One-Shots | Bucky Barnes & Steve Rogers (and actors)

I don't know you anymore [s.r.]

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader
Prompt: "I don't know you anymore." (via me.)
Warning: Sad, angst, no happy ending, language, allusions to past smut, I think that's it.
A/N: I am rereading one of my favorite series (ACOTAR series by Sarah J Maas) and this idea that generated from a relationship in the books suddenly became a Steve fic. Enjoy, or don't, because I doubt this will be enjoyable. This is unedited.

The long nights of Steve absence didn't feel much different from when he was here. Not really, not now. The love that once held you together now doesn't seem enough. It isn't enough.

You don't greet him like you normally would when he gets home. You almost miss it, the longing to make sure he is okay, to go on missions with him and take every spare moment you get to fuck each other's brains out in whatever dark corner you could find. All of that is long gone.

You still love him. Always will in a way, just not like you should. Tempers get the best of you both more times than you care to admit. The passion that once drew you to him is now driving you away. You are sitting on your shared bed, a bed now used for little more than sleeping, when a knock sounds.

"[Y/N]? Are you okay?" Steve asks before opening it enough to slip through.

"I don't know."

"What do you mean?" He is on edge. You can tell, and this conversation will do nothing to quell it either.

"I can't do this anymore, Steve."

"Do what?" His voice is already raising slightly. You take a deep breath.

"Us, Steve." Despite the anger welling up in response to his sharp tone you manage to keep your voice even.

"What the hell!" He looks at you, the pent-up rage from the mission still sitting on the surface. "This couldn't have waited?"

"No! It couldn't have!" You yell, matching him. "Everything has to wait Steve!"

"No, it doesn't!"

"Yes, it does! It does with you!" You take a calming breath, the desired effect not there. "Do you even love me anymore?"

"Of course, I love you [Y/N]! What gave the idea that I didn't?" He yells, agitated at the timing of this conversation.

You nod. "Do you respect me as your equal?" You ask, voice low, quiet. He doesn't answer. He can't. Not when he doesn't know the answer. He wants to say yes, but as his mind combs through the past few months, he can't.

"I don't know you anymore." You mumble, loud enough for him to hear. "I don't where we went wrong."

"Me either."

"When did you stop?" You ask, Steve knowing what you are talking about.

"I don't know."

You don't say anything for a long while; don't react when he sits next to you on the bed. The only sound is that of yours and his breathing.

"What made you fall in love with me?" You ask him.

"You needed me." He answers almost immediately. "I felt needed. I felt like I had a purpose, and that was to love you. I know it isn't right, but it's true. You needed someone in your corner, and I needed to be that someone."

"I don't need you now. Not really." You pause, mulling it over. "You stopped respecting me as an equal when I started treating you as one. You loved the girl. I am a woman now; I don't need saving."

"I know." He looks at you, tears staining his eyes. "I'm sorry. Truly."

"I know you are Steve."

"I will always love you; you know, that right?"

"I do. I will always love you in a way too."

He nods. "I hope you get to know me again." He mutters. "I hope I get to know you. Because I don't know you anymore either."

"Me too."

As you stand up to leave, to go to your almost room, you hear him sigh. "I loved you [Y/N]. And I hope I can learn to love you again."

"I loved you too Steve." You turn back at him. "And I hope I can learn to love again as well."

A/N 2: To clarify my statement of "You loved the girl. I am a woman now; I don't need saving." I don't mean that in a way of little girls need saving. I mean that in a way of maturity level. Meaning, that said person (character you) needed someone to take care of them in some way, shape or form. Now, said person (character you) doesn't, they can take care of themself.

~ Sam(antha)