs to go after that guy and really lay into him. You're not hurt, not really. Your wrist will probably be a little sore tomorrow, but except for your dirty dress, you're thankfully unscathed.

Still, Bucky sees the way you're holding your wrist, he gently takes your hand and inspects it. "That's why I smacked him. There's no need for you to defend my honor, Stevie. I'm perfectly capable of that myself. The next shot was in between the legs."

"Remind me not to disrespect you," Bucky exhales forcefully, his eyes playfully wide.

His hold on your wrist is hard to ignore, and it's even harder to ignore the gently sweet kiss he presses on your wrist's pulse point.

You roll your eyes and pull your hand away from him, ignoring the way it made your heart race.

Bucky's always flirted with you, always. Most of the time you playfully flirted back, not knowing if he was being serious or not. This was one of those times. You laugh as Bucky's arm wraps around your shoulder. "Don't they know not to mess with my girl. I already told you and most of Brooklyn that I'm going to marry you one day. Mark my words."

You just laugh him off. You don't believe that he's being serious and that this isn't just the smooth talker you've known your whole life. "And I told you not to make promises you can't keep."

"Oh, I intend to keep that promise. Even if I have to beat off all the men of Brooklyn-"

"And how many times have I told you two to stop flirting with each other?" Steve complains, placing himself in between you and Bucky. 

You roll your eyes. "He started it."

"I can finish it too," Bucky quips.

"Down, Bucky," you playfully order. "Before Steve tries to beat you up too."

Bucky simply laughs and the three of you start walking to your neighborhood.

By the time you make it to your doorstep, the adrenaline from Steve's fight has died down and it's comfortably silent as you make your way up the porch. You murmur a goodbye to Bucky who still wears a flirty grin on his face. You roll your eyes, and with a wink and a dramatic hand he blows you a kiss before you walk up the porch steps. 

In spite of his already swelling eye, Steve narrows his eyes in warning at Bucky, eliciting a breathy laugh from Bucky. 

You fish your key out of your bag and with a hand on Steve's shoulder, you guide him inside, "Come on, Stevie. I gotta get some ice on that eye before it swells any more."

"I told you to stop calling me that," he grumbles. "No one takes me seriously when you call me that."

"I'm sorry," you playfully sigh. "You'll just always be Stevie to me, my little big brother."

--

Steve carries your picture back to the table where everyone has a shared concerned look on their faces. Except for Bucky, who looks downright murderous.

His thoughts are similar to Steve, he can't bring himself to hope that you survived.

And if you did, and Wanda did know you, then your situation was probably no different than Bucky's. And honestly, he wasn't sure which was worse yet. But he did know that the latter caused those violent feelings to burn in his chest again.

"Who's that?" Nat asks, nudging her head toward the frame Steve tightly clutches. 

"My sister," Steve exhales, gently laying the frame down in front of Wanda. "Is this her?"

Wanda sharply inhales, though the picture is weathered and marred by age, she recognizes your face instantly. Her eyes water with guilt as she looks at the picture. "Yes."

"Hold the phone, you don't have a sister," Tony interjects.

"I do," Steve absently nods, his mind racing trying to process what any of this means. "She's only a few years younger, but that's her, my sister."

"How do we not know this? Surely, there is some record of her existing somewhere. If you had a sister, I'd know about it," Tony insists.

"You wouldn't actually," Steve remorsefully admits. "It wasn't safe for her. Things happened to her because people knew who she was. I had all records of her erased. Her memory lived and died because of me."

"She's beautiful," Nat comments, placing a hand on Steve's shoulder to comfort him. 

--

Bucky can't look away from your picture, it had been years since he'd seen your face. He didn't even know Steve had anything of you left, but the image still remained as vivid as ever. It still felt like just yesterday. "Most beautiful girl in all of Brooklyn."

"The expo was amazing," you comment, your arm interlocked with Bucky's as you walk through the dimly lit streets. "Though I am surprised you didn't bring a date."

"And what do you think you are?" Bucky teases. "What do I need another girl for when I've got the most beautiful girl in Brooklyn on my arm?"

"You hush before Stevie hears you," you laugh, knowing how badly your brother reacted to you and Bucky.

How many times he's lectured both you and Bucky about flirting with each other. And in spite of your assurances that you and Bucky were just teasing, Steve never quite accepted that. 

Bucky's playfully eyes widen, "Well, we don't want that now, do we? He's already threatened me about leading you on before I leave."

"Then what are you doing here?" you coyly ask.

"But I'm not leading you on. The second I come back I'm going to put a ring on the pretty little finger," he swears, gently grazing your ring finger.

"Are you now?" you ask with a teasing tone and an eyebrow raised.

"I am."

It's quiet for a moment, the two of you are just aimlessly walking the streets arm-in-arm. Steve's with the date that Bucky got for him, leaving the two of you alone for once.

And melancholy tugs at your heart as you think about how much you're going to miss him, even worse, it terrifies you to your core that he may not come back. "What's wrong, Doll?"

"Nothing," you lie, though you're not sure why you even bother when you two have known each other long enough to know when the other wasn't being honest. Bucky shoots you a knowing look. You and Bucky you're practically kindred spirits, twin flames. Though your friends would use the word soulmates. You stop walking and grab him by the lapels. He offers no resistance to lower himself and meet your eyes. "You just better come back to me, alright?"

He rests his hands on yours. "I will. Promise."

"I swear, James, if you don't - I will bring you back just to kill you all over again."

He leans down, pressing his forehead to yours, he whispers, "I will."

Your hands loosen on his lapels, but he doesn't move away from you.

It's like one of those sappy romance movies. Time has suddenly stopped. Your breaths are coming harder and you're moving closer so slowly that you're not even sure who's moving.

At first, your lips just gently graze his. He's not even really sure that you just kissed him. He reconciles that this is his last night, and while he makes these promises to you, there's no guarantees in this life. So he goes for it, takes what he's wanted his entire life. He crushes his lips to yours, willing you to feel every burning emotion with intense sincerity. His hands move to your waist, pulling you flush against him. Your hands move to the nape of his neck, pulling him even closer.

You know that this isn't smart, doing this the night before he leaves. You're risking tearing yourself apart, breaking your own heart into a million little pieces, and yet you don't care. Not for one second. You move so naturally against Bucky, and he's never felt more right than at this very moment.

It isn't until some drunks behind you start wolf-whistling at you two that you pull away.

"Alright, show's over," Bucky shouts to the drunks across the street, but then he turns back to you. His blue eyes glimmering with naive hope and wistful promises. You look at Bucky, who's shockingly just as breathless and flushed as you are. And honestly, it's nice to know you affect him as much as he does to you. "Well, now I definitely have to come back."

--

"I don't understand. You have a younger sister. You somehow got rid of all evidence that she existed. And somehow Wanda knows her?" Tony prompts, clearly frustrated at the lack of reasoning in this entire scenario that he's not quite convinced is real.

"Which brings us back to that, Wanda?"

"It's...complicated."

"Well, then figure it out," Bucky demands, his hand slamming down on the table.

Steve rests his hand on Bucky's shoulder trying to calm him down, but also trying to tame his own rage and self-loathing. "Wanda, please."

She shakily nods, staring at the frame still sitting in front of her. Taunting her. Punishing her. "I don't know when she arrived. She was simply there when my brother and I arrived. On the ice, like you," she nods to Bucky. "They didn't take her off very often. She was considered a failed experiment."

"Failed? Failed how?" Steve quickly questions.

"Failed by HYDRA standards," she corrects. "She couldn't fight like Pietro and I. They only let her out when she was absolutely needed."

"And what did they need her for?" Bucky grits, both his hands curling into fists from unbridled rage.

Wanda's nervous, explaining this next part will not be easy and she knows that she may not get forgiveness for what she'd done. "She was a healer. Only when someone important was hurt would they take her out. She healed my brother once."

The nervousness on Wanda's face leads Bucky to believe there's more, something else that she's not saying. "What else?"

Wanda's voice breaks, remembering the absolute agony she put you through. "They made me. I had no choice."

"Made you what?"

"I- I don't- It's hard to explain."

"What did you do to her?" Bucky snaps.

"She was useful to them. They just had to bend her to their will."

"To their will?" Bucky seethes.

"Wanda, it's okay. We just need to know what happened. We don't blame you," Steve gently assures her.

"Speak for yourself," Bucky angrily remarks.

"Not helping," Steve hisses, still holding down Bucky in his seat.

Tears flow down Wanda's cheeks as she explains. She's not sure what they did before she arrived, but they used Wanda to torture you, psychologically torture. She shudders remembering the first time she looked in your head. All the happy memories of Steve and Bucky. Some that were so locked away she couldn't justify trying to reach them. 

When Wanda arrived, you believed your brother was dead. And it wasn't long before Bucky escaped. When he escaped, they told you that he was dead and it was your fault. A punishment for even thinking about escaping. You swore you hadn't. You wouldn't dare. You begged and pleaded with them to try to bring him back. But they assured you that you couldn't fix him.

Wanda's job was simple: she'd project the image of Steve and Bucky in your head. Sometimes one, sometimes both. It was an elaborate lie they'd created. Steve and Bucky would run into your cell, they'd tell you they were there to rescue you. You'd cry, knowing it wasn't real. Then the image would turn hideous, Steve and Bucky would shout at you, scream and blame you for their deaths. You'd go back into the ice crying and pleading to see them, that you were sorry and you'd never try to escape again. Sometimes you'd just beg Wanda to kill you.

"Where is she?" Bucky demands, almost shooting up out of his seat.

"Barnes," Tony warns, jumping in to defend Wanda. "She wouldn't know that."

"You don't know what she knows. She kept this from us," Bucky accuses, holding back not an ounce of his vitriol. 

"I didn't know. Those aren't my memories. It's difficult to keep track of. I swear."

"Bucky, let's just take a breath. Okay?" Steve mutters under his breath. He knew this wouldn't be helpful, that this would not bring you back any faster. 

"Is she even alive?" Bucky asks, ignoring Steve and staring at Wanda with a murderous glare.

Wanda definitely nods once. "Yes. The last time I saw her she was alive."

Steve sees the way Bucky's heart is breaking all over again. It's the same look on his face the day you were kidnapped. The day you were killed. Steve pulls on Bucky's arm, guiding him away from the table. "Bucky, let's take a walk."

Bucky wrenches his arm from Steve's hold, "No, we need to find her."

"I'll get started on locating any bases. Just go take a breath," Tony instructs. 

This time when Steve pulls him away, Bucky reluctantly lets him. He staggers out of the building, the crisp fall air doing nothing to calm him down. They've trailed the entire path of the Compound and still neither of them have said anything, only allowing the quiet crunch of the gravel to fill the silence.

"I miss her too, you know," Steve says, finally breaking the silence.

"I've always wondered why it was me. Why I survived and she didn't."

"I've wondered that myself," Steve admits and Bucky shoots him an incredulous look. Steve chuckles, before clarifying, "I meant for myself. When I woke up, out of the ice. I wondered why it wasn't her. Why I got a second chance and she didn't. Or in the museum, why she didn't have anyone remembering her."

"She'd give you so much crap for that, man," Bucky reluctantly chortles.

"I know she would," Steve laughs. "There isn't another person in the world that gave me as much sass as she did."

"Stevie, her little big brother," Bucky playfully reminisces.

"Oh, please don't bring that into this century."

--

You were undoubtedly confused when you got the notice that you were being transferred. Not a single person could tell you why or how, or even about the team you were being transferred to.

You were a damned good medic, but you wouldn't say you were all that much better than any of the other volunteers. But for some reason, you were chosen for this allegedly super important team.

You agreed immediately.

You wanted to do whatever it took to help the men that were serving your country. Every man you helped, every life you helped saved, you imagined Steve and Bucky. You'd seen Steve the day the serum was administered, but now his time was scarce. You didn't even know where he was most of the time. And he told you even less. You had no clue where they were, what they were doing, if they were okay.

You were all but left behind. 

So when you showed up to your new assignment, you weren't quite sure why you were so surprised to see Steve and Bucky.

You'd been caught red-handed. Though you knew that theoretically you did nothing wrong, you also knew Steve wouldn't agree. You knew he'd be upset you didn't tell him, even more upset that you were involving yourself at all.

Steve had not a clue that you volunteered yourself as a medic, at least not until he caught wind of your name. It was a night where Steve and Bucky were drinking at a local bar, enjoying one of their very few nights off.

Then they heard another soldier vulgarly describing the medic that helped save their life, Steve guffawed, but said nothing. Until he heard your name. Steve jumped to defend your name with Bucky behind him to make sure Steve didn't do anything too stupid.

And the very next morning, he went to go find out everything possible about what you were up to.

"Hey, Stevie," you awkwardly wave when you walk into the building.

"Don't 'Hey, Stevie', me. What were you thinking?" he furiously demands.

"Did I do something wrong?" you question.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asks.

He sounds hurt. Hurt and concerned that you could've somehow gotten hurt. That if somehow someone found out that you were Captain America's little sister, there would be a target on your back.

"There was nothing to tell!" you insist, scoffing at his hypocrisy. "I didn't do anything different than you and Bucky, so why am I getting scolded like a child?"

"You're getting scolded like a child because you're acting like a child!"

"How?" you exclaim. "Because I wanted to do something other than twiddle my thumbs waiting for you two to come back?"

"You're getting scolded for lying!" Steve emphasizes.

"You're such a hypocrite, Steve. You didn't tell me about the experiment until the day before it was done," you point out, refusing to back down. "How is what I did any different?"

"Bucky, can you please back me up here?" Steve asks, an exasperated expression on his face.

Bucky's eyes bounce between you and Steve. He'd always hoped that no matter what this would never change. The dynamic the three of you had, the way you and Steve would endlessly bicker like children. The way you and Bucky bickered like an old married couple. Anyone else would think that the three of you hated each other, but the last few months only cemented how lost you three would be without the others."Come on, Steve. You can't ask me to go against my girl."

"Oh," one of the other men chime in, taking a step forward to greet you. "You're Bucky's girl? It's a good thing you're here then. He never shuts up about you."

And possibly for the first time in your life, you see Bucky get flustered. His cheeks slightly darken when he realizes the consequences of his big mouth.

You two have always tip-toed around your feelings. Except for when he kissed you the night that he left, you were never sure that the flirting was anything more than just talk.

Bucky knew that.

He liked to make you flustered, to keep you on your toes. But he'd always meant every word he said, even if you didn't know that. 

Since you two were children he knew that you were the one for him. Eventually the game of cat and mouse would end, but this moment was one he'd never planned for. Now, he was the one flustered, he was the mouse and that wry smirk on your face told him that you weren't going to let that go.

"Oh, is that right?" you tease. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name?"

"'Timothy," the man replies sticking out his hand to shake.

"No one calls you Timothy," Bucky scoffs, rolling his eyes. 

"Just beautiful women," the man easily replies, winking at you.

"Watch it," Bucky warns.

"Hey," Steve objects simultaneously.

You smirk at Bucky as you shake his hand. "Well, Timothy, what exactly has Sergeant Barnes' said about me?"

The man playfully scoffs, a mischievous grin on his face, "What hasn't he said? He tells us all the time, his girl is the most beautiful girl in New York. How he's always fighting off all the men of Brooklyn."

"All the men of Brooklyn? Really?" you sarcastically remark, your eyes flickering back to Bucky.

"Well, we didn't believe him until now. He told us that he's going to marry you the second he gets back home."

"Did he say that?" you ask, your eyes never leaving Bucky's.

Bucky finally steps in, pulling you away from him. "All right. That's enough."

"No, I want to hear more about this," you insist, a laugh bubbling out of your mouth as you step out of Bucky's grasp.

And then you realize you've gone too far, when he says, "He said you're the best kiss he's ever had."

You, Steve, and Bucky all freeze at the revelation. You and Bucky were never planning on telling Steve about that night, and if you ever did, it certainly wouldn't have been when Steve was already upset with you and definitely not from a person that wasn't you or Bucky. 

And like his pig-headedness and his physical features, his protectiveness over you increased tenfold.

"He said what?" Steve demands.

The man freezes, realizing the teasing is over now.

"Stevie, it's not a big deal," you insist, stepping in front of him.

The other man makes some offhanded remark about needing to go do something and briskly walks out of the room, sensing that this next moment isn't going to be pretty.

"You kissed my sister?" Steve booms, taking a large step toward Bucky.

"Stevie, it's fine," you insist. "I'm a big girl. I can make my own decisions."

Bucky isn't sure what he's supposed to do. He doesn't feel bad about kissing you. He thinks it one of the best decisions he's ever made.

But Steve has definitely never been this angry with him, and Steve's also never been able to actually beat him up. It puts him in a tough spot. 

Steve takes another large, anger-filled step toward Bucky, who looks prepared, if not a little scared, to take whatever Steve doles out. Before any fists start flying between the two friends, you're stepping between the two of them, preventing Steve from approaching Bucky.

"Steve," you say his full name. He stops, his eyes snapping down at you. You never use his real name, so when you do, he knows you're not playing around. "Stop it."

"We're not done with this conversation," he threatens, looking more at Bucky than at you.

"Sure, Stevie, whatever you say," you appease, rolling your ease. "Now let's get back to work. Or did you just drag me down here to yell at me?"

"Funny," he mocks. "You'll be with my team."

"Doing?" you ask with an eyebrow raised.

"Well, you're a volunteer medic, right?"

You sigh, your shoulders dropping when you realize Steve's overbearing, almost insulting, plan: to keep you in his sight at all times. "Don't you guys need a real doctor? With a fancy degree and all that?"

"We have one," Bucky interjects, still keeping one eye on Steve. "But we could use all hands on deck."

"You just keep your hands to yourself," Steve abruptly warns Bucky.

"Come on, Stevie," you plead, and with your best puppy-dog expression you nudge him with your shoulder. "My little big brother." 

"I'm literally taller than you," he exhales, putting his arm around your shoulders.

You jokingly tap the side of your temple. "It's in here that counts."

But you don't put up any more opposition, if only to appease Steve, who makes no attempt to hide his displeasure with Bucky the entire time you're helping his team. Mission after successful mission, you're there patching the men up.

Most of the time, it's Steve with a few minor cuts and scrapes. When you have to patch up Bucky, Steve watches the two of you like a hawk. He doesn't ever look away making sure that nothing untoward is happening between you two.

Each time you sigh at Steve and remind him that you are two grown adults in full control of their faculties, that you and Bucky aren't just going to lose all self control and attack each other.

Steve won't hear any of it.

It's a dramatic shift in your group dynamic. You and Bucky are never allowed to be alone together, you're barely given any time to talk to him at all. Steve's two primary focuses are keeping you two apart and serving his country and he does both with an unheard of gusto.

That is until Peggy Carter enters the room, then Steve turns back into your little big brother.

You like Peggy, being the only two women on the team brings you two pretty close together. In fact, the night before a new mission starts, the entire team goes out to a local bar. You and Peggy help each other get ready then walk arm-in-arm to the local dive bar.

You don't miss the way Steve stumbles standing up when he see Peggy. And Peggy doesn't miss the way Bucky does the same when he sees you.

And as if he's reverted back to his old self, Steve blushes and tells Peggy how nice she looks. Then he shyly offers her an arm to dance, and for the first time in months, he leaves you and Bucky alone.

"You know, he must really like her if he's willing to leave us alone together," you joke, watching Steve guide Peggy to the make-shift dance floor.

Bucky laughs, the first time you've heard him laugh in months. "He must."

"Better for us," you murmur.

"Hmm," he hums, a teasing grin on his face. "And why is that?"

"Maybe I want to hear more about what you're telling people about me," you counter, turning to face him with a smirk. 

He takes a long pull from his drink, trying to hide the growing grin and blush on his face. "You're never going to let that go. Are you?"

"Nope," you confirm.

He smoothly turns in his stool to face you. Your knees are touching, and you can feel his breath as he leans into you. "I already told you. The second we get home, you're gonna buy a white dress. And we're gonna go to the courthouse," he whispers in your ear. His breath tickles your neck, but you can't bring yourself to move away from him. "And I'm gonna put a ring on that finger. And everyone will know you're mine. All mine. And it's gonna be you and me. Forever."

You're breathless when he pulls away to take another long drink. You're back to being the mouse in this little game, though it doesn't feel like much of a game anymore. You resist the urge to clutch your heaving chest or fan your burning face. "You've just- you've got it all planned out?"

"Absolutely. You're never gonna go back to the diner. And I'm gonna buy us a nice house. A big house, have us a few kids. They'll be beautiful, just like their mother, the most beautiful woman in New York."

You lean closer to Bucky. At this point, you're pushing the boundary of public decency, but neither of you care all that much. You don't even care that at any moment Steve could turn his head and see the two of you.

This time there's no quick-witted remark or teasing comment you have to throw back at him. When you look at Bucky, you see promises. Real promises. And you believe him. "I can't wait."

He's so close that his breaths are now yours. And you don't see a hint of his charming or smooth-talking self. He means it this time. "Me either."

"Would you - would you like to walk me to my room?"

He nods silently. Without breaking his gaze, you grab your jacket while Bucky slaps some bills on the counter. He helps you put your jacket on, then holds his arm out for you.

The walk is silent, but charged with so much palpable tension between the two of you.

When you finally make it to the door, Bucky's watching as your shaking hands unlock the door. He hesitates at the door knowing that you're not just anybody. He wants to do this right, but mission after mission he's worried. Worried everyday about what comes next.

All he knows right now is that he's never going to love anyone the way he loves you. Never.

He slowly leans down and presses the sweetest, most gentle kiss to your lips. Your breath hitches as he takes another step forward, his hands find your waist as he leaves the doorway. When you shut the door, you shut out everything else.

And all that remains is the love you two share like a whispered oath destined to be lost to the fate's design.

--

Bucky keeps those memories on a loop as he enters the underground HYDRA post you're being held in. As he tears through the people keeping the two of you apart. As holds up a man in a lab coat and demands to know where you are. 

The man sputters directions and with anxiety-riddled hands, points to the a small concrete corridor. 

And then as he rams down the heavy steel door. 

And he's in. In the small, concrete room. And you sit there, not even paying him any attention. He calls your name. Once. Twice. Three times. 

You don't even look up at him before you spit, "Go to hell."

"What?" Bucky exhales in shock.

"I said, 'go to hell'," you seethe, bringing your knees to your chest to press yourself further into the corner of the room. "I know you're not real."

"Doll?"

"Stop it," you demand, slapping your hands over your ears. You chant to yourself, "You're not real."

He tries to pull your hands down, but they're clamped so tightly over your ears that he can't move them without hurting you. You're still tucked in the corner, practically rocking yourself back and forth. Your hands still over your ears, you sob, "I'm sorry, okay? Is that what you need to hear? I tried - I swear I tried, but they wouldn't let me see you. I couldn't save you."

"I'm right here, Doll. You don't need to save me."

"I know you're not real. You're dead. I know you're out there!" you call out to whatever cruel person is orchestrating this again. "I know he's gone! It won't work anymore."

"There's no one out there. It's just you and me."

"You're lying!" you shout, finally dropping your hands but still not making eye contact with him. It hurts too much. Every time you look in his eyes, it feels real. It feels like he's alive again. And every time you have to lose him. "You died. You're dead. Just leave me be - I promise I won't think about running again. I promise, just please stop."

Bucky's mind races, trying to figure out what he can say to make you believe that it's him. "We spent the night together - the night before Zola took you."

Your head snaps up. This was new. To your knowledge neither you nor Bucky ever told a soul about that night. You both swore to take that night to your graves, if only to avoid Bucky invoking Steve's wrath. "How do you know that? No one knows that."

He stares at your tired, defeated eyes, willing you to see his sincerity. "I know that because it's really me."

"I don't believe you."

"You're Steve Rogers' little sister," he continues. "I know about that one time when we were kids, you overheard some punk talking about jumping Steve in the alley after school. And you took your favorite hard cover and hit him right over the head. Then over and over until he promised he wouldn't mess with him anymore. I was the one that pulled you off of him and you got in trouble for cracking your book- all because you refused to tell anyone what really happened. I know you hate your middle name, but I'm the only person you told because it's a family name and you don't want to be disrespectful. It's me. It's Bucky."

You eyes widen at the stories. Stories you'd never told anyone. Stories you willed yourself to repress to keep them untainted and as pristine as the day you lived them. And maybe you were a fool, still filled with hopeless naivety, but you believed him. A helpless whimper leaves your mouth, "They told me you died."

"I'm not dead. I'm right here," he promises.

"It's really you?" you whisper.

"It's me. I promise."

"Bucky?"

He smiles, feeling his broken heart slowly mending, "Hi, Doll."

Though you remain cautious and borderline untrusting, you allow Bucky to take your hand and pull you up. For a moment, he takes in the sight of you. For the first time in decades, he sees you and even he can't believe it.

He'd changed the fates' cruel design into something that glistened and glowed once more. 

--

“Steve?” Nat gently calls, knocking on the wood of the conference table. He looks up, completely lost in thought. “Your sister, she’s here. You know that, right?”

“I know.”

“You look pretty bummed for a person that just got their beloved little sister back.”

“I’m not,” he assures her, gently shaking his head. “I’m so happy, so excited.”

“You don’t look like a man that’s either of those things, Steve. You want to tell me what’s wrong?” Nat urges, taking the seat next to him.

“She was a waitress, you know," Steve unexpectedly offers. "Before she volunteered to be a medic, she worked at this crappy diner a few blocks from where we lived.” Nat remains silent, waiting for Steve to continue. “And she used to work so hard, so, so hard for us.”

“I’m sure you worked hard too.”

“Sure,” he scoffs, shaking his head. “But it was different. At the diner, all these scumbags would come in and flirt with her all day long. They never did anything to her, thank God. But she’d let them, just so she wouldn’t lose her job. She’d smile and play along so they wouldn’t hold tips over her head. Jerks just coming in and asking her for a smile, and she just - she had to. She was the one people liked, she lost a lot of friends because she was always defending me. When it should've been the other way around.”

“She sounds tough.”

Steve chuckles, his voice filled with wistful nostalgia, “She was- is. She’s the best. I’d defend her whenever I could, whenever things got out of hand. Sometimes Bucky would step in, he'd tell anyone that would listen that she was off limits. They’d relentlessly flirt with each other. And then I enlisted. And I left her there all alone.”

“And she volunteered,” Nat concludes, putting the pieces of your distant history together. 

“Yeah, but I didn’t - I didn’t handle it well. I forced her onto my team and then-” he falters, remembering the chain of events that lead to your demise. 

That mission. Losing two of the people he loved most all in one fell swoop. First you. Then Bucky. He'd dream about it most nights. Helplessly watching as you clutched your bloodied shoulder. Grasping the railing for dear life. And falling without anyone to catch you. 

“Whatever happened wasn’t your fault, Steve.”

“It is,” he forcefully insists. He remembers it so very well. The objection on your face when he told you that you were staying with him so he could keep an eye on you. How he opened those floodgates, he was the very reason his enemies knew of your existence. And then they exploited it. “I left her there in that tent. I left her unprotected, Bucky told me. He told me he’d stay with her, but I didn’t listen. No, I was too stubborn to listen and I left her there. All alone. And they took her. And when I found her, that day on the train, I didn’t protect her. Her or Bucky. I never protected her the way she deserved to be protected. And I lost them both, all at once."

“Talk to her, Steve. You just have to talk to her.”

“Then what? How do I take away everything that happened to her because of me?”

“It wasn’t your fault,” she insists.

“How do I even look her in the eye?” he continues.

“You do! You just do! And you figure it out, you figure out how to live with the mistakes that we’ve all made. You’re not perfect, but right now you just got your sister back. Your little sister is here in the other room. And I’m sure she’s going to want to see you.”

"I don't think she will," he quietly admits. 

"She's already asked for you," Nat informs him, standing up out of her seat. "She hasn't stopped talking about you, mostly because Tony and Sam are demanding to hear every single embarrassing story she has ... And she definitely told Tony some pretty embarrassing nicknames."

He chuckles halfheartedly, still choked up the overwhelming guilt, "I'll be there in a minute."

--

After a month in the Compound, you can't take it anymore.

Though everyone has repeatedly told you that you're not being kept under lock and key, it certainly feels like it. 

You've barely spoken to Steve in the month since you've been back. And the few words you've pulled out of him, he doesn't even meet your eye.

His words are short. The interactions cold, fleeting, and practically meaningless. He doesn't even say anything about Bucky being attached to your hip. 

And you were suffocating in the silence. 

The others, Steve's friends, tried to make you feel welcome, to explain away his behavior. But in the silence, you came to your own conclusions. Crushing, suffocating, and entirely heart-wrenching, like the rest of the world, your last remaining family moved on. 

You couldn't fault him, the world kept turning, people marched forward, not even Steve could stop that from happening. 

It was a world that you didn't recognize anymore. Surrounded by unfamiliar technology, equally unfamiliar faces, and even more unfamiliar emotions, you left early this morning to look for something tangible. You left Bucky still sleeping in your bed, without a note, or informing anyone else, you simply walked off the Compound in search for anything recognizable.

What you found, you did not like.

After almost half a day of trekking to the city, you stand in front where the diner once stood. Now, a new shiny establishment in its place. But it's not just the diner, it's all of New York. The world had moved on. Your own brother had moved on. All without you. 

You were a relic of a time long passed. 

He couldn't even stand the sight of you anymore. 

Everything except that alley. You stand right at the entrance, in some odd way, it was comforting that it remained as disgustingly dirty as it had decades prior. You look at the dead end, remembering Steve's attempt to save you from an overzealous patron. 

"Don't say a word," an unfamiliar voice says from behind you. 

Your shoulders stiffen as you feel the rigid metal of a gun pressed into your arm. Apparently, some things never changed. 

"I'm really not in the mood for this," you caution through gritted teeth. 

"Are you stupid?" the man sneers, grabbing your arm and pushing your further into the alley. "I want the bag. Everything you got. Now."

"No."

"No?" the man scoffs, taking his gun out of his pocket to point it at you. Even with the gun in your face, you still refuse to back down. You're angry. You're hurt. This was just another drop in the bucket at this point. You were a woman scorned. On the verge, the very precipice. Your patience had worn thin, and it was so recklessly evident. "You've got a death wish or something? Give me the bag."

"No," you repeat. "Trust me, sir, I am in no mood to be tested."

"Are you crazy?" the man demands, reaching out to snatch the bag from you. 

You pull the bag out of his reach, defiantly tucking it just behind you.

Before you can continuing arguing with the armed robber, you see a familiar sight bolting down the alley. This time there's no call of your name. No warning to the man to leave you alone. Steve simply acts.

Acts like the annoyingly overbearing, overprotective older brother he's always been. Protecting you like he'd always wished he could. 

The man sputters, recognizing Steve as he tosses him aside against the exposed brick. 

"Steve," you hiss, trying to pull him away. "That's enough."

He ignores you, angrily picking up the man and pinning him against the wall, clearly letting out all of his pent up anger and frustrations on the man. You wouldn't argue that the man was innocent, but he certainly didn't deserve all of Steve's very pointed wrath. "Apologize."

"I- I'm sorry," the man stammers, looking at you in desperation as though you can just call Steve off. 

You scoff, not at the robber, but at Steve. 

“Steven Grant Rogers, let that man go,” you order. Steve looks at you, your furious expression. He reluctantly removes his forearm from the man’s neck. Slowly turning away from the man and back to you. At the sight of his anger filled expression, you snap, flicking his shoulder, “What is the matter with you?” 

“Did you just flick me?” Steve incredulously asks, flicking your shoulder in retaliation. You barely notice the man taking off nor that Bucky had arrived and was now watching the distantly familiar scene play out. “How freaking old are you?” 

In return, you flick his forehead. “I should ask you the same thing. You think you can just swing at people like nothing? Pin them up against walls by their throat?”

“Guys,” Bucky says, trying to interrupt whatever he just stumbled upon and let the two of you know that you just let that man get away.

He flicks your other shoulder. “I was defending you.”

You flick him twice in return, “You haven’t even spoken to me the entire time I’ve been back and now you want to defend me?!”

"Guys," Bucky tries again, only marginally louder.

“Well, maybe you should stop running away!” Steve shouts.

“I’m not running away. You're the one avoiding me!”

“You left the Compound without telling anyone!”

“I was fine - I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”

“Or maybe your pig head just doesn't know how to ask for help.”

"Well, maybe I learned it from my stubborn ass of a brother!" you shoot back.

"Or maybe it's your smart mouth that-"

"Guys!"

"What!?" you and Steve shout simultaneously.

Instead of saying what he wanted to say or telling them both to calm down or anything of actual importance, he stops with a cheeky grin on his face.

For a moment, the deja vu overwhelms him. It's like he's back in the 40's. He's just found you and Steve in an alley, he's saving Steve, you two are bickering nonstop, he's relentlessly chasing you. He debates opening his mouth to tell the two of you that the guy got away, but he doesn’t. “I - erm. You guys sure do know how to find trouble, don't you?”

For a moment, all of the bad things, all the time you three spent apart, it's all gone. It's completely meaningless.

The clock reversed and brought back what once was his.

Saved what once was lost.

Healed what was hurt.

And changed the fates' design...

AnonymityIsFun Masterlist Bucky Barnes Masterlist

[gleeksfreaksandwannabes]

It’s totally normal to tear up over your own writing, right?

Anyway, Steve’s plan has finally come together, and I couldn’t let it go by without a solid dose of angst! Thank you so much for your love on this story, guys, it means so much!

[unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men]

Me showing a co worker my vintage looking locket with a photo of 40's post serum Steve Rogers and 40's Bucky Barnes

Random older lady:"Aww are those your boyfriend's?"

Me looking at the co-worker who knows my obsessions, looking at the older lady

Me:"Yep we went to one of those vintage photo places, and they have one with me in it"

Older lady:"Well isn't that sweet your a lucky lady"

Me:"You are so right"

The fictional men including Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes:"That's our girl"

[tothosewhoshall]

There is so much about this

Steve Rogers, in the 40's, in front of a fellow army man, openly saying that he loves bucky

Obviously when Steve think of love he thinks of bucky.

I can't imagine losing him, ouch!

"he loved that kid, i can't imagine losing Bucky" HE SAID "that man loved another man, i love bucky"

[ID. A comic panel of Steve Rogers from the shoulders up, looking down slightly. He is in the captain America suit. He's expression is sad and distraught. The speach bubbles say "... Tommy. God, Tommy..." "Have you seen NAMOR at all? He LOVED that kid. I can't imagine losing Bucky..." He is talking to a man who is out of frame.]

[vertigoartgore]

Captain America/Steve Rogers by Steve Epting (SunCon 1995).

[urdepressedslut]

The Girl and Her Golden Boys

⇨ Chapter Two: Don’t Leave

♡ Pairing: 40’s!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader, 40’s!Platonic!Pre-Serum!Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader

♡ Chapter Summary: You three hangout, eating candy. Going to the diner. The day going well, until Steve insists he should join the war.

♡ Chapter Warnings: fluff, mentions of parent issues, angst, self hate, hints to passive suicidal thoughts

It had been a couple days since the funeral, you Steve and Bucky had been inseparable. You stayed with each other all day, and spent the nights together. It was starting to feel like old times, and the three of you welcomed the nostalgic feeling.

“I wonder what the future is gonna be like.” You asked out loud, popping some jellybeans in your mouth.

You were sitting on the apartment stairs, Bucky next to you stealing your jellybeans, while Steve was busy sketching a woman sitting down below.

“Flying cars.” Bucky thought, reaching over and grabbing a handful of candy.

“Flying people probably.” You wondered.

“I bet we will be mind controlled.” Steve mumbled to himself, although you and Bucky could hear.

“Mind controlled? That sounds a little ridiculous punk.” Bucky told Steve, laughing at the goofiness of the thought.

“I bet there will be movi—” You stopped and slapped Bucky’s hand away.

“Hey! What was that for?” Bucky whined, trying to reach for the candy.

“You’re eating all my jellybeans.” You told him, trying not to fall for his puppy eyes.

“Whatever you little brat.” He joked, nudging you in the side, making you giggle.

“Stevieeeee, are you done yet?” You whined dramatically, earning an eye roll from Steve.

“No. Now quiet. Let me focus.” He muttered, smudging some harsh lines with his finger.

“Yeah (Y/n) shush, and gimme some jellybeans.” Bucky teased, reaching for the bag only to grab air when you moved it away from him.

It was little moments like this, the three of you stuck in your own little world. It felt like nothing could ruin this moment.

Bucky’s face grew slightly serious, but still keeping a lighthearted tone to his voice.

“How are you and your dad? I meant to ask earlier but, didn’t seem like the right time.” He told you, his head motioning to Steve behind him.

Your face dropped the slightest bit, and of course Bucky had noticed. It didn’t always used to be a sensitive topic, but since the funeral. Grieving Sarah Rogers, it brought up feelings you had suppressed since your own Mother’s passing.

“It’s complicated.” You muttered, digging around the jellybeans for a cherry red one.

Bucky nudged your side playfully.

“Come on, give me more than that.” He pried.

“Fine. We don’t talk much. When we do talk, it’s a couple words here and there, but I don’t remember the last time I had a conversation with him longer than two minutes.” You told him, huffing in frustration.

“I’m sure it has nothing to do with you, just dealing in his own way.” Bucky hesitated, not thinking it was appropriate for him to assume.

“I don’t know, he acts like he hates me. Maybe he does.” You said sadly, and this comment got Steve’s attention.

“Okay you’re annoying most of the time, but I don’t think he hates you. Like Buck said, just give him time.” Steve explained, glancing up from his sketch to glance below the ledge.

You rolled your eyes, hating when the boys would gang up on you.

“Thanks Steve.” You replied sarcastically, earning a chuckle from Bucky, feeling him wrap an arm around your shoulders pulling you into his side.

“Stevie doesn’t mean it Doll, he’s just jealous that you’re more fun to hang out with.” Bucky whispered, but Steve could easily hear it. Gently kicking Bucky in the back.

“You little punk, what was that for?” Bucky whined, glaring back at Steve.

Steve rolled his eyes, focusing back on his sketch.

“Anyway,” He faced you again, “He doesn’t hate you, it may feel like that but… There’s no way he could hate you.”

You smiled at him, appreciating his comforting words. Bucky was so good at calming you down.

“You’re only saying that to make me feel better.” You told him, popping another few jellybeans.

“Is it working?” Bucky leaned into you playfully.

“Maybe.” You mumbled, earning a chuckle from Bucky.

He looped his arm back around your shoulders pulling you into his side. The warmth from his body melting into yours, you felt so safe in his hold.

Suddenly someone shouting about joining the army had gotten everyone’s attention. Especially Steve, he wasn’t even done with his drawing, but had shut his sketchpad immediately.

You and Bucky jumped from the intense clap from the sketchpad closing. both turning to catch Steve’s interested expression.

Bucky seemed uncomfortable with how drawn Steve was by all the shouts, and quickly changed the subject.

“How about we head to Lori’s Diner. As great as your jellybeans are— I need some real food.” Bucky came up with, resting his head against the side of yours.

Butterflies instinctively fluttered around your stomach, causing a deep crimson to appear on your cheeks.

“I’m offended, my jellybeans are superior.” You announced dramatically, hugging the bag protectively.

“More superior than Lori’s chocolate chip pancakes?” Bucky teased, watching your eyes dilate, your tongue poking out to lick your lips.

He didn’t mean to, but he let his eyes stay on your lips for a little longer than he should’ve.

“That does sound really good.” Steve announced from behind, squeezing his way in between you and Bucky.

Steve sat down, sandwiching himself in between the two of you, all three of you chuckling at the close proximity.

“Lori’s diner it is then.” Bucky spoke, playfully slapping Steve’s back.

~

It had truly felt like old times, the three of you younger— having food fights in this very diner. It was a rush of nostalgia that everyone seemed to need.

You used to ramble on and on about working for Lori one day, wanting to be a waitress.

Lori was a well respected woman, she knew how to run a diner that’s for sure. Everyone within the area knew of her. She greeted and treated every guest like they were an old friend. It was a family environment, a place you go if you started to feel disconnected from your roots.

Although she wasn’t around anymore, her legacy lived on. Her family continuing to care for the diner, honoring her life’s work.

A chocolate chip was pelted at your face, making you flinch in surprise.

“What ya thinking about that’s got you so spacey.” Steve pointed out.

You rolled your eyes, digging your fork into your own pancakes.

“I’m not spacey.”

“Yeah you are.” Steve argued.

You glanced up, glaring at Steve’s know-it-all expression.

“Are you always this annoying?” You sassed.

“Are you always this spacey?” He shot back, smirking when he saw your jaw twitch.

“Alright,” Bucky announced to the two of you, “Next person that says spacey is getting slapped.”

You and Steve immediately backed away from each others throats. It wasn’t uncommon for these petty fights to occur, it was more of a sibling fight then anything. You and Steve never took anything personally, instead just jabbing at each other.

Bucky took another bite of his pancake in triumph, always being the middle guy— stopping the bickering between the two of you.

Steve’s sudden interest out the window had both of yours attention. He was peering out, focusing on another shouting male, going on about joining the war.

You furrowed your brows, watching Steve get so enticed by the man outside. You knew what he was going on about, having passed multiple other shouting men in the streets. You couldn’t stomach the idea of Steve joining the war— being in danger.

“Will you stop.” You spoke out to Steve, gaining his attention with how gentle you spoke the words. Your tone desperate.

He furrowed his brows, shaking his head dismissively— attempting to focus back on his food.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He muttered, avoiding eye contact.

Bucky huffed heavily, rubbing your back soothingly. Knowing exactly what you were inferring.

“Steve just don’t.” You pleaded.

“Why? I wanna fight for our country. I wanna do good.” He argued, keeping his voice at a respectable level.

“You could die, it’s dangerous.” You stated bluntly.

Steve glanced up at those words, looking back and fourth from you to Bucky. He shrugged his shoulders.

“So?” Steve whispered.

His words broke your heart. The way he cared so little about himself and his safety. You hated that he felt like that, but he wasn’t allowed to leave you too. Bucky seemed just as shocked, but kept his reaction hidden.

“I care— we care if you died. Just quit thinking about joining so badly. I know it’s what you want to do but… You can’t leave us. You can’t leave me.” You begged, but you knew it was unfair for you to ask him such a thing.

“Let’s just talk about this later, okay?” Bucky asked both of you. He would rather not ever talk about it again, but he just wanted to enjoy his food with his friends.

“Yeah sure.” Steve agreed monotonously.

Meanwhile you stared down at your plate, wishing you could disappear from Bucky and Steve’s stares. You were selfish in the way you didn’t want to let Steve go— same with Bucky. But you just couldn’t lose somebody else. You didn’t have anymore room for the pain.

A/N: a lot of this series will be domestic stuff 💗

TAGLIST: @i-l-y-3000

[nekoannie-chan]

Promises

Title: Promises.

Ship: Steve Rogers X Reader.

Word count: 1198 words.

Rating: Teen.

Square: B2 Time travel.

Summary: Steve went back in time to have the life he always dreamed of with you.

Warnings/Tags: Angst, fluff, death of a character, fix fic. Major Character Death.

A/N: This is my entry to @allcapsbingo​  AC1078

You can read it too on Ao3 and Wattpad.

@saiyanprincessswanie

My native language is Spanish so I wanna improve my writing skills in English if you notice any mistakes, please let me know and I will correct them.

I don’t give any kind of permission that my fics to be posted on other platforms or languages (I translate myself my work) or the use of my graphics (my dividers are included in this), I did them exclusively for my fics, please respect my work and don't steal it. There are some people here who make dividers that anyone can use, mine is not this type, please look for the other's people. The only exception is the ones I gifted 'cuz now belong to someone else. If you find any of my works on a different platform and are not one of my accounts, please let me know. Reblogs and comments are always welcome.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Marvel's characters (unfortunately), except for the original characters and the story.

Add yourself to my taglist here.

My other media where I publish:  Ao3, Wattpad, ffnet, TikTok, Instagram, Twitter. 

If you like it, please vote, comment, and give me feedback to improve my skills and reblog.

Tags: @sinceimetyou  @unnuevosoltransformalarealidad @navybrat817 @angrythingstarlight @shield-agent78 @charmed-asylum @pandaxnienke @real-fbi @smokeandnailz  @white-wolf1940 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @xoxonotme @bluemusickid @leyannrae @harrysthiccthighss @marvelatthisone @caplanbuckybarnes @sapphire-rogers @lizzieolseniskinda @notyourtypicalrose  @hallecarey1 @nana1000night @talia-rumlow @writingshae @alexxavicry  @azulatodoryuga @daemonslittlebitch​  @chaoticcollectivenightmare​

2023

 The night before Steve returned the stones, it was a calm night; there was no wind; in fact, it was warm. He was sitting on the grass, and Bucky stood next to him.

"From what you told me, have you thought about what to do?" Bucky asked his friend.

"I made a promise to Y/N; I must keep it." I finally found out how to do it. I'm sure she suffered a lot when she found out what happened. "All I want is for her to be happy," Steve answered. Bucky sighed.

"Can I ask you a favor?"

"Don't worry, you know, I will do it, but first I have to see Y/N." Steve knew what Bucky was going to ask.

1945

 It had been two weeks since the last letter you received from Steve. In the last few months, the courier service took a long time, so probably the next letter from Steve will arrive next month.

You got up excited when you heard a knock on the door, maybe it was the mailman and he was bringing you the new letter, however, you were very confused when you saw a man and a woman in military uniform, you didn't know them and they were definitely not Steve or someone he had told you about, but you had a bad feeling.

"Y/N Y/L/N?" the man asked. You nodded suspiciously. "I'm Colonel Phillips; this is Agent Carter; we're here to give you news about Captain Rogers," he introduced himself.

Peggy was the one who started to tell you what had happened with Steve, but after a while, it seemed as if her voice were very far away, and you didn't understand what she kept telling you either.

Your mother had to reassure you when you started to scream; you couldn't believe that Steve was gone.

You smoothed out your black dress; you didn't know what to do; they didn't have Steve's body to make a proper funeral; you weren't even sure if you could call yourself a widow; you were supposed to get married when the war was over; he gave you the engagement ring before he left; that was the promise. The ceremony honouring Steve would be in a month.

2 weeks later

 Nobody opened the door of your house; you ran down the stairs; you held back a scream when you saw who it was; maybe you were hallucinating; the pain was so great that you imagined things you would like to happen.

"Doll, I'm back," Steve said.

You closed the door immediately, it couldn't be true what was happening, maybe your mother was right and you should move to another place, that would help you to get over what happened with Steve.

Steve knocked on the door again, confused. Maybe you were upset because he didn't answer your last letter, unless... there was someone else.

No matter what it was, he needed to talk to you. If he had to do something else, go back further if necessary, but at the end of the day, everything he did was so he could be with you again and have the life you had always dreamed of.

He spent about ten minutes begging you to open the door again.

"Is this really happening?" you asked.

"I am here, doll." I've come to keep my promise.

"That woman... so, that woman lied to me? "you questioned.

"What woman?" Steve was confused.

"I think her last name was Carter; I don't remember the name; she told me that you had died, that they lost communication with you on a mission, and that only meant one thing." Despite everything you remembered about the words she had told you, you didn't even believe you were able to pronounce them; you still believed that maybe you had a fever and all that was a hallucination.

"It was a misunderstanding; we lost communication, but I was fine; I had no way to let you know I was fine; I had to find a way to come back." After a certain amount of time, if they don't hear from you in a certain amount of time, assume you didn't make it and let the family know, the mission was successful, there is no more war or enemies, but the world still needs me," Steve explained.

"You didn't die?" You put your hand on his cheek, and it felt so real.

"No, I promised you I would come back."

"Have you... talked to your superiors?"

"Yes, don't worry; I've arranged everything," Steve assured.

"So, there won't be a ceremony anymore; I mean, you're alive and well, and you're back."

"Of course, there will be a ceremony, and it will be our wedding ceremony.” All I want is to have a life with you."

2018

 "Steve, I always had something to confess to you," you said. You were lying on the bed, squeezing his hand a little, and you knew that the time together was soon going to be over.

"What? "

"I know the truth," you confessed.

"What are you talking about?" Steve stroked your hand.

"You didn't die, but you're not the Steve of my time," you continued.

"How do you…? What? "

"Easy, I know you perfectly well, but I also found one of your diaries many years ago and read them, not to mention that sometimes in your sleep you talked and said things that... now we have already lived and seen "your voice sounded calm, and you even smiled.

"Are you angry?"

"No, I’m happy; you kept your promise, and you came back and saw everything we have done and what we have lived, and it has been just as we dreamed it would be." When they told me what happened, I thought I was going to die; when you came back, I thought I was hallucinating, but no, it was all for real.

"I couldn't let you be sad; I promised your father I would never make you cry," Steve said.

"Was it hard to decide to return to our time?"

"No, it was hard to wake up every day and you weren't there, it was a torment, from the moment I found out where I was I couldn't stop thinking about what our life would be like, all the things we would have done, all our dreams, that maybe they could never come true. Maybe you hated me for not being able to keep my promise. So as soon as I saw the opportunity, I didn't hesitate for a single moment to come back. "I always imagined things as they were: our children, the trips we took, everything, absolutely everything, has been perfect; I could never ask for more or anything different."

"Thank you for keeping your promise. "I love you, Steve." You closed your eyes.

"I love you too." Steve kept smiling for a few more minutes, he knew what had happened, nevertheless, he was satisfied with all the time they had together, if he could do it all over again, he wouldn't hesitate. He got up. It was time to break the news to the rest of the large family you had formed.