You awoke to the warm, golden sun peeking through your haphazardly closed curtains. However, the first thing you felt wasn't the warmth from the sun, but a torturous throbbing and ache in your ankle. You lay in your bed and stared at the ceiling, not daring to move a muscle.
You mentally cursed at the stubborn nature of yourself. If you just told everyone yesterday after the mission that you were, in fact, not fine and that you probably should've gone to the medical ward, you wouldn't be where you were now, sprawled in your bed in misery. If you had just told Steve when he repeatedly asked, for what seemed like a hundred times, if you were okay, you wouldn't be where you were now. But you couldn't go back and tell them, tell him, you actually weren't okay. Not after the fight you put up to convince everyone otherwise. And now you were royally fucked.
You threw the bulky duvet off your body with a huff and sat upright. You slowly swung your legs over the edge of the bed. You eased yourself off the bed, placing your left foot down first then your right lightly. When your right foot made contact with the floor, you winced. The pain wasn't unbearable, but it certainly wasn't pleasant. You could probably pull off not being injured as long as you kept your weight off your right foot as much as possible.
You decided staying in your room all day would just make people suspicious so you made your way slowly to the kitchen in your pajamas to get some breakfast and an ice pack. You hoped you wouldn't run into anyone on your way there, but your hopes were dashed when you saw Tony leaning against the counter drinking a cup of coffee and reading something on his tablet. You continued walking, limping, into the kitchen. Tony looked up from his coffee and watched you for a second before speaking.
"What do we have here?" Tony quirked a brow, a smirk playing on his lips. "Did you finally get some last night?"
You gave him a sharp look. "Why is that always the first place your mind goes?"
"Well, did you?" he asked.
"No," you snapped. "I actually think I pulled something during that mission yesterday," you explained while opening a cabinet and taking out a bowl.
"I think I remember you heavily insisting you were fine."
"I am fine," you pressed. You grabbed a box of Froot Loops from the top of the fridge and began to pour it into your bowl. You swiveled around and opened the fridge, grabbing the milk and pouring it over your cereal. "I don't think it's too serious," you spoke, watching the milk splash around the multicolored rings. "I'm sure it'll go away in a few days."
"And if it doesn't?" he asked.
You plopped down on a bar stool and took a spoonful of cereal and answered through bites, "Then I'll cross that bridge when I get there."
"That bridge isn't going to be too happy when he finds out," he warned.
"Yeah, well just don't tell Steve."
"Don't tell Steve what?" Steve asked as he walked through the entrance of the kitchen.
"Uhh," you paused and looked towards Steve, your eyes growing wide, "that I, uhh, used your coffee mug the other day," you lied, hoping he couldn't tell. You hated lying to him, but your pride wasn't going to let the truth come out just yet.
"Oh, that's okay. I don't mind."
"Why didn't you just use your mug?" Tony asked, a mischievous smirk growing on his face.
"I couldn't find it. I didn't feel like digging around for it," you answered, narrowing your eyes at him.
"Oh?" he opened the cabinet where the mugs were kept. He reached in and grabbed a mug in the front, your mug. "You mean this mug?" his smirk grew even wider.
You let out a nervous chuckle. "Looks like you found it."
Steve looked between you and Tony with a confused expression. He wasn't sure why you were acting weird, but with Tony being involved, he decided not to question it.
"It's okay, Y/N. You can use it whenever you want. I really don't mind," he gave you a reassuring smile.
"Thanks," you couldn't help but smile at his kind response.
"Don't you have training today?" Tony asked. You nodded.
"What's on the agenda for today, Cap?" you asked.
"I was thinking we would work on endurance today," Steve answered.
"So like what, running?" Tony asked. You gave him a side glance. There was no way you could run with the state your ankle was in. And there was definitely no way you could run on it for miles.
"Yeah. Only a couple of miles today. We just got back from a mission so I don't want to push anyone too hard," Steve added.
"Actually, I was thinking on working on strengthening my arms today. After that last mission, I think that's what I need to work the most," you voiced.
"If you think that's what would be best for you then that's fine," he nodded.
"Thanks, Steve," you smiled.
"You know what they say, Y/N, never skip leg day," Tony smirked for the 100th time today. You wanted nothing more than to wipe it off his stupid face.
"I'm going to go change," you said as you placed your empty bowl in the sink, ignoring Tony's comment. "I'll see you two in the gym later," you waved before leaving the kitchen. Once you got back to your room, you changed out of your pajamas and put on a pair of long black leggings and a loose t-shirt. You slipped on your workout shoes to the best of your ability, trying not to aggravate your ankle further. You were surprised that the pain wasn't as excruciating as you thought it would be. You knew running on it would make it worse, so you were glad Steve agreed to let you do something else.
You made your way down to the weight section of the gym, luckily with minimal limping, and picked out a set of dumbbells. You brought them over to one of the benches and sat down, thankful that you could workout and keep your weight off your foot. You started a lifting regimen and began counting your reps. You stopped when you saw Bucky walking over to where you were sitting.
"Hey, how come you got out of running?" Bucky asked.
"I asked nicely," you replied.
"Huh, that's all it takes?" he asked with a raised brow.
"I guess," you shrugged.
"Hey, Steve!" Bucky yelled across the room. Steve looked at him in acknowledgement. "I'm going to work on my arm today instead." Steve nodded and turned back to what he was doing.
"Wow," he turned back to you, "you were right. That was easy," he commented.
"So, you're going to work out your arm today?" you asked with a raised brow. "Just one?"
"Yep," he replied. "This one," he lifted up his metal arm and flexed with a grin. You smiled and rolled your eyes.
"Put that thing away," Sam scolded as he walked towards the two of you.
"Why should I, bird brain?" Bucky asked.
"No one wants to see that," Sam replied, gesturing to Bucky's arm.
"Oh god, here we go," you mumbled under your breath.
"It's okay to admit you're jealous of me," Bucky smirked.
"You wish," Sam scoffed. "Why would I be jealous of an arm when I've got a set of wings that are much cooler?"
"You're proud of those flimsy things? I'm pretty sure I've knocked you out of the sky on multiple occasions," Bucky recalled.
"Well, maybe I let you do that," Sam quipped.
"What's going on over here?" Steve interrupted. You watched as he made his way over to the three of you, a way too tight gray shirt splayed across his chest and a pair of dark blue sweatpants clung to his hips deliciously. Damn, he looked good. But he always looked good. You caught yourself staring at him for a second too long and looked away, your face flushing slightly.
"Looks like I wasn't invited to the party," he stated with a tiny smirk.
"They're having a pissing contest," you replied flatly, finally regaining composure to look at him again.
"Ahh, so the usual," he gave you a knowing look, placing his hands on his hips. You nodded, an amused smile playing on your lips. You both knew this would go on between Sam and Bucky forever if one of you didn't stop it.
"I'm going to start my workout. You coming, Bucky?" you asked.
"Yep," Bucky nodded. "Have fun with this turkey, Steve," he patted Steve on the shoulder before making his way towards the rack of weights.
"Wait, hold up," Sam spoke. "You two aren't running today?"
"Nope," Bucky replied, popping the 'p'. "But you are," he smirked.
Sam looked from Bucky to you and then to Steve, his mouth agape.
"Sorry, Sam," you shrugged. "Have fun on your run," you grinned.
"Can't I work out with you guys?" he pleaded.
"Nope, you gotta work out those chicken legs of yours," Steve said with a shit eating grin. Your jaw dropped at his sassy comment. Bucky stifled a laugh. Sam stood there absolutely dumbfounded.
"Oh ho," Sam grumbled. "That's low, Steve, real low."
"You two," you pointed to Sam and Bucky, "have corrupted him."
"Oh no, he's always been corrupted," Bucky smirked. Steve let out a short chuckle and rubbed the back of his neck. You just shook your head.
"Let's go," Steve looked over to Sam and patted him on the back. "See you two later," he said with a smile, his eyes locking with yours, before leading Sam outside to start their run. You watched the two of them leave. Well, you mostly watched Steve leave. When they were no longer in sight, you turned back to start your workout and were met with Bucky sitting on the bench across from you, an amused smile on his face.
"What?" you asked, slightly uncomfortable under his gaze.
"Nothin'," he replied nonchalantly, the smile still plastered on his face.
"Clearly it's something. Why do you have that stupid smile on your face?" you asked. "You're starting to look like the Cheshire Cat."
"Just thinking 'bout something," he answered.
"Ah-ha, so it's definitely not nothing."
"Guess not," he shrugged, still smiling.
"So?" you gestured for him to elaborate.
"So…" he trailed off. You looked at him expectantly. "Any reason you're not running today?" he finally asked. You froze. You definitely were not expecting that question. Not from Bucky at least. You didn't think he would've picked up on the fact your ankle had been hurting.
"No reason," you shrugged, hoping you were giving off a believable vibe. "I just think I need to work on my arms more, especially after yesterday's mission."
"I see," he hummed. "And you're sure it has nothing to do with that ankle you've been limping on since we got back?" he asked raising a brow.
"Bucky, I-"
"Listen, I get it," he started. You were slightly shocked by his words. "You don't want to worry anyone or get taken off missions, yadda yadda yadda. I've been there. We've all been there." Your eyebrows rose at his statement. "But," he paused, "you gotta tell Steve. He hasn't shut up about it since we got back." Now you were fully, one hundred percent, shocked by his words.
"I-I don't…I don't understand," you stammered.
"Steve's worried about you is all," he stated. You felt your face heat up at this. "And," he continued, "I think you should just tell him the truth and put him out of his misery."
"But he'll be mad," you replied.
"I don't think so," he shook his head.
You huffed in response. You knew Bucky knew Steve, so when he said he didn't think Steve would be mad, you wanted to believe him with every fiber in your being. But you just couldn't. What if he was wrong? You didn't want to take that risk. You were fairly certain your ankle would feel good as new in a couple of days anyway.
"You know, while you're at it," he hummed, "you could also tell him that other thing you've been hiding from him," he smirked.
"What other thing?" you asked. You knew the answer. You knew Bucky was referring to the strong feelings you had been harboring for years towards the man.
"You know."
"Obviously I don't," you replied.
"Look, I see the way you look at him. There's no denying there's something there," he stated. You blinked at him, slightly taken aback that he had actually picked up on the fact that you liked Steve. You hadn't told a soul, not even your close friends, Natasha and Wanda. You'd been trying your hardest to hide your feelings for Steve for years. You didn't treat him any differently than you did with anyone else on the team. At least, you thought you didn't. You thought you had been doing well at keeping your feelings a secret. Apparently, you were wrong.
"Bucky, I don't-,"
"God," he groaned, running his hands down his face in frustration. "You both are so stubborn," he muttered and shook his head. "Listen, you don't have to admit it to me. But," he paused, "you should tell him. I told him to get his head out of his ass and tell you, but…"
"Wait, what are you saying?" you asked, your eyes growing wide. You could feel your heartbeat speed up faster and faster as each second passed.
"It's not for me to say," he shrugged apologetically. You let out a long sigh, feeling slightly defeated that he wouldn't tell you exactly what he was hinting at. You had to respect that, though. If it was true, that Steve, in fact, by some crazy chance, liked you back, then you would want to hear it from him.
"So, you'll talk to him?" he asked, the corners of his mouth turning up slightly.
"Fine," you grumbled.
