Separation(BuckyBarnesxReaderxSteveRogers-Contest)

________1927________

“Steve! Steve! Hey Steve,” you ran towards your blond and scrawny friend, “Guess what I found!”

Steve looked up from his book and sighed. Here you were, acting all excited. You were a few months older than him, but sometimes you acted as if you were a few years younger.

“What is it [Name],” he dogged eared his page and walked off his front porch to meet you.

“James has a diary,” you giggled, “Look, look, he writes EVERYTHING in here.” You handed Steve a small, leather bound book and jumped up and down excitedly, “Read it, read it!”

“Why don’t you read it yourself,” Steve replied, “I don’t want to get caught up in this mess. You should give it back to Bucky.”

You rolled your eyes, “You know I can’t read,” you laughed it off, but it was actually quite a sensitive subject for you. You were born with a minor learning disability, and that made all the difference. Looking at you, people couldn’t tell, but the moment they handed you a sheet of paper with three sentences on it, it would take you an eternity to read them. That’s why you didn’t go to school like the other children; your mother taught you to read at home.  “Why do you call him Bucky,” you asked, “James is such a nice name, and everyone just ignores it.”

Steve shrugged and handed the book back to you, “It’s a nickname, plus it fits his personality.”

You smiled a little and looked behind you, “We should hide this, I think I can see James, on his way. Here, take it!”

You shoved the book back into Steve’s chest and giggled, “It’s on you now! Hurry, hide it!”

“Why do you always do this to me,” Steve pretended to complain, “Where should I put it?”

“In the flowerpot, quickly,” you pushed Steve to the hiding spot and looked back at the figure getting closer and closer, “Here he comes, start reading your book out loud to me so it doesn’t look suspicious.”

“Your very presence is suspicious,” Steve grumbled, earning a playful shove from you.

Bucky finally reached the house, panting, “[Name],” he breathed, “Give me…back…my journal.”

“You mean your diary,” you teased him, “I don’t have it.”

“It’s a journal! Now you’d better give it back or, or…I’ll tell everybody that you can’t read,” Bucky’s face was a deep shade of pink, and you could tell he was dead serious.

“You wouldn’t,” you challenged, hoping he wouldn’t, but still knowing that he would.

“I will, right now,” Bucky growled, “I’ll yell it so loud that all the neighbors will be able to hear it. I’ll count to three—”

“James don’t do it,” you pleaded.

“One,”

“Please don’t James, I’ll do anything.”

“Two,”

You glanced at Steve with a begging expression. Do something. You mouthed. Steve just sat there, waiting for you to decide what to do. He looked back down at his book; this was your fight.

“Thr—”

“It’s in the flowerpot,” you cracked, “Please don’t say anything to anyone, I’m sorry I took your journal. Just don’t tell anyone.” You were almost crying, mostly out of the shock that your friend would do something like that to you.

Bucky looked slightly relieved, almost as if he didn’t want to have to tell anyone, “You didn’t read it di—” The words escaped his mouth before he could stop them. In his moment of concern, he had forgotten. Why? He sounded like a jerk now, a terrible, insensitive, horrible jerk. “[Name] I’m sorry I wasn’t thinking—”

You could feel the stinging tears at the corners of your eyes. Now this was just cruel, he knew the answer, and he still asked. “I hate you James Buchanan Barnes,” you screamed at him, “I don’t want to see you ever again!” You spun on your heel and started running home.

Bucky tried to run after you and apologize, but Steve stopped him, “Let her calm down, I’ll go after her, you wait here.”

Bucky swallowed and sat down. He didn’t mean to say anything hurtful, it just…came out. He held his head in his hands and groaned, ashamed of what he had done.

Steve was sprinting after you, and you could hear his heavy breathing; it was the asthma. You slowed down out of concern, and turned around. “What do you want,” you sniffed.

Steve took a few moments to catch his breath. “I need to talk to you about what Bucky said,” his earnest blue eyes bore into you [e/c] ones, “He didn’t mean it, it was an accident.”

“Then why didn’t he come and apologize to me himself,” you rubbed tears away from your eyes.

“Would you have stopped if he were the one chasing you,” Steve inquired.

“I…I guess not,” you hung your head, “But I don’t want to talk about James, I want to go home.”

Steve nodded in understanding, “Want me to take you?”

You nodded, “Okay, but no running this time, I don’t think you’ll survive if we do.”

Steve chuckled, “Yeah, no running.”

________1935________

Ah, high school. After learning to read when you were ten, you went to school with the rest of the children in your neighborhood. You finally made friends with other girls, and you all stuck together through middle school, and now, sophomore year of high school.

You sat with your friends, giggling. “James isn’t like that, he’s sweet, and he means well…Alright, he can be a nuisance sometimes, and he is wild, but he’s still my friend.”

The blonde, her name was Katherine, leaned closer to you with shimmering amber eyes, “Have you and Bucky ever, you know.”

There was a lot of blushing in the group, but you just laughed, “What? No, never. Even if we tried,” you admitted, “Steve probably would’ve made us stop. No though, James is just a friend.”

The girls looked unconvinced, “Are you sure,” the brunette by the name of Eliza smirked, “The way you two always talk to each other, it makes the rest of us girls jealous.”

You could feel a faint blush creep onto your cheeks, “Oh come on,” you protested, “I do not like James…not like that.”

“Someone’s in denial,” Katherine teased, “You do like him!”

“No I don’t,” you rose to your feet, “Even if I did I would much rather date Steve than be with James.”

“Speak of the devil,” Eliza whispered, “Look who just got here. Hi Bucky,” she called girlishly while waving; “We were just talking about you.”

“Oh really,” Bucky grinned flirtatiously, “And what were you all saying? All good things I hope.”

“Oh, only good things for you Bucky,” Katherine giggled.

It made you sick to your stomach to see the way these girls desperately threw themselves at your friend. Sure, these girls were your friends too, but that didn’t mean you approved of their methods.

Bucky turned to you and raised an eyebrow, “What about you, did you say anything about me that might’ve ruined my reputation with these lovely ladies.”

“I didn’t say anyth—” you began.

Eliza interrupted you, “She said that she would rather make out Steve Rogers ever think about dating you.”

“Liz! You didn’t have to say that,” you hissed, not meeting Bucky’s eyes, “And that’s not what I said at all, you’re exaggerating!”

Bucky’s smile faded a little, “Then what did you say, exactly.”

You blushed, “I said I’d rather date Steve than you,” you mumbled.

“What,” Bucky took a step closer, “Speak up.”

You could tell he was angry, the atmosphere turned cold, and Katherine and Eliza nervously snuck away.

“I said,” you repeated yourself, glaring into his eyes, “I would rather be in a relationship with Steve, than with you.” This time, you could feel part of yourself actually meaning it.

Bucky closed his eyes and turned away, “I see, well, why don’t we go tell your sweetheart Steve that?”

“Wait, James,” you tried to hold him back.

He shoved you away, “My name is Bucky. You don’t deserve to call me James.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, “James,” you whispered as he walked away, presumably to tell Steve what you had said. Not unless you found him first.

You ran to where you thought he’d most likely be; the art room. If Bucky really believed you preferred Steve, then let him.

“Steve,” you called out, “Can I talk to you?”

Steve looked up from his sketchbook and smiled, “Sure, what is it?”

You took a deep breath, “Have you ever kissed anyone before?”

Steve blushed, “I uh…well…no…”

“Ah,” you replied plainly, sitting next to him, “What’re you drawing there?”

“Oh, nothing really,” Steve was relieved to have a reason to look down and away from your captivating eyes.

“Huh, well, keep at it,” you smiled, “You’re an amazing artist.” You gently rested your lips on his cheek and rose to your feet, “See you later.”

“Wait, [Name],” Steve stopped you, “Have you ever kissed someone before?”

You shook your head, “No, well, not on the lips at least.”

Steve gave a little nod, and before you knew what was happening, his lips were pressed against yours. The kiss was soft and sweet; you slowly wrapped your arms around Steve’s neck, and leaned in, just a little more. You weren’t controlling yourself, and from the looks of it, neither was Steve. You felt one hand on your waist and the other in your hair.

“STEVE ROGERS! YOU’RE DEAD,” a furious voice tore the two of you apart.

Bucky stood in front of the door with a look of pure hatred on his face.

Steve swallowed, “Hey Bucky, uh, what’s up?”

“Don’t you ‘what’s up’ me,” Bucky growled in response, “You know perfectly well what’s up! You traitor!”

Steve’s face flushed, “Well you know what? What if I like [Name] too? Have you ever thought of that? I mean look at you! You could pick up any girl easy, but me… [Name]’s the only girl who’s ever been this nice for this long.”

You looked from one boy to the other. You couldn’t believe it; they were fighting over you. Why? You weren’t worth that much, well sure, you were an okay person, but this much trouble for something so small?          

“Stop! Both of you,” you shouted, “This isn’t something to fight over! You guys are best friends, don’t let me ruin that.”

Steve wouldn’t look at you, but Bucky did, “You started this whole mess [Name], and it’s going to take more than that to clean it up.”

You clenched your fist and stormed up to Bucky. “Well then maybe this will fix things,” you punched him in the jaw with all your might. Then, grabbing Steve’s arm, you ran out of the room.

________1936________

Things between you and Bucky had become sour. He’d rarely ever look at you, and you could see him glaring at Steve every now and then. It hurt to see that their friendship, your friendship, had fallen apart because you couldn’t decide. It was hard, loving both boys equally, and you didn’t want to make one of them suffer while the other was with you. The decision weighed too much on your shoulders.

You made up your mind; you had to put an end to all this once and for all. Sighing, you walked into your history class the only class the three of you had together. It was the end of the year, so the teacher had gotten pretty relaxed when it came to seating arrangements, which gave you the opportunity to get things in order.

When Steve entered the room, you dragged him to the corner where Bucky sat, alone and brooding. Bucky glanced up at you for a moment, then went back to staring at his desk.

You took a deep breath. “Look you two, things haven’t been the same since…well since that and I’m going to put a stop to it. From now on I want you guys to be best friends; I never knew you, and you never knew me.”

Steve glanced at you. “[Name], what’re you planning to do?” Even Bucky’s interest was piqued.

“I’m going to finish up here, then move to Queens for my senior year.” You replied, refusing to look at either of them. “I thought that if I left…you two could be the way you used to. Before I messed everything up.”

The two boys were silent until Bucky broke the tension. “So, this is the last time we’re all going to be together?”

You nodded solemnly, “I’m sorry, to both of you, I never meant to hurt you.”

Whatever the boys were about to say was interrupted by the bell. You sat down, letting your bag slide to the floor. This was your last day, your finale. And how did you spend it? Sitting in between the two most amazing boys in the world, listening to an adult drone on about the civil war.