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sosa2imagines · 1 month ago

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Are you mine?

Warnings- Angst, Steve and Bucky are idiots.

Being in love with Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes felt like living in a dream.

A dream so perfect, so utterly untouchable, that even the ghosts of the past couldn’t tarnish it. The three of you had fought wars together, bled together, and survived against impossible odds. You trusted them with your life and, more importantly, with your heart.

Steve, ever the protector, held your hand through the nightmares, his voice a quiet promise in the dark. Bucky, all sharp wit and unspoken devotion, pressed kisses into your hair when he thought you weren’t paying attention. They made you feel safe, like nothing in the world could shake the foundation of what you had.

You belonged to them, and they belonged to you.

The compound had always been your sanctuary, a place where the weight of being an assassin and an Avenger didn’t feel so heavy.

Missions were brutal, but coming home to them made it worth it. Your mornings were tangled limbs and soft murmurs, their warmth pulling you from restless sleep. Your nights were laughter and whispered confessions, hands intertwined beneath the sheets.

Everything was fine, until she arrived.

A trainee named Cassidy.

Sent to the compound for a few days of “intense training” with the Avengers. Young, eager at least, that’s what Fury had said. But from the moment she walked through the doors, it was clear training was the last thing on her mind.

You caught the way her eyes lingered on Steve's broad shoulders, the way she smiled just a little too sweetly when Bucky grunted in response to something she said. You noticed the way she conveniently positioned herself between them whenever she could, the way her touch lingered just a second too long.

It was nothing. Just admiration, maybe even hero worship. You told yourself that, again and again. Steve and Bucky were yours. They loved you.

And yet… doubt had a way of creeping in, even where trust once lived.

For the first time in a long time, you felt something unfamiliar in your own home.

Unease.

You weren’t the jealous type, you had no reason to be, not when Steve and Bucky had given you every reassurance, every reason to trust them. And you did trust them. You trusted them blindly.

But can you trust the world?

Trust didn’t stop the ache in your chest when you saw Cassidy wedged between them on the couch, laughing at something Bucky said. It didn’t stop the sting when Steve placed a comforting hand on her back, so absentmindedly, so effortlessly, like it was second nature.

Like it was something he used to do for you.

You stood frozen in the doorway, fingers tightening around the edge of your jacket. That was your spot. That had always been your spot. Between them. Their arms around you. Their warmth surrounding you.

Now?

Now Cassidy sat there, twirling a lock of her hair, giggling, her body angled towards them like she belonged. And Steve and Bucky?

They didn’t even notice you standing there.

“You’re imagining things, Y/n.” Natasha leaned against the kitchen counter, sipping her coffee as she watched you pick at your food. She didn’t say it dismissively, but there was caution in her voice. Careful, Y/n. Don’t spiral.

“I’m not...” Your voice was hollow. You pushed your plate away and exhaled shakily. “She’s always there, Nat. Always with them. Always touching them...” You swallowed hard, shame burning in your throat. “I feel like… like I don’t exist anymore.”

Natasha sighed, setting her cup down. “Come on. You know Steve and Bucky. They’d never…”

“I know they wouldn’t.” Your fingers curled into fists. “But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.”

Natasha studied you, eyes softer now. “Talk to them, then.”

You nodded. You would. Of course, you would.

But deep down, you were terrified they wouldn’t see it, because they never seemed to see you anymore, ever since Cassidy came.

At first, it was small things.

A conversation cut short because Cassidy had a question. A training session where she suddenly needed Bucky to correct her stance, his hands on her wrists, her waist. A mission debrief where she sat beside Steve, too close, her voice too soft.

Then the canceled plans started.

“I’m sorry, Doll, but we promised we’d show Cassidy the training simulations today.”

“I’ll make it up to you, sweetheart. I swear.”

“We’ll take you out tomorrow, okay?”

Tomorrow never came.

And suddenly, your nights felt emptier. You’d wake up reaching for them, only to find cold sheets where they should have been. You weren’t sure what hurt more.

The loneliness or the fact that they didn’t even realize you were lonely.

They were still yours, weren’t they?

Then why did it feel like you were losing them?

It had been days, days since you had a proper conversation with either of them. Days since they held you like they used to. The only time you got them was at night, in bed.

And yet, there she was again, always there, standing too close to Steve as he poured coffee in the kitchen. Bucky leaned against the counter, smirking at something she said, arms crossed over his chest.

“God, Steve, I still don’t know how you carry that shield around all day.” Cassidy reached out, brushing her fingers over his bicep. “Guess it helps that you’re, like, all muscle.”

Steve laughed, shaking his head. “Occupational hazard, I guess.”

“What about you, Bucky?” She turned to him, eyes bright. “I mean, that metal arm has to be heavy, right? Can I?”

“Nah, sweetheart, it’s lighter than it looks.” Bucky smirked, flexing his vibranium fingers.

Sweetheart.

Your stomach dropped, that was your name. He called you that. Not her.

Your blood ran cold as Cassidy laughed, playfully nudging Bucky’s arm. Steve smiled, amused. Not once did they notice you standing there. Not once did they feel the air shift, the way your entire world was starting to crumble.

That night, you laid in bed alone. Again.

Because, Steve and Bucky had been in the common room with Cassidy, and you couldn’t take it anymore. So you had left.

You curled into yourself, biting the inside of your cheek to keep the sob from escaping.

They were just being nice. Right?

They didn’t see what you saw. Didn’t feel what you felt. Didn’t see how much it was killing you. Right?

And you were too afraid to ask the question burning inside you, “What if they don’t miss me like I miss them?”

You didn’t know how long you had been sitting all alone in the common room.

The compound was quiet, save for the faint hum of the ventilation system. You sat curled up on the couch in the dark, staring at nothing, arms wrapped around yourself as if that could hold you together. The weight in your chest felt heavier than usual, pressing down, suffocating.

You had spent the entire day alone. Again.

They hadn’t noticed. Again.

The cushion beside you dipped, and you didn’t need to look to know who it was. Natasha.

“You’re doing that thing again…” she murmured.

You blinked. “What thing?”

“Shutting down.”

You inhaled sharply, dropping your gaze to your lap.

Natasha sighed, shifting to face you. “Sweets, talk to me.”

Natasha always called you that name, and her reason was you were the only sweet person in her life.

You shook your head. “There’s nothing to say.”

“Bullshit.” She reached out, squeezing your knee. “I see you, you know. The way you’re fading. The way you barely eat. The way you don’t sleep until you’re too exhausted to fight it anymore.”

You swallowed hard, fingers gripping the fabric of your pants.

“They love you, Sweets.” Natasha’s voice was gentle but firm. “This… whatever this is, it’s temporary. They’ll see what’s happening.”

You let out a humorless laugh, shaking your head. “No, they won’t…” Your throat burned as you whispered, “They don’t see me anymore, Nat.”

Silence.

Natasha shifted closer, resting her forearm on the back of the couch. “We survived worse, you and me. Remember?”

You knew where she was leading the conversation, but you didn’t care.

“I wish I could remember.” The words slipped out before you could stop them.

Natasha frowned. “Remember what?”

You exhaled shakily, gaze unfocused. “How they trained us. How they made us feel nothing.”

Natasha tensed. “Don’t do that,” she warned. “Don’t go there.”

You lifted your head to meet her eyes. “Why not? It would be easier.” Your voice cracked. “I wouldn’t have to feel like this. Wouldn’t have to wake up reaching for them only to remember I don’t exist to them anymore.”

Natasha’s grip tightened on your knee. “That’s not true.”

“Isn’t it?” Your smile was hollow. “They canceled our date today, Nat. Again. I was supposed to spend the evening with them. Instead, I spent it watching Cassidy laugh at Bucky’s jokes and touch Steve’s arm and…” You sucked in a shaky breath, voice barely above a whisper. “And they let her.”

Natasha’s expression darkened, but she said nothing.

You turned your gaze back to the floor. “I just… I don’t want to feel this anymore.”

She was quiet for a long time before she whispered, “You’re not in the Red Room anymore, Sweets. You have them. You have me.”

You nodded. But the ache in your chest remained, because deep down, you weren’t sure if you still had them at all.

The bed felt massive. You lay curled up on one side, facing away from the door, the covers pulled tightly around you. The scent of Steve and Bucky still lingered on the sheets, but it brought no comfort.

Then the mattress dipped.

First on one side, then the other. Warm bodies slid in beside you, their familiar presence surrounding you.

“Doll?” Steve’s voice was soft, hesitant.

Bucky shifted behind you, his arm resting loosely around your waist. “We’re sorry about earlier, sweetheart.”

Your throat burned.

“We’ll make it up to you,” Steve added quickly. “We’ve got a whole day planned for you tomorrow. Just the three of us. No interruptions, promise.”

Tomorrow.

You closed your eyes.

They had said that last time.

And the time before that.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, willing yourself to stay silent.

Bucky pressed a kiss to your shoulder. “Come on, talk to us, Doll. We know you’re mad.”

Mad.

Was that what they thought this was? Your lips parted, but no words came out. Because what was the point? Tomorrow would come, and it would be the same.

Cassidy would be there.

Steve and Bucky wouldn’t notice.

And you? You would be alone again. A tear slipped down your cheek, but you kept your eyes closed. If you stayed quiet, maybe they wouldn’t hear how badly you were breaking.

Morning passed in a blur.

You moved through training sessions on autopilot, barely speaking, barely feeling. Natasha watched you carefully, her sharp gaze catching every falter, every moment you hesitated before leaving the gym. You knew she wanted to say something, but you weren’t sure if you had it in you to listen.

So you just kept going.

Kept pretending.

Kept waiting for Steve and Bucky to remember.

And then they did. Or so you thought.

“Doll, come on! Movie night’s all set up!”

Bucky’s voice rang through the hall as you made your way toward the common room, a flicker of hope stirring in your chest.

They remembered. They finally remembered.

For the first time in days, your heart didn’t feel so heavy. You ran your fingers through your hair, exhaling softly as you reached the doorway, ready to sink into the warmth of your boys.

And then you saw her.

Cassidy.

Sitting between them.

Again.

Your body locked up, breath catching in your throat. She was curled up comfortably, her legs tucked beneath her as she laughed at something Bucky whispered in her ear. Steve sat relaxed beside her, arm draped over the back of the couch, so damn close, so damn easy, like she belonged there.

Like she belonged with them.

You forced yourself to speak, though your voice barely carried. “What is she doing here?”

Steve turned, smiling at you. That easy, oblivious smile that used to make your heart race.

Now?

It made you feel sick.

“She didn’t know it was just meant to be us,” he said lightly, rubbing the back of his neck. “And we didn’t wanna be rude, so…”

You didn’t hear the rest, your ears were ringing.

They didn’t want to be rude to her. You stared at them. At her. And then you swallowed down every emotion clawing its way up your throat. “Enjoy the movie.”

That was all you said before turning on your heel and walking away.

They didn’t call after you.

Didn’t chase you.

Didn’t even notice the way your hands were trembling as you pushed open the door.

The tears came before you even reached the elevator, but you didn’t stop walking, didn’t wipe them away, didn’t care if anyone saw.

Not that they would. No one ever did.

You should have gone to your room. You should have buried yourself under the covers and let the ache consume you in silence.

But the walls were closing in too fast.

So instead, you climbed, up the emergency stairwell, up to the roof, where the air was sharp and cold, where the wind bit at your damp cheeks, where no one could see you break.

Your hands gripped the ledge as you sucked in deep, desperate breaths.

They had remembered and it still hadn’t mattered.

A hollow laugh escaped your lips, bitter and broken. You should have known, you should have known it would end up like this.

You closed your eyes, head tilting back as the city lights blurred beneath the weight of your tears.

You had never felt more alone.

By the time you came down from the roof, your tears had dried, but the weight in your chest remained, suffocating and unrelenting.

You stepped into the hallway, head down, steps quick, just wanting to reach your room, just wanting to breathe without feeling like you were drowning.

But the moment you turned the corner, you froze.

Steve.

Bucky.

And her.

They were standing there, talking, laughing.

Cassidy’s hand was on Bucky’s arm, her body tilted toward him in that way she always did, like she was drawn to him. Steve stood beside them, relaxed, like the world wasn’t crumbling around you.

Like they hadn’t just broken your heart a little more.

Their laughter died down when they saw you.

You knew they noticed your red, swollen eyes. Knew they saw the way your shoulders tensed, the way your fists clenched at your sides.

But they didn’t say anything.

Didn’t ask if you were okay.

Didn’t ask where the hell you had gone.

No, Steve just frowned slightly, like he was trying to piece something together. Like you were some puzzle he couldn’t quite solve.

You didn’t give him the chance, you walked past them without a word, without a glance.

Without acknowledging them at all.

And still, still they didn’t stop you.

The compound doors slammed shut behind you as you ran, your feet pounded against the pavement, muscles burning, lungs heaving, but you didn’t stop.

Didn’t slow down, didn’t care where you were going, as long as it was away.

Away from the suffocating silence, away from them, away from her.

You pushed yourself harder, faster, as if you could outrun the pain clawing at your chest, the unbearable ache of being unseen by the two people who were supposed to know you best.

They had always seen you, hadn’t they? Then why did it feel like you were fading? Why did it feel like you were already gone?

You were so lost in your own head, so consumed by the roaring in your ears, that you didn’t hear the footsteps behind you until a firm hand grabbed your arm, yanking you to a stop.

“Enough.”

Natasha.

You blinked at her, breathing hard, vision blurring. But she didn’t let go. Didn’t loosen her grip. She just stared at you, her green eyes filled with something sharp, something dangerous.

Something like determination.

“I let this go on for too long,” she muttered. “That’s on me.”

You swallowed hard, chest still rising and falling in ragged breaths. “Nat…”

“No.” Her voice was steel. “You’re not doing this. You’re not running until your body gives out just because they’re too damn blind to see what’s happening.”

Your throat tightened. “I don’t know what to do...”

She sighed, her hand loosening slightly but not letting go. “Then let me do something.”

Your breath hitched, but you believed in her.

Natasha had always been your anchor, your constant. You had survived hell together. She knew you better than anyone, sometimes even better than Steve and Bucky.

So when she said those words, when she looked at you like that, like she was done watching you suffer, something inside you cracked.

You swallowed hard, voice barely a whisper, “Okay.”

You hadn’t spoken much since that night, since the roof. Since Natasha found you and promised to do something.

You weren’t sure what you had expected, but you hadn’t expected him.

You sat on the rooftop again, legs pulled to your chest, arms wrapped around your knees. The city stretched out before you, endless and glowing, but all you saw was the emptiness.

The way you had been fading, the way they had let you, the way it still hurt.

You exhaled shakily, trying to push it all down, trying to keep yourself from breaking again.

“Bub.”

Your breath caught, your heart stopped, that voice.

Rough. Low. Familiar.

A voice that belonged to only one person.

You turned slowly, the cold air biting at your tear-streaked face and there he was.

Logan.

Your brother.

Standing there, broad and tense, his sharp eyes scanning you with a fury you hadn’t seen in a long time, his jaw clenched.

SNIKT.

The sound of his claws unsheathing was sharp, deadly, cutting through the silence like a blade to the heart.

His eyes darkened, fists trembling, rage radiating from his very being.

“Who?”

It was just one word, just one syllable, but it carried the weight of a storm. You swallowed hard, dropping your gaze.

Logan stepped closer, his boots heavy against the rooftop, his presence overwhelming.

“Who did this to you, Bub?” His voice was lower now, dangerous. “Tell me. I’ll gut ‘em.”

You squeezed your eyes shut. “Logan...”

“Look at me.”

You did and the moment his eyes met yours, whatever restraint he had left snapped.

“Those sons of bitches!” he snarled, pacing now, breathing ragged. His claws flexed, his shoulders heaved, pure, unfiltered rage pouring from him. “You’re telling me those two idiots, our idiots did this? Made you feel like this?”

You couldn’t answer.

Didn’t have to, because your silence was enough.

Logan let out a rough, guttural growl, his fists clenching so tightly that his knuckles went white despite the metal already tearing through his skin.

“I’ll kill ‘em.”

“No, you won’t.” Natasha’s voice cut through the tension, sharp and unwavering.

You turned just in time to see her step onto the rooftop, arms crossed, her expression unreadable.

“Why the hell not?” Logan snapped. “They hurt her.”

“I know,” Natasha said evenly. “That’s why she’s leaving.”

Your breath hitched, “What?”

Natasha walked toward you, gaze softening as she reached out and brushed her knuckles against your cheek. “Pack a bag, Sweets. You’re going with Logan.”

Your lips parted, but no words came out.

Logan’s brows furrowed. “Wait, you’re actually letting me take her?”

“She needs to get away from here,” Natasha murmured, eyes never leaving yours. “From them.”

You stared at her, then at Logan, your throat tightening so painfully you thought it might close entirely.

“Tasha…”

“No arguments,” she said softly but firmly. “You’re not okay. And I won’t stand here and watch you disappear.”

A single tear slipped down your cheek.

You felt Logan’s heavy hand settle on your shoulder, grounding you, steadying you.

“C’mon, Bub,” he murmured, voice softer now, almost pleading. “Let’s go.”

You hesitated, not because you didn’t want to leave.

But because leaving meant giving up. Leaving meant accepting that they had chosen her, that they had chosen everyone but you.

But maybe... maybe they had already made that choice a long time ago.

You inhaled sharply and nodded.

And this time, you didn’t look back.

Part 2

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