#I just love James and Steve in 3 it's such a place of comfort to go to

[painterofhorizons]

„Did you notice?“ Steve Cortez was already up and moving by quite some time when James Vega crawled out of bed in the morning.

To James, it felt like that guy never slept. At all. Not a single hour. And it wasn‘t like James spent a long time in bed either, but Steve? It was a miracle how he was able to stand on his own two feet and still be the best damn shuttle pilot James ever met. Maybe he was not only that but a real physiological miracle, too. The first human to not need sleep or something. Or he was on really good drugs. Whatever it was, sometimes James caught himself being envious on that guy.

„Notice what, Esteban?“ James replied, still tired and not yet near to where his brain would be after he’d had his first coffee.

„That she‘s spending her nights in the Kodiak.“

„Who?“

Steve folded his arms and shot James an uncomprehending look. „The Commander?“

James shrugged. „Maybe you and her share the same parents. Seems none of you need sleep. Not like the super-loser-rest of us.“

Steve shook his head, but didn‘t expect James to actually be a real help here. Not before he had his coffee, or until it was a matter of life and death, or he would personally trip over the Commander in the Kodiak and break his toe. „I don‘t think she‘s working there at night, Jimmy.“

„But?“

„Sleeping.“

James snorted, a he shuffled past Steve to reach the coffee maker. „Why would she sleep in the Kodiak?“

It wasn‘t like James actually didn‘t care about this or that he hadn‘t noticed. Of course he had noticed. Nothing stayed a secret in his cargo bay. But he knew the Commander, and he knew she wouldn‘t want this to be made a matter of public interest. Not even between Steve and himself. He had been a witness to her sleeping troubles back on Earth for months, and he had soon learned to not give it too much attention. Again, not that he didn‘t care. He felt for her, especially in this matter. He had seen it. She didn‘t just have some mild and minor annoying nightmares every now and then. He couldn‘t remember too many nights on Earth when she actually slept well and through. But in the end they all had those things that were haunting them in their sleep. He had his share, Steve had them, Shepard was no exception. One should rather worry about those who were able to sleep well these days.

„You really don‘t care?“ Steve raised his brows.

„You should know me better, Esteban.“ For a second, James pursed his lips, low-key annoyed that Steve would even consider that. Then he shrugged it off. „What do you wanna do? Pamper her?“

„No, James. But, I don‘t know, maybe get her a blanket? A pillow? I spend enough time in the Kodiak to know it‘s not the most comfortable place to sleep in.“ Steve knew this wasn‘t a big thing, and probably neither an important one, compared to what they were up to. But even the thought of sleeping in the Kodiak for more than one or two stranded nights gave him backache - and for Shepard it was a week now, if he counted right.

He‘d expected some kind of backtalk from James, but instead got some thoughtful silence and a slow nod. „Yeah. Yeah, I guess, that‘s kinda nice. Guess we could do that.“

There was a difference between not making a deal of something and completely ignoring it. And a blanket and a pillow probably wouldn‘t fall in the category of pampering the Commander against her will.

[brunchable]

LAZARUS SERUM || Steve Rogers x F!Reader

Part I

Part Two | Part Three Words: 8.5K Themes: Very Angsty?, Break-up, Violence, Kidnapped, Super Human transformation, Action, Attempted Assault, Lovers to Enemies, Enemies to Lovers. Summary: Set in 1942. Steve allowed being a Super Soldier inflate his ego. After a breaking up with Steve, your world shatters then you're abducted and subjected to a mysterious experiment. A/N: I was washing the dishes when this came to me. I thought Y/N was really BADASS at the end. Baby girl is bad bitch, she on Fire. Paint the town red can be her song. A reblog would be noice <3

The sun was setting over Brooklyn, casting long shadows across the streets. You and Steve walked side by side, your fingers intertwined, the cool breeze of the evening wrapping around you both. Steve’s small hand fit perfectly in yours, a comforting reminder of the years you had spent together, supporting each other through thick and thin. 

It wasn’t easy being with him, especially with how the world treated him—just a scrawny, sickly guy who never knew when to give up. 

Your parents disapproved and your friends laughed at you for choosing Steve over James. You always tell Steve, ‘If they laugh, then fuck'em all.’

He has a good heart and you loved him for it— for his determination, his kindness, and his unwavering sense of right and wrong.

As you walked, a heavy silence hung between you. The reason was clear: James or known as Bucky Barnes, was shipping out to fight in the war. The three of you had been inseparable, a trio bound by shared history and deep affection. But now, Bucky was leaving, and the thought of losing him weighed heavily on your heart.

“Well, I guess this is it. I’m heading out tomorrow.” Bucky finally stopped and turned to you both, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. 

You nodded, trying to keep the sadness from showing on your face. “It’s not going to be the same without you, Bucky.”

He gave a small chuckle, though it lacked its usual warmth. “You’ll manage. You’ve got this punk to keep you busy.” He playfully nudged Steve, who smiled weakly in return.

“I should be going with you, Bucky,” Steve said, his voice tight with emotion.

“You’re gonna be fine, Steve. You’ve got that heart of yours, and that’s stronger than any muscle.” Bucky’s expression softened, and he reached out, placing a firm hand on Steve’s shoulder. He turned to you, his gaze filled with concern. 

“And you, Y/N… take care of him, will ya? Someone’s gotta keep him out of trouble.”

You forced a smile, swallowing the lump in your throat. “I will, Bucky. I promise.”

Bucky pulled you into a tight hug, holding you for a moment longer than necessary. When he finally let go, he clasped hands with Steve, their handshake lingering as they both tried to hold onto the moment.

“Don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone,” Bucky said, trying to lighten the mood.

Steve gave a small laugh, but it was strained. “No promises.”

With one last look at both of you, Bucky nodded, then turned and walked away, his figure disappearing into the distance. 

As he left, the weight of his absence settled over you like a thick fog. The world suddenly felt colder, emptier without Bucky’s presence.

“He’ll be okay,” Steve said quietly, more to himself than to you, as you both stood there in silence, watching Bucky disappear.You leaned into Steve, seeking comfort in his presence. 

“I hope so. I don’t know what we’ll do if something happens to him.” Steve squeezed your hand, trying to be reassuring. 

“He’s strong. He’ll make it back.” But deep down, both of you knew there were no guarantees in war.

× × × × 

A few weeks later, the day finally came when Steve received his enlistment notice. You were there when he got the news, a mixture of pride and worry swirling in your chest. He had finally done it—he was going to fight in the war, just like Bucky. But that also meant he was leaving you behind, just like Bucky.

“I can’t believe it,” Steve said, staring at the paper in his hands, his voice filled with excitement. “I’m actually going.”

You smiled, though it was bittersweet. “I knew you would. You’re the most determined person I’ve ever met, Steve. They’d be crazy not to let you in.”

 “I couldn’t have done it without you, Y/N. You’ve always believed in me, even when I didn’t believe in myself.” Steve looked up at you, his expression softening.

You reached out and took his hand, squeezing it gently. “I’m so proud of you, Steve. You’re going to do great things. Just… promise me you’ll be careful.”

Steve’s eyes were filled with emotion as he pulled you into a tight embrace. “I promise, Y/N. I’ll come back to you. I swear.”

But as you held him, a deep sadness settled over you. First Bucky, now Steve—everyone you cared about was leaving, going off to fight a war that seemed so far removed from your life in Brooklyn. You couldn’t help but feel a sense of dread, a fear that things would never be the same again.

× × × × 

The day Steve came back from the super-soldier program, everything changed. You had waited anxiously for news, praying that everything would go smoothly, that he would come back to you safe and sound. When you finally saw him again, it was nothing like you imagined.

The first time you laid eyes on the new Steve Rogers was outside a government building, where a crowd had gathered. You pushed your way through, eager to see him after weeks of silence. When you finally spotted him, your breath caught in your throat.There he was—tall, muscular, and impossibly different. The boy you once knew was gone, replaced by a man who exuded power and confidence. It was Steve, and yet it wasn’t.

“Steve!” you called out, your voice lost in the noise of the crowd. You tried to make your way toward him, but the throng of people pushed you back, jostling you aside as they clamored for a closer look at the hero.

Steve seemed oblivious to the crowd around him, focused entirely on the conversation he was having with a woman by his side—Peggy Carter. You had heard about her, of course, but seeing them together was different. There was an ease between them that made your heart sink.

“Steve!” you called out again, louder this time, but he didn’t hear you—or if he did, he didn’t acknowledge it. You watched as Peggy leaned in closer, her hand resting on his arm in a way that felt far too familiar.

Then, as if in slow motion, you saw Steve get into a car with her, leaving you standing alone in the crowd, feeling completely invisible.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He was supposed to see you, to run to you, to hold you in his arms like he always did. But instead, he was driving away with someone else, and you were left behind, forgotten.

× × × ×

A few weeks pass by with not one word from Steve, the last time you heard his voice was on the radio, giving a speech that would motivate the soldiers out there or in the newspaper. You were sitting by the window, reading a book while your cat rested peacefully on your lap. Then, there was a knock at the door. You kept your ears attentive, though your eyes were focused somewhere else.

You heard your mother answer it, and you listened as she exchanged a few words with whoever was at the door. A moment later, she called out to you, “Y/N, there’s a soldier here to see you.”

You furrowed your brow in confusion as you walked toward the door. A soldier? Why would—?

As you reached the doorway, your breath caught in your throat. There, standing in the threshold, was Steve Rogers, but not the Steve you remembered. He was taller, broader, wearing an army uniform that fit him perfectly, and his entire presence seemed… different. The frail, sickly boy you had known was gone, replaced by a man you barely recognized.

“Do you know this gentleman, dear?” Your mother, still standing by the door, looked between you and Steve, clearly confused. 

“It’s me, Mrs. L/N, Steve Rogers.” Steve gave her a warm smile, his voice deeper than you remembered. 

Your mother blinked, looking Steve up and down before recognition finally dawned on her face. “Steve? My goodness, look at you! I didn’t even recognize you. You look… Well, you look like a different person altogether!”

“Yes, he… he certainly does.” You forced a smile, still trying to process the fact that he's standing there. 

“Well, I’ll leave you two to catch up. I’ll be in the kitchen if you need anything.” Your mother gave you a strange look as she walked past, heading back into the house. 

The heck was that about?

As she disappeared into the other room, you turned your attention back to Steve, your heart pounding. You looked up at him, which was something you weren't used to. He's so. . .tall.

“Steve… is that really you?”

“It’s me, Y/N,” Steve replied, his voice deeper than you remembered. “I’m sorry I haven’t been in touch. Things have been… crazy in the last couple of days.”

“I’m just glad you’re okay.” You nodded, trying to hide your disappointment.

Steve smiled, a hint of the old Steve you knew shining through. “I’m more than okay. I want to make it up to you. How about I take you out to dinner tonight? Just the two of us.”

Your heart lifted at the thought. Maybe this was your chance to reconnect, to get back to the way things were. 

“I’d like that,” you said softly. “I’d like that a lot.”

“Listen, I need to go back but I'll see you at our favorite spot? Six-thirty?” He reaches for your hands and kissed the back of it. 

“I’ll be there,” you chuckled at his romantic gesture.

“Don’t keep me waiting.” He winks at you, and you couldn’t help but giggle. This new playful side of him, got you hooked like a fish.

× × × ×

“Good evening, Ma'am. Do you have a reservation for tonight?” the hostess asked politely, her hands poised over the guest book.

“Yes. Steve Rogers?”

The hostess scanned the list, her finger trailing down the page. “Table 11. Right this way.” She smiled warmly and gestured for you to follow.

Your heart quickened as you anticipated seeing Steve, but when you reached the table, your smile faltered. The chair opposite you was empty. The hostess pulled it out for you, and with a quiet sigh, you sat down, your eyes flickering anxiously toward the door.

“Can I offer you any refreshments?” 

“Not at the moment.”

“No problem. Let us know if you need anything.” With a nod, she left you alone, leaving the weight of the evening to settle over you.

Minutes turned into an hour, and you found yourself glancing at the door every time it opened, only to be met with disappointment as someone other than Steve entered. As the hours passed, your hope began to wane, replaced by a growing knot of irritation in your chest.

But as the hours ticked by, your hope began to fade. The restaurant was closing, and still, there was no sign of him. The waitstaff was cleaning up around you, giving you sympathetic looks as you sat there alone, trying to hold back the tears.

The restaurant was winding down, the waitstaff quietly cleaning up around you. Their sympathetic looks were hard to ignore as you sat alone, struggling to keep your emotions in check. You felt a lump in your throat, your eyes stinging as you blinked back tears.

“Miss, I don’t mean to be rude, but we’re closing,” a waiter said gently, approaching you with a cautious smile.

You nodded, trying to muster some semblance of dignity, “I’m so sorry. I’ll be on my way.” You snuffled and smiled as you got up from your seat. Getting up alone was hard, the weight of embarrassment was weighing you down. 

Just as you turned to leave, the door swung open. Steve rushed in, his face flushed and hair slightly disheveled. “Y/N, I’m so sorry,” he blurted out, hurrying over to you. “I got caught up in something important. I didn’t mean to be late.”

The staff paused in their work, their eyes shifting between you and Steve. There stood the dashing soldier, looking every bit the hero in his crisp uniform, yet here he was, unmistakably late. As their gazes turned to you in your lavender shirtwaist dress, it was clear they understood why you had waited so long.

“It’s eleven.” Your voice seethed after glancing at your watch, noticing a red smudge on his collar, “They’re closed. Let’s talk outside.”

Without waiting for a response, you cleared your throat and walked out, brushing past him intentionally to make your anger known. Steve followed closely behind, sensing the storm brewing between you two. This was the first time he had been this late, and you were struggling to decide whether to forgive him easily or let him feel the full weight of your emotions.

“Steve, where were you? I waited for hours,” you said, trying to keep your voice whole, this feeling like you were losing him is foreign and hard to keep internally.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I got caught up with something… important.” Steve barely met your gaze, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. 

“More important than us?” The words slipped out before you could stop them, the pain of being pushed aside finally surfacing.

Steve sighed, his shoulders slumping. “It’s not like that. You know I’m trying to do the right thing. There’s so much going on, and I—”

“Forgot about me?” You didn’t want to be this person, but the loneliness and the fear of losing him had been building up for too long. Without Bucky around, you had no one to turn to, no one to share this burden with. “I understand that you have responsibilities now, but you made a promise.”

He finally looked at you, guilt flashing in his eyes. “Y/N, I’m not leaving you behind. I just. . . things are different.”

“I can see that,” you said, you look at him from head to toe. The man standing in front of you wasn’t the same Steve who used to hold you and make you feel like the most important person in the world. This was someone else, someone who had outgrown you, “You’ve changed, and I’m not talking about your appearance.”

“I’m still me, Y/N. But now, I have responsibilities, people who rely on me.” Steve looked down, guilt flashing in his eyes. 

“And what about me?” you asked, the hurt evident in your voice. “Do I even matter anymore, or was I just someone to keep you company when you had nothing else?”

“Don’t say that,” Steve replied quickly out of spite, “Maybe… maybe you were only with me because you felt sorry for me. For who I was.”

His words cut deep, and you recoiled as if he had struck you. “You think I was with you out of pity? Is that what you believe?”

“I don’t know,” Steve said, his voice strained.

“How could you think that?” you said, your voice rising with a mix of anger and hurt. “I was with you because I love you, Steve. Not because I felt sorry for you. I believed in you, and I loved you for who you were, not because of what you couldn’t do or how you appear.”

“I’m just not sure where I fit in this new world, and I’m not sure where you fit in it either. I'm trying to wo—”

Your chest began feeling tight because of his words. You had always known that things would change after the serum, but you never expected him to question your feelings like this. 

“So, what are you saying? That there’s no place for me in your life anymore? That I don’t belong because you’ve become someone else?” You emphasized his structure with your hand.

Steve shook his head, looking frustrated. “I don’t know what I’m saying. I just… I feel like we’re both hanging on to something that’s already gone.”

“Already gone? Nothing was gone, at least not on my part.” Tears welled up in your eyes, but you fought to keep your voice from cracking, “Is there someone else? Is that why you’re looking for a way out?”

“No! Of course not. It's because for once in myself I feel like I'm worth something,” he said, running a hand through his hair.

The finality of his words hit you like a punch to the gut. You had fought so hard to hold onto him, to keep the love between you alive, but now it felt like you were losing that battle. You had wanted him to stay tonight, to make things right, but now you weren’t sure if there was anything left to salvage.

Finally, you couldn’t take it anymore. You turned away, the tears you had been holding back finally spilling over. 

“You know what? Just… go, Steve. Do whatever it is you have to do. I will not think less of myself just because you do not know how to love me anymore.” you said, your voice heavy with resignation.

“Y/N…” Steve’s voice was soft, filled with regret, but you couldn’t face him. Not now.

“Please, Steve. Just go.”

What you really wanted to say was, “Please stay. Show me that I still matter to you.” But you couldn’t bring yourself to say it. You were too afraid that he wouldn’t fight for you, and the thought of that was too painful to bear.

Steve hesitated, his eyes wandering as if trying to find the right words. He just stood there, saying nothing. 

You took a deep breath, your heart pounding as you walked closer to him, his face softening as you reached up and gently adjusted his collar. Your fingers brushed against the fabric, lingering just a moment longer than necessary. 

Then, in the calmest voice you could muster, you said, “Lemon helps with removing lipstick stains.”

Steve’s eyes widened in panic, his hand instinctively reaching up to touch the spot where your fingers had been.

“Y/N, I seriously don't know how this got here—” he began and it almost sounded genuine, his voice filled with panic as he tried to close the distance between you.

But you took a step back, your eyes now red and brimming with tears. You raised a hand to stop him, your voice breaking as you sobbed deeply, “Don’t. Just… don’t.”

Steve’s heart shattered at the sight of you sobbing, your pain a statement in every tear that fell. His instinct was to reach out, to hold you, but your outstretched hand and the heartbreak in your eyes kept him rooted to the spot.

If Bucky were here… The thought pierced his mind like a knife, and suddenly, jealousy coursed through him, hot and irrational. Bucky. The one person who had always managed to make you smile, even when he couldn’t. The one who could draw out your laughter with just a word, a look. The one who, despite being his best friend, had always been a shadow in the corner of Steve’s mind when it came to you.

Was it easier with Bucky? Did you love Bucky more than him? Had you ever thought of Bucky in ways that Steve couldn’t bear to imagine?

“You should’ve just chosen Bucky.” Steve muttered and with one last, tortured look at you, Steve turned away, his steps. He walked away, leaving you standing there, your tears flowing freely now. He didn’t look back, too afraid of what he might see if he did.

Your breath caught in your throat, the shock of his words slicing through the already unbearable pain. You stared at him, wide-eyed, unable to process the bitterness in his voice, the finality of his statement.

The Steve you had known was gone. You didn’t know if looking for him would be worth it because you knew how it would feel—it would feel like reaching for smoke.

Heartbroken and feeling more isolated than ever, you decided to walk home alone. Your cries echoes the street, water gushing out of your eyes like it’s being released by a dam. The echo of your footsteps on the empty streets was a haunting reminder of just how alone you felt. Steve had left, and with him, it felt like a part of your heart had been ripped away.

Steve’s words replayed in your mind, cutting deeper with every repetition. The idea that he thought you might have been with him out of pity or that you're better off with Bucky was a knife to your heart, twisting with every breath.

The streets of Brooklyn were eerily quiet, the usual bustle replaced by an unsettling stillness. The lamps cast long, distorted shadows across the pavement, and every sound seemed amplified in the silence. You quickened your pace, trying to escape the weight of your thoughts, but it was no use. 

As you turned down a narrow street, the familiar surroundings suddenly felt foreign and oppressive. You hugged your coat tighter around you, your mind racing with a mixture of fear and despair. Ahead, the road forked into two directions—one leading to your home, the other into an even darker, narrower alley. You turned towards home, your heart pounding as you tried to shake the feeling of being watched.

Then, without warning, you heard the screech of tires on the asphalt. Before you could react, a van skidded to a stop in front of you, its headlights blinding in the dark street. The doors flew open, and three men in dark clothing jumped out, their faces obscured by shadows.

Panic surged through you as you spun on your heel, trying to run, but it was too late. They were on you in an instant, their grips like iron as they dragged you towards the van.

“No! Let me go! Help! Please someone!” you screamed, thrashing against their hold, but your voice was swallowed by the night, and the empty streets offered no help. Your heart raced, the fear consuming you as you struggled with the best you can.

A cloth was suddenly pressed against your mouth and nose, and a sickly sweet smell filled your senses. You tried to hold your breath, to fight against the drowsiness that quickly overtook you, but it was no use. The world around you started to blur, your vision darkening as your body went limp.

The last thing you heard before everything went black was the sound of the van doors slamming shut and the dull roar of the engine as it sped away into the night.

× × × ×

DAY ONE

When you woke, the world was a haze of pain and confusion. The first thing you noticed was the cold metal pressing against your back, you were naked. Your wrists and ankles were strapped to a metal table, the restraints biting into your skin. Panic clawed at your chest as you struggled against the bonds, but they held firm, keeping you pinned down.

Your vision was blurry, your head pounding from whatever they had used to knock you out. Slowly, the room around you came into focus—bare, clinical, with walls of stark white. You weren’t in Brooklyn anymore. You weren’t anywhere you recognized.

You heard voices, cold and detached, speaking in hushed tones. You couldn’t make out the words, but the tone sent chills down your spine. Footsteps approached, and a shadow loomed over you.

A man’s face came into view, his expression devoid of any warmth or compassion. “She’s awake. Prepare the serum.”

The word “serum” sent a jolt of fear through you, and you renewed your struggles, trying to break free. But the restraints didn’t budge, and the man paid no attention to your terror or the muffled screams that bounced off the walls.

You felt a sharp prick in your arm as they injected something into your veins. Immediately, a searing pain shot through your body, like liquid fire burning through every nerve. You tried to scream, but your voice was caught in your throat, choked off by the agony that consumed you.

The pain was unbearable and you could feel your body convulsing on the table, your muscles seizing as the serum spread through you. It felt like your entire being was being torn apart, every cell screaming in protest. You began to foam in the mouth, the scene your captors watched was like out of an exorcist movie.

And then… nothing. The world around you went dark, and you slipped into unconsciousness, the pain finally giving way to merciful oblivion.

“Sir, should we stop?” One of them said, “Her vital signs are getting dangerously out of limits, she might go into cardiac arrest.”

“No, keep going until that last vial is finished. I want to see what’ll happen. Then we repeat until there’s signs of success.” 

DAY TWO

You awoke to the sensation of your body being dragged, rough hands gripping your arms as they pulled you across the cold, unforgiving floor. Your vision was clouded, your mind struggling to grasp onto reality as the fog of unconsciousness began to lift. Every inch of you ached, a dull, throbbing pain that seemed to seep into your very bones.

As you were hoisted back onto the metal table, the cold surface pressed against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. The restraints clamped down on your wrists and ankles once more, their cruel bite familiar by now. The room around you was still the same—sterile, white, and devoid of any humanity.

You tried to speak, but your throat was on dry and on fire, your voice barely a whisper. "Please... stop..."

Your plea fell on deaf ears. The figures in lab coats moved around you with the same clinical detachment as before, their faces obscured by surgical masks. One of them approached, holding a clipboard, his eyes scanning the data as if you were nothing more than a lab rat.

"Her vitals stabilized overnight," he said, his tone matter-of-fact. "But... the readings are inconsistent. I'm not sure if the serum is taking effect."

The man from before—the one who had ordered the serum—stepped into view, his expression as cold and unreadable as ever. He leaned over you, his eyes scrutinizing your face with a mix of curiosity and impatience.

"Let's see if she can handle more," he said, his voice flat, giving nothing away.

Panic surged through you, your heart racing as you remembered the excruciating pain from the day before. You tried to struggle, but your body was too weak, too drained from the torment they had already inflicted on you.

The man nodded to one of his colleagues, who approached with another syringe, the liquid inside glowing with an ominous, sickly hue. You watched in horror as the needle approached your arm, every muscle in your body tensing with dread.

"No... no, please..." you begged, your voice breaking.

But they didn't stop. The needle pierced your skin once again, and the liquid fire coursed through your veins, more intense than before. The pain was immediate, searing through you like a thousand white-hot knives. You thrashed against the restraints, your screams tearing through the air, but there was no escape from the agony.

The world around you blurred as the pain became all-consuming, every nerve in your body ablaze. You could feel your heart pounding erratically, your vision darkening at the edges. It was too much, too overwhelming.

But this time, there was no merciful oblivion waiting for you. The pain persisted, dragging you down into a nightmare from which there was no escape. Your body convulsed violently, your muscles seizing as the serum wreaked havoc within you.

The voices around you became distant, muffled by the roaring in your ears. You couldn't make out what they were saying, but their tone was one of cold observation, detached from the suffering they were causing.

"Her body's reacting... but the patterns aren't consistent. It’s hard to tell if it’s working or if she’s just... rejecting it."

"Increase the dosage," the man ordered, his eyes narrowing slightly as he watched your writhing form. "We need to push her further. If there's any sign of success, we'll see it soon enough."

"But sir," one of the lab technicians hesitated, his voice uncertain. "If we push too hard, she might not survive the next round. The readings are already erratic—she could go into shock or worse."

"That’s a risk I’m willing to take," the man replied coldly. "We won’t know until we push her limits."

Your heart sank at his words. There was no end to this. They were going to keep pushing, keep testing, until either the serum took hold of your body or gave out entirely.

As you lay there, barely conscious, the pain began to ebb slightly, leaving you trembling and drenched in sweat. Your breaths came in ragged gasps, your chest heaving as you tried to cling to consciousness.

"Prepare the next dose," the man ordered, his voice devoid of any empathy.

This time, your heart sank even deeper. The nightmare wasn’t just beginning—it was accelerating, and there was no way out. You were trapped in this hell, at the mercy of those who saw you as nothing more than an experiment, a means to an end. And whether or not the serum was taking effect, you knew that whatever happened next would push you to your breaking point—and beyond.

DAY EIGHTY

When you woke, the familiar chill of the metal table greeted you. The room was as stark and clinical as ever, but something had changed within you. The pain was still there, a constant, gnawing presence, but it no longer controlled you. You had become accustomed to it, numb to its bite. It was just another part of your existence now.

Eighty days.

Eighty days of torment, of relentless experimentation, of feeling your body and mind pushed to their breaking points and beyond. You had lost track of time somewhere around the third week, the days and nights blending into a seamless blur of agony and darkness. But even as the days passed, you remained conscious, aware—alive.

The door to the room opened, and you didn’t bother to turn your head. You knew who it was. The man with the cold eyes approached, his footsteps echoing on the hard floor. He had become a constant in your world, his presence as regular as the pain he inflicted. 

“You’re still with us, I see,” he remarked, his tone as detached as ever. He moved closer, inspecting the restraints that held you down. “Most impressive.”

You didn’t respond. You hadn’t spoken in days—there was nothing left to say. Every word, every plea had fallen on deaf ears. You had learned long ago that silence was your only companion in this hell.

“Her vitals are stronger,” a technician noted, glancing at the monitors that tracked your every heartbeat. “We’ve noticed a significant increase in her strength and resilience. The serum seems to be taking effect.”

The man nodded, though there was no satisfaction in his expression. “Eighty days,” he mused, as if talking to himself. “Eighty days, and you’re still here. Stronger, faster… more than we ever anticipated.”

He turned his gaze to you, his eyes narrowing slightly. “But are you in control, I wonder? Or has the serum taken control of you?”

His words hung in the air, but you didn’t flinch. The battle for control was something you fought every day, every hour. The serum coursing through your veins had changed you in ways you couldn’t fully understand yet, but you were still you—or so you told yourself.

“Let’s see if we can push it further,” he said, signaling to the technician.

The restraints were released, and you felt the cold metal slide away from your wrists and ankles. You didn’t move, not yet. You had learned to conserve your strength, to hold back until the moment was right.

“Sit up,” he commanded.

You obeyed, slowly raising yourself into a seated position. Your movements were deliberate, controlled. You could feel the power coursing through your body, every muscle coiled with potential energy, but you kept it in check.

The man stepped back, giving you space, watching you closely. “Stand.”

You slid off the table, your bare feet touching the cold floor. You stood, swaying slightly as the blood rushed to your head. But you remained upright, your gaze locked on the man who had been your tormentor for nearly three months.

“Walk,” he ordered, his voice carrying a hint of curiosity.

You took a step forward, then another. Your legs were shaky at first, but you quickly found your balance. Each movement felt strange, foreign, as if you were inhabiting a body that wasn’t entirely your own. But you continued, step after step, until you were standing directly in front of him.

“Good,” he said, nodding approvingly. “Very good.”

He reached out, placing a hand on your shoulder. The touch was light, almost gentle, but you could sense the underlying threat in it. “Now, let’s see just how far we can take this.”

You didn’t react as he motioned for the guards to step forward, their weapons at the ready. You knew what was coming next. This was another test, another attempt to push you beyond your limits.

The guards surrounded you, their faces expressionless, their grips tight on their weapons. The man gave a slight nod, and they moved as one, striking out at you with calculated precision.

But this time, you were ready. The serum had done its work. You were faster, stronger, and as their blows came toward you, you reacted with a speed that surprised even you. You deflected the first strike with ease, the second with even greater efficiency. Your movements were fluid, instinctual, a dance of power and precision.

Within moments, the guards were on the ground, groaning in pain, their weapons scattered across the floor. You stood over them, breathing heavily, your heart pounding with adrenaline. The power surging through you was intoxicating, overwhelming, but you were in control. For now.

The man watched you with a hint of something in his eyes—respect, maybe, or perhaps something more sinister.

“Yes,” he murmured, more to himself than to you. “This is what we’ve been waiting for.”

You stood there, the blood rushing in your ears, your body alive with the thrill of what you had just done. But beneath it all, there was a gnawing sense of unease. You had changed, become something different, something more. But at what cost?

As the guards were dragged away, the man turned to you once more. “Eighty days,” he repeated, a slight smile playing on his lips. “And now, the real work begins.”

You didn’t respond. You had nothing left to say. The battle was far from over, and as you looked into the cold, calculating eyes of your captor, you knew that whatever came next would push you even further into the darkness.

But you were ready. Because after eighty days of hell, you had learned one thing—you would survive, no matter what.

DAY 100

The pain had reached a point where it was almost surreal, as if your mind had detached itself from your body to protect what was left of your sanity. You lay strapped to the cold metal table, your skin clammy, your breaths shallow. The serum that had been forced into your veins was taking its final toll. Your vision blurred, the edges of your world darkening as you teetered on the brink of consciousness.

The man with the cold eyes stood over you, his expression hard as he watched the monitors tracking your vitals. He had been relentless, pushing the experiments further each day, determined to force the serum to work. But today, something was different. The lines on the monitor were becoming erratic, your heart rate spiking and dipping unpredictably.

"Her vitals are deteriorating rapidly," a technician warned, his voice tinged with anxiety. "She's not stabilizing. We should stop."

The man clenched his jaw, his eyes narrowing. "We’re too close. Increase the dosage."

"But sir, she won't survive—"

"Do it!" he barked, cutting off the protest.The technician hesitated for a moment before injecting you with another dose of the glowing serum. The liquid fire surged through your veins, and the world around you exploded into pain once again. But this time, it was different—this time, your body couldn’t take it.

You convulsed violently on the table, the restraints digging into your skin as your body fought a losing battle. Your vision darkened further, the room around you fading into an indistinct blur. Your heart pounded wildly in your chest, a desperate rhythm that couldn’t keep pace with the assault on your system.

And then, it stopped. The world around you went silent. your life flashed before your eyes, beginning with the warmth of your childhood—the comforting embrace of your mother as she read you stories at night, the sound of her laughter filling your small apartment in Brooklyn. You remembered the day you met Steve, the shy, awkward boy who had tripped over his own feet trying to impress you, and Bucky’s teasing grin as he nudged Steve forward, encouraging him to finally ask you out. There were memories of long summer days spent in the park, the three of you inseparable, sharing ice cream and dreams of the future.

But then, the memories shifted. The warmth drained away as you saw Steve walking away from you, his back turned, his footsteps echoing in the empty space between you. . .

“Dispose of the body.”

× × × ×

D - 100

When you woke up this time, you weren’t in the cold, sterile room. Instead, you were lying in an alley, discarded like trash. The hard, wet pavement was unforgiving against your body, and the chill in the air bit through your clothes. You don’t know what day or even month it was.

Your once neat and tidy outfit was now torn and filthy, covered in grime and dirt from the alleyway. The lavender shirtwaist dress you had worn so proudly earlier was now barely recognizable, stained with mud and who knows what else.

Your hair, once carefully styled, was now a tangled mess, strands sticking to your face, damp with sweat and the moisture of the night. You could feel the grit and dirt under your nails, the remnants of your struggle to free yourself from whatever hellish place you had been held. Your hands were scraped and raw, the skin broken and bleeding in places.

Your face felt gritty, as if you’d been dragged through the dirt. As you lifted a hand to touch your cheek, you could feel the rough texture of dried blood and dirt clinging to your skin. Your body aches all over, every muscle sore from the strain of whatever had been done to you. The cold dusk air bit into your exposed skin, making you shiver as you struggled to push yourself up from the ground.

The street was dimly lit, the sound of distant traffic the only sign of life around you. The once-familiar streets of Brooklyn now felt alien and hostile, and in your current state, you felt like a ghost haunting the city you once knew.

You stood there, shivering and alone, the reality of your situation sank in. Whoever had taken you had done something to you—something that had changed you. But they had deemed you a failure, or perhaps an afterthought, and simply left you to fend for yourself.

You felt stronger, different, but the overwhelming sense of abandonment weighed heavily on your heart. You looked down at your hands, trembling as you tried to comprehend what had happened to you.

Just as you began to move, your disheveled appearance caught the attention of a group of men lurking in the shadows. They saw an easy target—someone weak, vulnerable, alone. Their eyes locked onto you, and you could feel their gazes crawling over you like a predator sizing up its prey. But they had no idea what they were about to face.

“Hey, look what we got here,” one of them called out, his voice dripping with malice. He stepped forward, a smirk spreading across his face as he took in your bedraggled state. “You look like you’ve had a rough night, sweetheart.”

Another man snickered, his eyes narrowing as he moved to block your path. “Where you headed in such a hurry? We could keep you company.”

The men began to circle you, cutting off any chance of escape. Their leers and mocking laughter echoed off the walls of the alley, making your skin crawl. You backed away, your heart racing, but they kept closing in, their intent all too clear.

One of them reached out to grab your arm, but before his hand could make contact, something snapped inside you. The fear that had gripped you earlier was replaced by a cold, detached resolve. 

With a sudden burst of strength, you lashed out, your fist connecting with the man’s jaw. The impact sent him reeling backward, blood spurting from his mouth. He stumbled, crashing into a pile of trash cans with a loud clatter, his smug expression replaced by shock.

The other men hesitated, their bravado faltering as they realized you were not the helpless victim they had assumed. But their hesitation quickly turned to anger, and they surged forward, determined to make you pay for their friend’s humiliation.

But they didn’t stand a chance.

With a newfound power surging through your veins, you moved like a force of nature. You dodged their clumsy attempts to grab you, your movements fluid and precise. Every strike you landed sent them staggering back, their groans of pain filling the air.

One man lunged at you, his hands reaching for your throat, but you ducked under his grasp, spinning on your heel to deliver a powerful kick to his midsection. The force of the blow knocked the wind out of him, and he crumpled to the ground, gasping for breath.

Another man tried to grab you from behind, but you twisted out of his grip, your elbow slamming into his ribs with a sickening crack. He howled in pain, clutching his side as he fell to his knees.

The last man standing looked at you with wide, fearful eyes, his confidence shattered. “What the hell are you?” he stammered, backing away.

You stared at him, feeling that cold detachment settle over you once more. “Someone you should never have messed with,” you replied, your voice calm and steady.

Without another word, you stepped forward and struck him with a swift, powerful punch. He didn’t have time to react before he was sent crashing to the ground, unconscious.

As you stood there, surrounded by the groaning forms of the men who had tried to attack you, the reality of what you had just done began to sink in. You had taken them down with ease, without even thinking. The fear that had gripped you earlier was gone, replaced by something else—something darker, more dangerous.

You looked down at your hands, trembling slightly as you tried to process what had just happened. They were bruised and dirty, knuckles bloodied from the fight, but they were steady, powerful. You weren’t the same person who had been taken from the streets and subjected to whatever hellish experiment had been done to you.

You were stronger now, and that strength came with a cold, hard edge that scared you as much as it empowered you.

But there was no time to dwell on it. You needed to get out of there, to find somewhere safe where you could figure out what had been done to you. You took a deep breath, steadying yourself before you began to walk away from the alley, leaving the men behind.

As you disappeared into the early morning light, the realization that you were truly alone settled in your heart. You had been discarded, left to fend for yourself. But you would survive this. You would become stronger, faster, more powerful than anyone who had ever underestimated you.

And if Steve had truly discarded you as well, if he had moved on and left you behind, then you would prove that you didn’t need him—or anyone else.

By the time the sun began to rise, you were no longer the same person who had waited at that restaurant, hoping for a fresh start. The flame that once burned brightly for Steve had turned to cold, hardened embers.

You vowed never to let anyone discard you again.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

As the sun climbed higher in the sky, you trudged through the streets, your skin a canvas of bruises and cuts, each one a testament to the brutality you had endured. The world around you seemed surreal, almost detached, as if you were walking through a twisted dream. 

People noticed you—how could they not? Their eyes lingered a fraction too long before they darted away, some filled with pity, others with fear or disgust. Concerned mothers pulled their children closer, shielding them from the sight of you as if you were a monster, something to be feared and avoided. Whispers followed you like a shadow, just out of earshot but thick with judgment, dripping with the cruelty of strangers who saw only the surface.

No one approached you. No one dared. The stares didn’t bother you. In fact, you welcomed them. Let them look, let them fear. You would not be pitied. You would not be scorned. If the world wanted to see you as a monster—then so be it. 

As you walked, a familiar part of town began to come into view. You knew these streets well, every crack in the sidewalk, every faded storefront. It had been a place of comfort, of familiarity—but now it felt foreign, like you were an intruder in a place that no longer belonged to you.

Then, through the blur of people, you saw her. Your mother. She stood on the corner, frantically handing out pieces of paper with your picture on them, her eyes scanning every face that passed by, desperate and searching

When her gaze landed on you, her expression shifted—first to shock, then to fear, relief, and heartbreak that hit you like a punch to the gut. Your heart clenched, a pang of pity slicing through the wall you’d built around yourself. You had steeled yourself against so much, but seeing her there, so fragile, so broken, was almost too much to bear.

“M-Mom?” Your voice cracked, a betrayal of the emotions you fought so hard to suppress. For a split second, you felt like yourself again, but then that cold voice in your head reminded you: no tears, no weakness.

She rushed toward you, disbelief widening her eyes, her hand trembling as she covered her mouth in shock.

“Y/N? Is that you?” she gasped, her voice trembling.

You stood there, rooted to the spot, unable to speak as she reached out to you. Her hands, trembling, cupped your face, her touch so familiar yet so foreign. Tears welled in her eyes as she took in your appearance.

“What… what happened to you?” she whispered, her voice barely holding together.

The tears in her eyes reflected the pain you had tried so hard to bury. But you couldn’t let it out—not now. Not after everything.

“I’m fine,” you managed to say, though the words felt hollow. You pulled away from her touch, the warmth of it almost too painful to bear.

“No, you’re not,” she insisted, her voice shaking as she looked you up and down, trying to understand what had happened to her daughter. “Who did this to you? Where have you been?”

You shook your head, the emotions churning inside you too chaotic to form into coherent thoughts.

“It doesn’t matter,” you replied, your voice colder than you intended. “I just need to go home.”

Your mother’s brow furrowed, as she looked at you with a mother’s instinctive fear. “No, we need to take you to the hospital. You need to be checked out, Y/N. You’re hurt—”

“No!” you snapped, the force of your voice startling both of you, desperation in your tone, “No hospitals, no police report.”

“Y/N, please. You need help. We have to tell someone—”

Help? No one helped. 

“I said no!” you repeated, your voice trembling with an intensity that silenced her. “They won’t help. They’ll just ask questions, questions I can’t answer. They won’t understand, Mom. No one will.”

“But, Y/N—”

“I don’t need a doctor. I don’t need the police. I just need to go home. Please, Mom… just take me home.” Your breath came faster, panic rising in your chest as the thought of being in a hospital, of facing the police and their endless probing, became unbearable. 

Her face crumpled with worry, but she didn’t press further. Instead, she wrapped her arms around you, holding you tightly as if trying to shield you from whatever had hurt you. 

Slowly, she nodded, though her worry was still palpable. “Okay. Okay, we’ll go home. But promise me… promise me that if you need help, you’ll let me know. Just… don’t shut me out.”

You nodded, but the motion felt distant, like it didn’t quite belong to you. “I promise,” you whispered, though even as the words left your mouth, they felt empty, a hollow reassurance to ease her fears.

× × × × 

The rain poured down like icy needles, but you barely felt it through your black raincoat. Across the street, through the glowing window, Steve and Peggy danced together, they danced together like a well-rehearsed melody, a song you had once known by heart but now could only hear as a distant echo. Their connection was a knife, twisting in the hollowed-out space where your heart used to be.

Your hands clenched into fists at your sides, your nails digging into your palms as you stood there, seething. Every drop of rain that pelted against your coat felt like a reminder of the cold, hard truth—you had been replaced. Forgotten. Left to rot in the streets while he found comfort in another’s arms.

Your anger simmered, bubbling up from the depths of your chest. You had been willing to fight for him, to stand by his side no matter what. But what had that loyalty gotten you? Abandonment. Betrayal? And now, as you watched them dance, that anger solidified into something colder, harder.

“Y/L/N.” a deep commanding voice called your name.

Two officials stood in the shadows, their presence barely registering as you finally tore your gaze away from the window. They weren’t there for the party—they were there for you. Without a word, you pushed past them and joined their side.

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

New House and A Cat » 40s Bucky Barnes

Pairings: Husband!Bucky Barnes x Wife/Pregnant!Reader with Alpine

Summary: Bucky and Y/N move into their new house with their cat and have a baby on the way.

Warnings: Fluff, language, nothing but cuteness, kissing, use of pet names

A/N: I was curious to know what it would be like if Alpine was in the 1940s🥰 I hope y’all like this🩵

Written on my phone. I’m sorry for any mistakes and typos.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

“Alpine, sweetie, you can’t be on the counter while we’re moving stuff in here.” You say, gently placing her on the floor.

Alpine meowed before walking over to the window and jumped up onto the window ledge and laid down. You smiled and looked at her for a moment before putting more dishes away. Bucky walked up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist, placing his hands on your 3 month baby bump that’s starting to show.

“Doll, what did I tell you about lifting things?” Bucky asks softly, kissing your cheek.

“James, I’m 3 months pregnant, not made of glass.” You say.

“It’s better to be safe than sorry, babydoll.” He says.

“Fine.” You sighed, finally giving in. “I’ll sit outside on the porch and watch my husband and his best friend move our stuff in our new house.” You say, turning around and kissed his lips.

“That’s more like it.” He says, kissing you once more.

You walked outside to the porch and sat on one of the chairs with Alpine following behind you. Alpine jumped up onto your lap and made herself comfortable as the two of you watched Bucky and Steve take stuff inside of the new house. You gently pet Alpine, luring her to sleep.

“How are my girls doing?” Bucky asks, walking over to you and Alpine.

“I’m doing good, but I think moving took a lot of Alpine today.” You say, looking down at Alpine who’s sleeping comfortably on your lap.

“What about our other little one?” He asks, placing a hand on your baby bump.

“Baby Barnes is doing amazing.” You say with a smile, placing a hand on top of his.

Bucky leaned down and kissed you passionately, his hand remaining on your baby bump.

“Sorry to interrupt your moment, but I should get going so you guys can get settled in.” Steve says.

“Thank you for helping out, Stevie.” You give him a smile. “I’d give you a hug, but I kinda can’t at the moment.” You say, referring to the sleeping cat on your lap.

“It’s ok.” He says, leaning over to give you a hug.

“Just know, you’re welcome to come over anytime you want.” You tell him.

“Thank you, Y/N.” He smiles. “See you guys later.” He says.

“Bye Stevie.” You smiled and waved.

“See you later, punk.” Bucky says to him.

After taking the rest of the day to get settled in the new house, you took a moment and walked around the house, admiring what you and Bucky have and what you two have to share with your baby when he or she is born.

“What’re you doing, babydoll?” Bucky asks, wrapping his arms around you from behind.

“Just taking a look around.” You tell him. “I can’t believe all of this is ours.” You say, turning your head to look at him.

“You better believe it, doll.” He kisses your lips. “In a few months, we’ll be sharing all of this with our little one.” He says, making you smile.

You turned around and wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him passionately. Bucky’s hand found their way to your waist and gently pulled you against his body. You two smiled against each other’s lips when Alpine rubbed against your legs, wanting to get in on the attention. You two pulled away from each other and Bucky bend down to pick her up.

“How’re you liking the new house, princess?” Bucky asks her, gently scratching behind her ear.

Alpine purrs in approval. You two smiled at her. Bucky put her down so she can explore the new house more. Bucky places his hands on your waist and gently pulled you against his body, your baby bump against his stomach.

“I love you so much, doll.” Bucky says before kissing you passionately.

“I love you more, Buck.” You say, smiling against his lips.

🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

-Bucky’s Doll

[justmeinadaze]

We're A Family Part 23 (Steddie X You)

Warnings: Dads Steddie/ Fem mom reader, SMUT, all the regular smut that comes with these three. ANGST, for me this is soft angst lol I said what I said. They run into the guys ex and Eddie deals with his emotions regarding her and the things she's said in the past, Ro struggles with the thought of her brother going away to college so the parents have to handle that. FLUFF, they love each other and their kids <3

Word Count: 3687

Series here

 Low whimpering and soft movements shook you from sleep as you rolled over to a sight you had seen many mornings in the past. Eddie was on top of Steve slowly riding him as the other boy softly smiled up at his blissed out face while languidly stroking his cock. You always wanted them to feel comfortable so you laid there quietly as you watched them like a work of art. 

“There you go, baby.”, Steve whispered. “Fuck, you take me so well.”

Threading his fingers in his husband’s hair, he pulled his lips to his own as Eddie panted against them. 

“Harder, Steve. Please.”

“Yeah? Is that you need, honey? I can do that for you.”

His large palms slide down the man’s back and grip his hips, thrusting up to meet his movements while he continued to bounce and roll his own waist above him. 

Both men smirked when they heard you heavily sigh, knowing you were awake.

“Good morning, sweetheart.”

“I bet it is.”, you tease as he bites his bottom lip. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“No interruption.”, Steve replies in his husky morning tone that you assume is what got the metalhead riled up. 

Lifting the boy from him, he turns Eddie to face you on his side as he wraps his arms around him, spooning him from behind as he slides back into his entrance and thrusts his hips at a steady but firm pace. 

After softly kissing your lips, the long-haired man rested his forehead on yours as he guided his fingers under your panties and through your core. 

“Fuck, baby, you’re so wet.”

Placing your palm over his own, you cling to him as he pushes his middle and ring fingers into your center, groaning when they clench around him at the sound of Steve’s heavy, strangled moans. 

“God, just like that, Steve. Shit.”, Eddie grunted as his hand matched the other boy’s rhythm.

“Oh, Eddie…”, you moan as his digits rapidly abuse your g-spot.

Taking ahold of his husband’s throat, Steve tilted his head back, kissing and nibbling on the man’s sweet spot as he thrust his release inside of him. While pumping Eddie’s cock with his hand, the metalhead folded into him as he came, trying to still focus on you as you guided his movements till your own release followed soon after. 

You watched with heavy eyes as they continued to softly kiss each other before pulling you closer to do the same. 

***

“Good job, Dylan!”, Steve cheered as his son hit the final homerun that ended the game with his school winning. You beamed as James clapped his tiny hands while Aurora danced in front of Eddie shouting her brother’s name in excitement. 

After the obligatory high fives to the other team and everyone congratulating him, your daughter ran down the bleachers meeting Dylan halfway and tackling him with a big hug as he lifted her off her feet.

“That was amazing, baby.”, you praise as he flashes you a big smile.

“Thanks, mom. Hey, Noah invited me to lunch but I told him I was hanging out with you guys today and I would ask if I could come over for dinner.”

“Is that a long-winded way of saying you want to spend the night with Noah?”, Eddie jokes making his son laugh as he nods.

“I’m fine with that, my love.”, you smile as you tilt up to kiss his cheek.

“Oh my god. Is that Edward Munson and Steven Harrington in front of me?”

The three of you recognized the female voice immediately as you froze in place by your car. Steve exhaled loudly as he turned first, coming face to face with their ex. 

“Hello Emily. Always a pleasure to see you.”

“Oh wow. Look at everyone in your family!”, she coos, her voice making you visibly cringe. “Is this the little boy I met before?!”

“Um, hi. I’m Dylan.” He extends his hand politely for her to shake making her giggle a bit too excitedly. 

“I don’t know if you remember me. I saw you at your talent show in elementary. My niece was the young lady who danced.”

“Ooooh yeah. I remember you a bit.”

“That’s actually why we are here now. She goes to the school you just slaughtered.”

“Well, Emily, it’s been great catching up. We’re just going to—”

Aurora cuts off her father as she wiggles out of her brother’s embrace and extends her own tiny palm to the lady in front of her. 

“Hello! I’m Aurora Munson-Harrington. It’s nice to meet you.”, she introduces with her big trademark smile. Before Emily can return the salutations, however, Eddie hastily lifted her in his arms, holding her away from his ex.

“Don’t touch my daughter.”

“Dylan, baby, why don’t you take Ro and James and get them buckled in, alright?”

Nodding, he grabbed the baby from your arms and tried to do the same with his sister but to his surprise his father wouldn’t let her go.

“Honey, it’s alright. Dylan won’t let anything happen to her.”, Steve soothed, comforting the man enough to release her from his hold. Rubbing his back, he tenderly kissed his cheek before turning his attention back to the woman in front of them. 

“I see you didn’t take my advice. I guess I was wrong though, huh. I mean it’s been what… ten years?”

“12.”, you reply with distain ready to leave her behind. 

“Was I also wrong about the genes? I’m guessing the girl came from Ed here? This is also new.”, she snarks as she points between the boys. “You two weren’t fucking when we were together.”

“Hm. Maybe because we didn’t feel comfortable being ourselves with you. Thankfully we found someone better. Come on, guys.”

As Steve tries to guide you both towards your vehicle, Eddie abruptly twists out of his embrace to face his ex. 

“My daughter is perfect. She’s smart, funny, beautiful, and very creative. She loves art and is incredibly kind almost to a fault. She’s not trash and neither was I. You made me feel like I didn’t deserve kids of my own but now I have three. Fuck you, Emily.”

Without waiting for her reply, he spins on his heels and marches towards the car.

***

Steve sighs from his spot on the couch as he watches Eddie lazily strum his guitar. He had been melancholy since everyone had gotten home choosing to remain in his own head for the time being. James was on the floor in front of him fast asleep as he sucked his thumb while you and Dylan were in the kitchen browsing for things online while Aurora nibbled on the rest of her lunch.

“This is a cute little place for you and Daisy. It’s right by the school to.”

“Can we afford it?”

“I don’t see why not as long as you two aren’t scarfing pizza every night.”, you giggle as he lightly shoves your shoulder. Your eyes scan over him taking in the young man before you. He had grown up so much and you still hadn’t dealt with the fact that soon he wouldn’t just be upstairs or in the living room but a few states away. “I’m going to miss you, weirdo.”

His grin grows as he circles his arm around you and kisses your cheek. 

“I’m going to miss you to, mom. I promise I’ll be here every holiday and a couple of weeks in the summer.”

“Where is Dylan going?”, Ro asked as she glanced your way.

“To college, sweetie, remember?”

“Yeah but… he’ll still be in the room next to mine…right?”

“Rara…”, her brother chuckled. “That would be a LONG drive every morning if I lived here. I’m moving in with Daisy to Virginia. I showed you on that map on my phone.”

Your mom Spidey sense began to sound off as her big chocolate eyes met yours before glaring at her brother. 

“Aurora, baby, it’s ok. Like he said, he’s still going to come visit us and—”

“NO! NO, YOU CAN’T LEAVE!”

Both men promptly appeared in the kitchen trying to assess the situation as it unfolded and began to spiral. 

“Ro, I don’t want to leave. I have to go to school—”

“Why do you HAVE to go so far away!?”

“I-I-I…”, he stumbled over his words as eyes pleaded with you guys for help. 

“Aurora, Dylan is moving with Daisy so they can go to school together.”, Steve tried to assist but it just made her huff as she jumped off her chair and slammed her little feet to the ground.

“I hate Daisy! And I hate you, Dylan! You’re mean!”

“Ro…”

Ignoring her brother, she turned and ran up the stairs banging her bedroom door shut for emphasis. 

“I got her.”

“No.”, Steve intercepted as he placed his palm on Eddie’s chest. “I know you’re not 100%. I can handle it.”

“Whatever.”, the metalhead sighed as he headed towards the entry way and threw on his jacket. 

“Hey, what does that mean?”

“It means, whatever, Steven.”

“I’m just trying to help.”

“Yeah, sure. As long as you’re the hero, right?”

“Eddie…” The man tried to reach for his arm to stop him but flinched when his husband pulled away angrily. 

“I can handle my kids. I can handle my parents and I sure as hell could have handled Emily!”

You and Steve watched with equally confused eyes as he matched his daughter’s tantrum, banging loudly out the front door. 

“Wait here, kid, ok?”

Dylan nodded at your instruction as you ran after Steve who promptly trailed frustratingly after the man he loved. 

“Eddie, what the fuck are talking about?! You did handle her today; extremely well in fact.”

“Thanks, Harrington. Glad I got your approval.”, he muttered under his breath, sighing as you skidded in front of him, blocking entry to his van. 

“Baby, you always shut down like this when it comes to her. I know you’re not mad at him or me. Just talk to us, Eddie, please.”

Tenderly, he kisses your forehead before firmly but gently moving you aside as he gets behind the wheel and drives off into the night.

##########

Eddie exhales heavily as he takes a long swig of the beer in his bottle. 

“Nick, another please.”

The man is startled when a hand pats his back and his son throws himself onto the stool beside him. 

“Dylan? How the hell did you get in here?”

“I don’t know if you noticed, dad, but this place isn’t restricted to people under 21 anymore.”, he smiles as he flashes him the big X on the back of his hand signaling he’s underage. “I don’t know if you two know this either but mom hates when you both leave like that when you’re upset. When you come home she’s going to pretend she’s not but…”

“How’s Ro?”

“I don’t know. She still won’t talk to me. Dad’s trying to calm her down but he’s having a bit of a meltdown himself. I mean the only one who’s not upset right now is James.”, the boy chuckles sullenly. “Can I ask what happened? Or does it involve taxes?”

They both laugh at the memory before Eddie leans back in his seat and stares into the void. 

“That woman we saw today… That’s Steve and I’s ex; the one right before your mom. It didn’t end well.” The metalhead told him the story they had told you many years ago after your first encounter with her. Dylan listened intently, absorbing his words and frowning when he told her about Emily never wanting his kids. 

“Fuck her.”, he swore making his father laugh as he spit some of his beer back into its bottle. “I mean come on. You’re a great dad and Aurora is absolutely wonderful.”

“Yeah, she is. You all are.”

“Can I ask why you felt like you needed to leave?”

Eddie sighs as he tries to figure out how to word what he’s feeling. 

“Growing up my parents made me feel like trash you throw away especially when my mom left me with my uncle. When we were dating Emily she made me feel the same. She wanted to throw me away and be with Steve. I, honestly, think you and your mom are the first people to not make me feel garbage you cast aside.”

“And Steve.” The metalhead’s eyes meet Dylan’s as he softly smiles. “Dad would have been that first non-Munson to do that.”

“Yeah…”

“And that makes you feel bad.”

“Jesus Christ, you little therapist. Yes, it makes me feel bad.”, he laughs. “Y/N has always been there and defended me which I love but Steve’s always gone that extra mile you know. Throwing himself on the preverbal sword so to speak. Usually, I just let him do his thing but, I don’t know, I guess Emily just really hurt me and I never really got to tell her to fuck off.”

“Why don’t you tell her now?”

Dylan gestures with his head and his father follows his eyeline just in time to see his ex sauntering their way. 

“I swear to God, like a fucking virus this woman. Nick! I’ll see you later.”, he announces as he throws money on the bar. 

“Hey Eddie. What are you doing out and about? Where’s Steve?”

“Steve is at home with our wife and other 2 kids. He’s spoken for Emily. Let it go.”

“Said the man who gave me shit in a stadium parking lot.”

The metalhead chuckles under his breath as he turns to face her. 

“See the only difference is Steve dumped your ass after you said everything you wanted to say. I never got that luxury. I came home from work and you were gone. I hope you know what you missed out on. All of my kids especially Aurora are amazing and my marriage between Y/N and Steve are way better than I could have ever dreamed. That could have been your life but you were too much of a selfish bitch to care about anyone except yourself.”

As both boys headed towards the parking lot, Emily drunkenly trailed behind. 

“Listen to you taking about marriage like what you have with of them is real.”, she spat. “Because of you, you denied Steve a real marriage with a real family! You’re the selfish one! I loved him, Eddie.”

“No, you didn’t. If you did you never would have asked him to abandon me!”, he growled. “We are best friends and you tried to split us apart. The fact that you thought he would even consider that shows how little you knew about him. Y/N never once tried to separate us and even encouraged our relationship allowing it to grow. I love him, Emily.”

Grabbing his son, he yanked him towards the van tossing him his keys. 

#############

When they got home, the house was quiet with most of the lights turned down except in the kitchen where you and Steve were sitting knocking back small glasses of alcohol you hid in the cabinet for occasions such as this. 

Dylan patted his father comfortingly on the back before running up the stairs to get ready for bed. 

“Eddie.”, you sighed in relief as you got up to hug him. “Are you ok, baby? We were so worried—”

The metalhead’s lips cut you off as he cupped your cheeks and passionately kissed you. 

“I told you once that after Emily, Steve and I thought we couldn’t do the shared partner thing but, sweetheart, I’m so glad we did. Everything we have is because of you. Our kids, this house, our jobs, even Steve and my relationship. You never once made us feel like we had to choose or discouraged it. You allowed us to be ourselves and I fucking love you for that.”

Tilting forward, you kissed him again, continuing to hold him tightly as he addressed his husband.

“I’m sorry I snapped at you. Steve, since I met you, you’ve always gone the extra mile for people you love. Sometimes… it makes me feel bad that you dive headfirst into certain situations allowing yourself to take those bullets for me.”

Coming around the table, Steve wrapped his arms around you both, bringing you to his chest. 

“I lead with my heart and I know it’s a strength and a fault. Eddie, I hope you know I don’t mind taking those so-called bullets. I love you both so much and those kids. I’d do anything for them and you. I hear what you’re saying though. We should have talked to Emily together. I should have talked to you about your parents. I should have asked if you wanted me to talk to Rara instead of just…being the hero.”

You both chuckle at his pronunciation of your daughter’s name before the metalhead lifts you in his arms and carries you to the bedroom. After yanking feverishly at each other’s clothes, you grin as he passionately kisses your lips, groaning into your mouth when he feels Steve between his legs eagerly sucking his cock. 

“That’s it, Steve, baby. Fuck.”

“Oh! I have an idea.”, you jump up eagerly, stumbling slightly as your tipsy legs carry you where you need to go. Eddie breathily laughs before focusing back on the other boy, petting his head as he swirled his tongue along his veins and across the tip making the long-haired boy’s eyes roll. 

Tapping on Steve’s shoulder, he glances your way and smiles at the strap on you have in your hands. Bouncing off the bed, he helps you put it on and watches with eager, lust filled eyes as you climb onto the mattress on your knees, tug on Eddie’s arm, and place him in front of you of you, wrapping your arms around his stomach as he sinks down on to the toy. 

His body folds into yours as you both moan and your lips trail along his back as he begins to bounce against you. Your own glassy eyes find Steve’s and he smiles, kissing your lips before maneuvering himself on all fours in front of Eddie as he waited. 

“Oh my fucking God. You both feel so fucking good.”, the metalhead mewls as he guides himself into the other man’s entrance. Your breath warmed his skin as you thrust your hips as hard as you could allowing the silicone inside him to hit his sensitive spot repeatedly as his own cock was being squeezed almost impossibly tight by Steve’s own warmth inside of him. “Fuck. I love you both so much.”

“Love you…baby.”, you panted.

Taking hold of his shoulder, Eddie brought Steve back to chest circling his arms around him like you had as the man’s palm covered his own while his head fell back. 

“Fuck, Eddie, honey. Just like that. You’re gonna make me cum.”

“Right there? I got you, sweetheart.” Quickly covering his mouth, the metalhead clung to the other man as he grunted loudly, ropes of his spend hitting the sheets in front of him. “I know, baby. I know. Jesus, you sound so fucking sexy when you cum.”

His words and Steve’s orgasm put you over the edge as your body trembled against his as the ball dropped and you whimpered into his back. Eddie soon followed, biting into the other boy’s neck as he released his seed into him.

Everyone fell sideways, panting as you tried to catch your breath. 

“Did you know they let minors into The Hideout now?” Throwing your arm over your eyes, you laugh hard as Eddie turns to face you with an equally wide smile, cupping your cheeks to kiss your lips. “Seriously…thank you…for everything.”

After a hastened shower, the three of you curled up in bed, murmuring soft praises and exchanging kisses till you fell asleep in each other’s arms. 

##################

“Hey Ro. You wanna play some basketball with me?”

Purposely ignoring her brother, your daughter folds her arms as she looks in the opposite direction towards the tv. Dylan hangs his head as he scoots slowly towards the kitchen where you were eating your lunch. 

“How long is she going to be mad at me?”

Placing a finger over your lips, you gesture with your eyes towards the living room and he follows your gaze just in time to see Eddie throw himself down next to his daughter.

“Whatcha doin’?”

“Watching tv.”

Her father nods as he pretends to stretch and glance towards the backdoor.

“You know it’s a gorgeous day and I think Dylan was going to play outside. Geez, I shouldn’t say ‘play’ like he’s six anymore. When your dad and I first met him we used to play basketball with him in the court right in the middle of the apartment complex. Can’t believe kid is going off to college.”, he sighs.

“I don’t want him to go…”

“I don’t either, baby, but you know what? He promised he would be here for holidays and your birthday. He’s also going to be calling mommy 24/7 because you know how much she loves you guys. Of course, we can go visit him and Daisy.”

Aurora’s bottom lip quivers as she continues to stare ahead.

“Sweetheart, you know he’s going to miss you and James as much as you both miss him. Your siblings and no matter where he is he’s always going to be there for you and love you just like me, mommy, and dada.”

Without saying a word, she jumped off the couch, running towards Dylan who placed the ball on the counter to open his arms and catch her as she jumped into them. After putting her back down on her feet, he took hold of her hand as they both smiled and ran outside to play. 

Eddie grins when he feels you lightly tug his hair, tilting him back so you could kiss his lips. 

“You’re a good man, Edward Munson.”

“Part of that is because of you Y/N Munson-Harrington.”

############

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[jen-with-a-pen]

Hello! Welcome to my OFFICIAL Masterlist!

Here you'll find links to my written works and other odds and ends. I hope you find what you're looking for– and if not, feel free to drop in a prompt, some inspo, or an idea you think you'd like to see! My ask box is always open and I try to answer any and all messages as soon as possible.

If you don't like reading on Tumblr, don't worry! You can find most, if not all, of my works on my AO3!

Images edited/made by me! I do not own the art for the comics.

Please consider reblogging my work! Reblogging helps others to be able to enjoy mine and other writers' works! Help me help you help others and reblog <3

Spam liking my works will result in an automatic block!

Dirty Dishes

Bucky x F!Reader (CATWS/CACW time periods)

You and Bucky share an apartment in Bucharest. Some nights are fine, others are tough. Nights with storms are especially tough.

WARNINGS: Angst, Bucky having flashbacks, panic/anxiety attacks

18+ Impressions On the Inside of Your Thigh

Beefy!Cowboy!Bucky Barnes x F!RanchHand!Reader

Head Ranch Hand James "Bucky" Barnes has had a very, very long day. Only way to remedy it is to make you squeal.

WARNINGS: grinding, pet names/name-calling, making out, dirty talk, oral sex (f!receiving)

→ Fan Favorite on AO3!

18+ FOXHUNT

WS!Beefy!Bucky Barnes x F!Avenger!Reader

Not only has HYDRA successfully executed their infiltration on S.H.I.E.L.D., but they have also reclaimed their finest weapon. Your safety isn't the only thing that's compromised.

WARNINGS: being hunted, implied non-con elements, violence, cursing, blood, bruising, beating, passing out, forced nudity

18+ Chains Around My Feet

Bucky Barnes x F!Reader; established relationship/friendship and most of work is told out of Reader's POV.

Being held captive and experimented on definitely wasn't in your job description. After what seems like months in HYDRA captivity, rescue finally arrives– but what is rescue if not relief from the suffering?

PLEASE SEE POST FOR FULL LIST OF WARNINGS major warnings: graphics horror elements, blood + gore, whump, hurt and absolutely ZERO comfort, major character betrayal, major character death, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT

18+ FILTHY, IMPETUOUS SOULS

parings: Protective!Avenger!Bucky Barnes x Sniper!Agent!Curvy!F!Reader

After what you assumed would be a successful mission, things veer off-course and you're stuck with Bucky Barnes in Istanbul with no way out until morning. The tension between you comes to head and nothing will be the same again.

warnings: enemies to lovers, angst, canon-level violence with just a bit more blood, guns, reader is a sniper/sharp-shooter, hate-making out, degradation, fighting, insults and cursing, teasing/banter, reader and bucky don't know how to talk about their feelings (or to eachother), spanking, doggy, angry-horny, rough-ish sex, pent up anger, pent up sexual tension, power dynamics, protective!Bucky, vague hinting to Bucky's PTSD, no use of y/n, reader is tagged as curvy and is described as such but body description is kept to a minimum

Honeysuckle

Bucky x F!Reader

The adventures of one James "Bucky" Barnes and our reader, Honeysuckle, mixed with a lot of mutual pining, with some help from Sam 'Wingman' Wilson. No real story line, just a mix of one shots that might end up loosely connected one day.

WARNINGS: mutual pining, requited love, idiots in love, slow burn, tooth-rotting fluff, maybe a little angst, established friendship, yes this takes place in the Tower

This House Had Swing In It - Coming Soon/Being Rewritten

DEVILISHLY HANDSOME, ENTICINGLY BEAUTIFUL - Coming Soon

FALLEN STARS - Coming Soon

If You Go, I Go

CAFTA!Closeted!Pre-Serum!Steve x CAFTA!Closeted!Sergeant!Bucky Barnes

It's Bucky's last night before deployment. The evening does not go the way Steve, nor Bucky, thought it would.

WARNINGS: angst, loneliness, pining, closeted feelings, messing with canon

Dancing in the Kitchen

slightly possessive!Best Friend!Steve Rogers x Best Friend!F!Reader

Tony dumps you. Steve picks you up and puts you back together again.

WARNINGS: fluff and angst, insecurities, verbal abuse and insults/language, VERY SLIGHT possessiveness, emotions™

18+ ALL TIED UP (IN A BIG RED BOW)

Art Student!Frat Brother!Steve Rogers x Film Student!Sorority Sister!Reader

Inexperienced and still freshly-traumatized by his first heartbreak, Steve Rogers decides to finally move away for college after taking two gap years to work, save, and help his Ma around the house. It’ll be good for him. Away from his ex. Away from his hometown. He's excited to finally chase his dreams and begin again as a promising fine arts student at Richards College. Well, almost. Thanks to a generous scholarship spanning the next four years of his life, Steve is required to participate in on-campus Greek life. It’s simple: join a frat. They shouldn't be too intimidating. At least they're not as bad as they are in the movies, right? Right..?

general series warnings: frat bros being frat bros, sorority sisters being sorority sisters, manipulation, coercion, blackmail, fluff, angst, whump, explicit forced s3xual acts, slow burn, dissociation, nud1ty, dubcon (bordering noncon), forced drvgging, mentions of kidnapping, emotional damage, Steve's just trying his best, Bucky and Sam are major frat bros, Tony and Clint are somewhere I swear

18+ ALL WRAPPED UP (IN A BIG RED BOW) - COMING SOON

The Weight

Modern!Avengers!Stucky

Steve betrays Bucky in the worst way possible.

WARNINGS: angst, cheating, emotional damage/hurt, no comfort, swearing, mentions/desc. of vomiting

Coming Soon

Reading Lists

This House | Honeysuckle | DHEB

Fic Recs | Spicy Fic Recs | Not My Masterlist

OMEGAVERSE

DEVILISHLY HANDSOME, ENTICINGLY BEAUTIFUL

Honeysuckle Vibes

Hurt/Comfort

This House Had Swing In It

This House: The Swing Collection

Tooth-Rotting Fluff

ENEMIES TO LOVERS

@/natrace's Stardust Reblog Challenge Masterlist

@/flordeamatista's Jardin de Poemas Challenge

@/targaryenvampireslayer's Blind Date Writing Challenge

WHUMPTOBER 2023 MASTERLIST

[beefromanoff]

Project Mockingbird Ch. 3

summary: the first official encounter with James Buchanan Barnes is...not exactly love at first sight.

pairing: Bucky Barnes x OC

author's note: let me know what you think! thanks for reading, xox!

tag list: @bangtanxberm (let me know if you want to be added <3)

chapter list

_________________________________________________________

I was exhausted. 

For my first full day, we’d toured the entire facility, and I still felt like there was so much I hadn’t seen. There were rooms full of screens with dozens of agents talking on headsets, rooms with mechanical arms and welding sparks flying, rooms with so many weapons I felt like I was on a military base. It seemed to go on forever. Hangars, shooting ranges, labs, even an extensive medical wing for mission or training injuries. Natasha and Steve had been more than accommodating, staying with me through dinner. I’d met a few other Avengers, ones I recognized from either the news or online. It felt like a strange, high-tech college dorm, with ultra-powerful roommates. Not that I knew what that was like. 

I’d spent what should have been my college years in living hell. Not something I wanted to think about at that particular moment, though. I was just glad to be back in my room. Just glad to have a room to call my own, really. I twisted on the bed, my back sinking into the plush bedding. The feeling of a comfortable bed after a hot shower would never lose that euphoric feeling. Not when I’d gone so long without it before. 

This room was unfamiliar, yet strangely comforting. Soft light filtered through the curtains, casting a gentle glow on the walls. The bed felt good beneath me, oddly similar to those of the luxurious suites I’d grown so accustomed to in Vegas over the past few weeks. 

A shiver tore through my body as an unwelcome thought reminded me of the cold, rickety hospital bed I’d spent so many nights sleeping on before my escape. How long ago was that? Years? Decades? I shook my head, willing the thoughts to fall out of my ears and never return. There was so much I still didn’t remember. 

Taking a deep breath, I focused on something good. A friend. Natasha had assured me this was a safe place, but could I really trust it? Could I trust her?

I squeezed my eyes shut and tried again to silence the doubts swirling in my mind.

This room, it's like a cage that's too comfortable to be real. How did I end up here? How did Natasha convince me to trust her, to trust them? I’ve spent so long avoiding people, avoiding connections. And now, I’m here, surrounded by... superheroes? I’m supposed to believe they have no other motive? 

She said I don’t have to work with them, I don’t have to fight. Why would she say that if it isn’t true? To get me to come with her. God, I’m so dumb. Of course they’ll want me to fight. Why else would they want me here at all. The only thing I can do is fight. 

At least if I’m here, I’d be fighting for the good guys this time. At least, I hope so. 

Natasha, she’s different. Right? I saw it in her eyes. She understands what it means to fight against the darkness. She told me the Avengers are a family, a team. She had no one before them. I have no one now. Can I really have that too? Would they accept me if they knew…knew everything?

Closing my eyes tighter, I try to push away the memories of the experiments, the pain, the fear. Flashes of white, hot anger and blinding rage. 

Natasha said they'd protect me. She said I could start anew here. But how can I trust these people I barely know? What if this is just another trap, another illusion to get me to do someone’s bidding?

I feel a lump forming in my throat. 

I have to give it a chance, don't I? I have to believe in something. Believe in someone. Maybe this room, this bed, is more than just a comfortable cage. Maybe it’s a sanctuary, a haven where I can rebuild what HYDRA took away from me.

Maybe I can have a life here. 

Taking a deep breath, I remind myself that I'm not alone anymore. I'm not that scared, fragile girl they took to their labs so long ago. I’m not the angry, violent assassin who escaped them. 

I’m Charlotte Rossi, and I survived. I survived all of it. I survived for a reason.  

Maybe, just maybe, I can learn to trust these Avengers. Maybe I can find a new purpose here, a reason to fight back.

As sleep started to claim me, I took a shuddering breath, making a promise to myself:

I'll give them a chance. I’ll trust them. For Natasha. For me.

And with that, I let the darkness take me, hoping that when I woke, I'd find the strength to face this new chapter of my life, whatever it may bring.

The night had been turbulent, the remnants of my nightmares still lingering in the corners of my mind like cobwebs. I had always found solace in the quiet hours before dawn, where the world seemed to hold its breath, and the horrors of the past felt momentarily distant. 

Slipping out of bed, I padded through the dark common room to the balcony, my bare feet cold against the smooth tiles. Like everything here, the balcony was pristine and expanse. It stretched in a large semi-circle, boasting the best view of the entire compound. Except maybe the one you’d get from any of their impressive aircraft. 

The first hints of sunrise painted the sky in soft hues of pink and orange, casting a serene glow over the lake. As I settled into a chair, the tranquility of the morning wrapped around me like a comforting blanket. Nightmares weren’t new to me, but I never quite learned to quickly bounce back from them. There was still a cold sheen of sweat on my chest as I leaned back, taking in my surroundings. 

My attention was drawn to the trail surrounding the compound's lake, where a figure emerged from the early morning mist. I tensed out of instinct. He moved with a surprising amount of grace for someone of his size, every step purposeful and powerful. Even from a distance, I recognized him - James Buchanan Barnes, the Winter Soldier. 

There was an undeniable magnetism about him, something in the way he carried himself, a nearly predatory confidence that was both captivating and intimidating. A shiver ran through me as I watched him turn a corner and disappear from sight. 

I knew I’d see him eventually, it was inevitable. Some part of me found peace in the kindness of the rest of the team. If there was going to be an issue with my being here, surely I’d have picked up on it by now. Why would they have even brought me here if anyone had a problem with it?

Lost in my thoughts, I didn’t notice Steve approaching until his shadow fell over me. He held out a steaming mug of coffee, the aroma rich and inviting. "Couldn’t sleep either?" he asked, his blue eyes kind and understanding.

I accepted the coffee with a grateful nod, the warmth seeping into my hands as I wrapped them around the mug. "Thank you," I murmured, taking a tentative sip.

"Want something to do today?" Steve’s voice was casual, inviting. "I have a training session with some of the agents. You're welcome to watch. Might give you a sense of what we do here."

I raised an eyebrow, intrigued by the prospect of witnessing their training firsthand, but cautious about any hidden motive. 

“Don’t worry, I’m not trying to rope you into participating.” Steve lowered his own mug. “I don’t like ulterior motives. If there’s ever something I think, you’ll know it. I’m just a guy who was new here at one point too, I know the first few weeks can be a little…aimless.” 

Chuckling, I nodded. “Yeah, you could say that. I was hoping for some kind of activities list, like at summer camp.”

“You went to summer camp?” He looked incredulous. 

“I’ve seen movies.” 

“Ah,” He sipped his coffee. “That’s where I learned about -” He gestured vaguely. “Everything, I suppose.”

There was a moment of silence as he decided if he was going to address the obvious. 

“I had a lot to catch up on, too.” He spoke softly. “For a while, I had to write down everything new about the world that I wanted to remember. I watched a lot of movies, probably not historically accurate, but I definitely enjoyed learning that way.” He smiled, looking back at me. “Not a lot of people can relate. Just know I’m here.” 

“Thanks, Steve.” I pressed my lips together in a small smile. 

“For what it’s worth, you’re much more well-adjusted than I ever was. You must catch on quick.”

“You have no idea.” 

We leisurely finished our coffee before going to our respective rooms to get dressed. I had returned to my room to find a small pile of folded black clothes on the bed beneath a handwritten note.

‘In case you don’t feel like wearing sequins all week - xo, Nat’

I grinned, pulling out a set of black workout tights and a matching long sleeved top. It was chilly out here, which I guess was to be expected from upstate New York in October. Not nearly the balmy temperatures of Nevada. I did a quick change, laced up my sneakers, and met Steve back in the common room so we could make our way to the training wing. 

The moment I stepped inside, I was awestruck by the high-tech setup. The room was a marvel of modern design, sleek and functional, with state-of-the-art exercise equipment lining the walls. Rows of punching bags hung from the ceiling, several sparring rings placed throughout the massive room. 

The sound of bodies moving and the echo of instructions filled the air. Agents in SHIELD uniforms were scattered across the training mats, engaged in various forms of combat. Steve led me to a vantage point where I could observe the proceedings without being in the way.

A small group of six agents stood around one of the mats, waiting for him. They paused their stretching to greet him as we walked up. 

“Team, this is Charlotte. She’s going to be around for a while, I trust you’ll all make her feel welcome.” Steve’s words were met with nods and various greetings towards me, to which I smiled and tried to look as non-threatening as possible. Maybe they’ll think I’m just someone’s long-lost cousin, here to visit for a few months. 

Steve’s movements were a symphony of precision and power as he demonstrated different combat techniques to the agents. His punches were lightning-fast, his blocks seamless. Each motion was deliberate, a testament to his expertise. The way he moved, the way he fought, it was both beautiful and awe-inspiring. I could tell he was pulling his punches, using as much effort to go easy on the agents as they were to try and land a single blow on him. Super soldier strength was no joke. 

I watched, captivated, as he guided the agents, offering corrections and encouragement in equal measure. There was a quiet intensity about him, a dedication to his craft that was impossible to miss. At that moment, I understood why he was the leader of the Avengers, why he was Captain America. He was confident, not arrogant. Kind, yet firm. He had their respect but he so clearly respected them as well. He was the kind of guy you’d want to follow into battle. 

As the training session continued, I found myself drawn into the rhythm of their movements, the energy in the room palpable. Despite myself, I felt familiar patterns happening within me. My eyes tracked their movements, clocking every position, every wince, every shift of weight from one foot to the other. With an almost computerized precision, my mind began to catalog the fighting style of all six agents and the super soldier right in front of me. 

Later that day, I retreated to the workout facility in the Avengers’ building. It was smaller, but equally as nice. There were small modifications, clearly for accommodating superhumans. For starters, the ceilings were much higher, likely to accommodate for those who could clear a 30 foot tree in a single jump. The weights ranged far beyond the standard 45 lb plates and 100 lb dumbbells, which was where the other facility capped out. 

I punched a few buttons on the treadmill and worked up to a moderate pace. The row of treadmills faced the lake, already one of my favorite things to look at. I focused on the trees, the wind rustling through them. I controlled my breathing, thankful for the peace and quiet. The solitude lasted a good half hour before I heard the door slide open. 

“Hey stranger,” Natasha’s familiar rasp announced her presence. 

“Long time no see,” I tugged the safety cord out of the treadmill and let myself slide off the back, landing on my feet. 

“Heard you got to see Rogers in action today?” She strode over and took a seat on the bench nearest me. 

I shrugged. “The basket weaving class was full.” 

“Well, if you want to see the more exciting training sessions, I help out with weapons and hand-to-hand a few days a week.” She winked.

“If I had known that, I wouldn’t have wasted my first training session on Steve!” I mocked a tantrum. 

“Hey, super-soldier hearing here.” Steve strode through the door, right on cue.

“Beat it, Rogers, we’re having a girl talk.” 

Dropping his bag, Steve pulled out a roll of tape and began wrapping his hands for what I assume would be a round of sparring, either with the punching bag or an actual person. “You’re just mad I set the bar so high with Charlotte’s first training experience.” He grinned. 

Raising my eyebrow, I watched as Natasha rolled her eyes and grinned. There was so clearly something between them, it took me less than 48 hours to pick up on it. I wondered if it was something they’d explored yet, or if they lived in denial. 

Before I could make a snappy remark, the doors opened again and in strode the one man I wasn’t sure I was ready to see yet. 

Blue eyes snapped up to look at me, and he stopped in his tracks as the door slid shut behind him. Based on the way his jaw clenched, I don’t think he was quite ready to see me either. The world felt like it slowed to half speed, I felt my thoughts get muddled. I was slipping away from reality. No, please no, not here, not now -

White hot light exploded in my skull as I collapsed to my knees, fighting against myself.

“Charlotte!” Natasha was at my side instantly, holding my arm.

“Stop…Me…” My breathing was labored, I spat each word out through gritted teeth as I felt myself losing the internal battle for control.

“What do you mean, what’s going on?” She gripped my upper arm tightly, looking at Steve in concern. He hovered over me, halfway crouched. 

Then it all went black. 

________________

Steve looked from Natasha to Bucky, still frozen by the door. Charlotte had collapsed to her knees, face contorted in pain. In the few seconds since she’d cried out, sweat had already broken on the back of her neck. 

“Stop…Me…” Her voice was somewhere between a growl and a plea. 

“What do you mean, what’s going on?” Natasha asked, looking up at Steve. Before anyone could react, Charlotte sent them both tumbling backwards. In one fluid movement, she’d rolled forward and closed the distance between her and Bucky. Her momentum carried her from the roll straight into a fighting stance. Before Nat or Steve could scramble to their feet, she’d swung into a roundhouse kick straight at Bucky’s head. 

He ducked, eyes wide with surprise but movements instinctive. Charlotte went straight from her kick into a crouch, swinging her leg to sweep his out from under him. He landed on his back and rolled away from her as she advanced. Left hook, right jab, knee to the ribs, Bucky narrowly blocked each one. She was quick. 

For a split second, Bucky took his eyes off of her fists and looked at her face. A chill nearly paralyzed him as he saw the blank expression on her face, the unseeing and glassy eyes. His pause was costly, and he felt the full weight of that when her foot collided with the side of his head. He spat blood on the ground just as Steve’s feet stepped between him and Charlotte. 

Steve blocked her jabs as rapidly as they came, with Natasha running up from behind. 

“Get the hell out of here!” He yelled at Bucky, still on the ground as blood pooled from the cut on his eyebrow. “Go!” 

Bucky didn’t question it, rolling to his feet and sprinting out the door. 

Natasha came from above and wrapped her legs around Charlotte’s neck, throwing her to the ground. Without releasing her, she continued to squeeze. Steve dropped down, pinning her arms as she writhed against Natasha. After a violent resistance, she went limp as she finally passed out. 

“What…the hell just happened.” Nat fell back on her elbows, breathing hard. 

“I have no idea,” Steve held a hand out, helping her to stand. “Do you think she needs medical?” 

“Well, I don’t think we should just go tuck her into bed after this.” Natasha rubbed her sleeve across her forehead, wiping sweat off. “You go check on Barnes, I’ll call up to the room and see if anyone’s here to help me take her in.”

Nodding, Steve took off in a jog after Bucky, following the trail of blood splattered on the ground.

[sarahowritesostucky]

📖"The Carter Academy for Omega Excellence"

Rated: Explicit

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes

Tags: age gap, boarding school au, a/b/o, dub-con/non-con, spanking, feminization, dumbification, sexism, misogyny, subjugation, prostate milking, discipline, D/s elements, societal issues, hurt/comfort, mentions of past self-harm, onlyfans, predatory behavior, gender politics

Summary: Bucky is not pleased when he finds out that his parents tricked him and he's being forced to stay at the school.

Author's Note: *reformatted with a few age and plot changes to adhere to Tumblr's ToS*

(Wait! I haven't read Part 1 Part 2 yet!)

Part 3 - A Pedagogy Steeped in Tradition, cont'd

Previously: “How long until you whip him into shape?” Ransom asks as they return back to Steve’s office. They’ve just walked in the room, and James is turning around to look at them as they come through the door.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Steve hems, catching the boy’s gaze and giving him a warm look. “I bet you he’ll be a new James by spring break.”

James’ eyes narrow. “Bucky,” he says.

“Excuse me?”

“My name is Bucky,” he repeats peevishly. “Nobody calls me James except my grandparents.”

Steve nods, ignoring the boy’s tone. “Nice to meet you then, Bucky. I take it Sharon had to leave?” Bucky shrugs in lieu of an answer, and Steve allows the attitude to go unchecked only because the boy’s parents are still present. “Sharon is a wonderful Handler,” he tells him instead. “I’m sure the two of you will get along famously.”

Bucky glowers at him. 

Steve catches the eye of the security officer. “Mr. Rollins, you can take up your post in the hall. Thank you for waiting with him.”

“Sir.” Jack nods and heads out.

“Oh, Bucky, just wait until you see this place, it’s so neat! It’s got such history.” Winnifred gushes about it to her son, trying to get him excited, telling him about all the different things they saw on their tour of Cragside. She calls it a “castle,” which draws a bit of a laugh from Steve. 

“Hardly, Mrs. Barnes,” he chuckles.

“Oh, it’s Drysdale,” she corrects. “My name.”

Steve looks over to Bucky. “Oh. But I thought—”

“I’m remarried,” she explains. “Bucky is from my first marriage. He chooses to use his father’s surname.”

“Ah. I see. My apologies, Mrs. Drysdale.” Steve doesn’t miss the sour expression that flits over Bucky’s face. Steve clears his throat and gestures towards the couches. “I’m just having the paperwork drawn up. It should arrive soon. Would you care to take a seat while we wait? Afternoon tea’s an entire thing over here, and it is about that time.”

“Paperwork?” Bucky says, attention sharpening on them. “What paperwork?”

“Nothing to concern yourself with, little one,” Steve says, very aware of the displeasure that flits across Bucky’s face at being addressed that way.

“Whatever,” he mutters. “I’ve already decided I don’t want to go here anyway. It’s an all omegas school. Did you guys know that?” He’s asking his mother and stepfather, and Winnifred sighs while Ransom scoffs.

“It’s exactly the sort of environment you need, you little punk. Can’t be a skank here. All you can do is study. That’s what school’s for.”

“Ransom,” Winnie scolds.

“That’s the sort of thing pompous losers who can’t get laid say,” Bucky tosses back, and Steve makes a quick assumption that there is no love lost between these two.

“I’ll call for the tea,” he says, trying to stop their bickering. It works, somewhat, and the Drysdales sit across from Steve on the room’s conversation couches when the service has been delivered and set out on the coffee table between them. Steve catches Rollins’ questioning look through the doorway as the servants are leaving, but shakes his head smally, confident that he can handle an unruly pup like Bucky all by himself, if things get testy.

Predictably, Bucky stays standing while the real adults have tea. He ignores his mother when she suggests that he have a seat, and he keeps making aggressive eye contact with Steve each time he comes over to grab another petit four off the tiered stand to eat.

“Oh Bucky, honestly,” Winnifred scolds after the fifth one. “They’re not all just for you.”

Bucky doesn’t respond to her, just shoves most of the scone in his mouth while he confronts Steve with a blunt, “I’m not even gonna apply to this place.” Steve stares him down, but Bucky doesn’t break eye contact, the little shit. 

“Well,” Steve says calmly, “We’re not a university. We’re a boarding school. Our students are enrolled by their guardians. It’s more a transfer of custody than it is your traditional college application.” He watches as Bucky’s face screws up in confusion.

“What?” he says. “What are you talking about?” He turns to the couch where Winnifred and Ransom are sitting. “What’s he talking about?”

WInnifred leans forward anxiously. “Well, honey, we didn’t think you’d agree to come if we told you.”

“Told me what?” Bucky expression is rapidly darkening. He turns on Ransom with a scowl. “What is this place?”

“It’s a reform school. And you’re attending,” Ransom says.

“No. … You’re joking me right now … right? Are you shitting me?”

He shrugs. “I’ve already paid your tuition. You should be thanking me.”

“Thanking you?! I only agreed to this stupid trip because you promised we could go see Stonehenge and some castles and shit! Not so you could imprison me at some fucking oldworld boarding school in the middle of fucking nowhere! Fuck you!” 

Winnifred nearly chokes on her tea. “Bucky!”

“This is a very prestigious, traditional, very expensive school, you little shit,” Ransom grits, pointing at Bucky. “Maybe they’ll actually be able to drum some manners into you, teach you how to be a proper omega. You need some good old fashioned discipline. ”

“I really don’t care what you think I need, Rancid,” Bucky snaps. “God. I should’ve known the second I saw that one guy on a leash.” He looks over at Steve with a nasty expression. “You’re one of those red pill Alphas, aren’t you? One of those incels who can’t get laid and blames all your problems on the omegas of the world and modern society and feminism and shit, right?”

“What’s with the obsession with getting laid, Mr. Barnes?” Steve drawls, completely unaffected by Bucky’s tantrum. “This is The Carter Academy for Omega Excellence. We’re a finishing school and reform facility aimed at older teens and young adults; exclusive, secure, and very well-equipped to handle whatever hissy fit you might decide to throw at us. This is a school for the rich and overindulged, but not in the ways you’re probably used to. We tame some of the most spoilt brats in Europe here. So I’d advise you to behave. Things will go much harder for you if you don’t.” Steve knows immediately from watching Bucky’s face fall that this is the first time the kid is hearing the full name of the school said out loud. He resists the urge to laugh about how clueless that makes him. The school’s emblem is printed clear as day all over the place, but Bucky has clearly missed every single sign that litters the campus. “Kids these days,” Steve simpers, staring down the boy’s rapidly darkening expression. “Noses always buried in your phones, huh?”

Bucky’s fingers grip tighter around the cellphone in his hand, glaring, and then he whips around to scowl at Ransom instead. “You,” he growls. “You tricked me!”

Ransom looks like his mind is already elsewhere—perhaps on the rest of the vacation he’s already unashamedly told Steve he plans to take without his pesky stepson in tow. “What can I say? You’re pretty easy to trick.”

“You can’t just leave me here!” Bucky squawks from around another mouthful of food, crumbs scattering to the carpet as he flings the hand that’s holding his scone. “I didn’t even know places like this were a real thing anymore! Like a fucking convent? Like some sort of fucked up juvie-meets-Hogwarts?!”

“Bucky, really,” his mother scolds, lips pursed. “You’re making a mess on Principal Rogers’ floor.”

Steve waves her off. “That’s alright, Mrs. Drysdale.” He looks at Bucky. “You’ll be surprised just how well it works, Cupcake. You’ll have no distractions from your education here.” The ‘Cupcake’ obviously goes over like a lead balloon with Bucky, if his continuing glower is anything to go by. Steve ignores the kid’s petulance and turns back to converse with the parents. “The girls’ school still operates down in Newcastle-upon-Tyne, at our original campus. A generous benefactor donated this estate, so now all of our male students attend here at Cragside.”

“Finishing school,” Bucky grumbles over to the side, still displeased. “This is bullshit.”

 “Language, Mr. Barnes,” Steve corrects blithely, and keeps on with Winnifred, “My business partner, Ms. Carter, she’s to act as Headmistress there moving forward. ‘Carter Girls’ Academy’ is now its own entity and will operate independent of this institution.” He looks back to Bucky and locks eyes with him. “Sorry to disappoint you, but out here it’s just us boys, I’m afraid.”

It’s laughably obvious how Steve does not fit into any category with Bucky, let alone that of “boy,” and Steve is pleased to note a light dusting of color on the kid’s cheeks after that. Bucky goes tight-lipped once again, and Steve leaves him to his teenaged sulking as he finishes entertaining the parents and assuring them that their son will be well looked after during his time at school. The paperwork for Bucky’s admission arrives and is reviewed, and soon Mr. and Mrs. Drysdale have signed their son over to Steve’s care and are saying their goodbyes.

Winnifred pulls him into a long hug, which Bucky tolerates with limp arms. “Be good,” Steve hears her say. “And remember how generous your stepfather’s being.”

“Forty grand a semester,” Ransom mutters on the way out, reminding Steve that money can’t buy class.

One of the school prefects is waiting out in the hall to act as escort, Rollins standing directly against the opposite side of the hallway in his security guard gear. Steve catches Bucky looking at the man like he’s gauging his chances of making a run for it, but luckily the boy relents and turns away from the door with a huff. Steve sees the parents out and then finally pushes the heavy office door closed.

The room is suddenly twenty times more silent than it was before, though not much has changed other than who’s occupying it. 

Without turning to look at Bucky, Steve walks leisurely over to the office’s wall of windows. He waits there for a moment, until the Drysdales appear in the courtyard below. He watches placidly as they walk to their car and get in, heading off down the drive within the next few moments. Cragside is abutted by forest on every side but one, and soon the trees block the car from view, and there’s nothing more to see. Still, Steve remains standing there, looking out the windows at the grounds and letting the silence stretch out, the tension build, as the boy behind him stares his fill. (Steve is not unaware of what he looks like from the back in a tailored suit.)

Finally, he turns around. Bucky is still standing there in the middle of the room, looking rooted to the spot. He seems apprehensive now that it’s just the two of them, some of his earlier bravado leached away. But after a moment he seems to collect himself, and he winds up jutting his jaw out again. 

Steve’s mouth quirks at that lingering bit of defiance. He always has enjoyed the process of breaking in a new student. “Alright, Honey,” he says softly. “That was fun back there. But now it’s time for the two of us to get properly acquainted, don’t you think?” He beckons him closer with a finger. “Come over here and let me have a look at you.”

Bucky doesn’t move, so Steve sighs and goes to him, fitting one hand to the front of his neck when he gets there. He holds him right underneath his jaw, pushing up to make Bucky look at him. Steve’s hand looks massive against the boy’s delicate throat, and he digs in with his thumb against the glands. Bucky lets out a sweet little gasp of sensitivity that Steve absolutely relishes. “You’re nervous,” he observes. He watches the fluttering of Bucky’s eyelids at his firm touch, his deep tone. Something between fondness and yearning flares in Steve’s belly, pleasurable and aching, like pressing on an old bruise. He ignores it, instead murmuring, “You’ve never had an Alpha, have you?”

Bucky’s eyes flick up to him. “I’m not a virgin,” he sneers. “I’ve fucked alphas before.”

Steve scoffs. “That’s not what I said.” He sees Bucky’s brow furrowing, so he cuts him off with a little scruff. “I said: you’ve never had an Alpha before.” He pulls against his jaw a little harder, watching the reaction it elicits in those angry blue eyes. “Don’t play coy with me, boy. Answer the question. You haven’t, have you?”

“No,” Bucky answers tightly. “I haven’t.” 

Steve nods. He relaxes his hand some. “Then that means most of this is all going to be new to you. You’ve had a liberal education, a lax upbringing. A lot’s going to be asked of you while you’re here. There’ll be a lot you don’t know. You’ll make mistakes, you’ll struggle sometimes. And that’s okay. Rome wasn’t built in a day, now was it?” He strokes softly over the boy’s fluttering pulsepoint and Voices, “I do, however, expect you to be respectful and obedient. Do you understand?” 

Bucky whimpers, though Steve isn’t being unkind. In fact he’s Voiced very softly to him just now, letting the dominant tone of it creep into the words he’s saying, letting it enrich them without hardening them, so that Bucky can really start to get a taste for it. The boy’s eyelids visibly flutter and his lips part as he starts to breathe open-mouthed. Then his tongue darts out to lick his lips as he tries to get a handle on himself. It’s cute. 

Steve circles the pad of his thumb over his bonding gland. “Has anyone ever Voiced to you before, baby?” 

Bucky nods. “Uh huh.”

“Yes, Alpha,” Steve gently corrects. “Who?”

“Who ... huh?”

Steve chuckles. “Aw, don’t go stupid on me yet, honey. I asked you: who’s Voiced to you before?”

“Oh. Just, um, just some … some guys … n’ a girl, from school. Hey,” he frowns, “M’not stupid.” 

“Hush. You get worked up too easy. Just try and stay calm for me, yeah?” A thrill travels through Steve’s body as he watches Bucky’s lips part and his face slacken. He’s so easy for it. In his slacks, Steve’s cock pulses with interest. “Oh Sweetie,” he coos. “You don’t know what Voicing is, if you think one of your little classmates did it to you.” 

Under his hand, Bucky shivers. “What?” he croaks.

It’s no wonder. If all he’s ever experienced are the best attempts of a few pubertal teenagers, then a grown ass man like Steve is bound to feel like a lot. It’s like giving a shot of hard liquor to a kid who’s never drank before. The poor thing has no tolerance. Steve guides him over to the couch, where he sits and encourages Bucky to kneel with a guiding hand pressing down on his shoulder. “There you go,” he praises as Bucky’s knees hit the floor, not missing how the boy’s brow furrows adorably at the change in positioning. 

“I … I don’t …” He looks insulted and confused about how he arrived there, staring down at his knees on the carpet as if they’ve just betrayed him by folding so easily.

“It’s okay,” Steve soothes. “That’s normal. I know it can be a little unsettling at first, that won’t last. You’ll learn to enjoy it, embrace it, even. And it’s certainly nothing to be ashamed of.” 

“Ashamed of … what?” Bucky asks, swallowing thickly when Steve touches his neck again. He jerks back, the Alpha’s hand left hovering in the air between them. 

Steve sighs sadly and lets his hand drop. “Submission, Sweetheart. That urge to bare your neck? Going to your knees for me just now? It’s what made that feel right.” He watches the realization bloom on Bucky’s face and the fear leak into his eyes, the way he glances back down to his own body like he’s never seen it before. Steve makes sure to be gentle with him as he says, “It’s not a bad thing to give in when you get the urge. Your body craves it. Your brain thrives on it.” 

“On what?” Bucky growls nastily. “Getting into blowjob position for my principal?”

Steve forces himself not to laugh and instead raises an eyebrow that he hopes looks threatening. “Thrives on submission,” he corrects. “It’s already in you, an innate reflex, but for whatever reason you’ve trained yourself out of it. You’ll have to relearn those behaviors.”

“What behaviors,” Bucky asks, “grovelling?”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Hardly. Things like humility, and subservience, thinking before you speak. Don’t worry, most of our matriculating students are out of practice at best, we know you need a lot of help. That’s why you get the staff, your teachers, me. And of course your Handler, who’s in charge of you completely.” He sees Bucky’s expression sour and sternly adds, “Completely, Bucky. When your Handler asks you to do something, it isn’t a request. If they tell you to kneel, or to sit on their lap, or even strip naked in front of them in a public space, then that’s what you do. That’s how it works here. And if you resist, you can count on punishment.” He watches as Bucky’s visage darkens, a storm of contempt gathering behind his eyes.

“Naked?” he says, scowling. “What the hell are you talking about?”

 “Shh,” Steve chides, trying to calm him with a pet to the head. Bucky hisses in rejection though, trying to jerk away, so Steve acts decisively. He grabs the back of his neck, scruffing him and forcing him in close. “Don’t fight, Bucky. Just calm down, rest your head down here.” Bucky grunts and pulls, but that only lasts a second before the Hold and Steve’s Voice make him go limp with a confused whimper. Steve hushes him and strokes his hair. “You’re okay … Take a deep breath ... There you go, good girl.” He waits. “… Now, I'm going to explain a few things for you. I want you to listen.”

Bucky grumbles unhappily from his spot between Steve’s legs, his cheek smooshed against the Alpha’s thigh muscle. “What punishments?” he growls.

“Hush.” Steve presses Bucky’s face against his leg and waits until he feels the next shudder of submission travel through his body. “Okay. Okay, good.” He inhales. “So, punishment. That can be lots of things. It can be spanking, or lines, or restraints at bedtime. It just depends on the situation and what your Handler feels is going to help you best in that specific situation. Often it’ll involve losing privileges of some sort; to your favorite activities or your clothing, or even bathroom privileges if you—”

“What?!”

Steve squeezes his neck again. “We can start right now if you need it,” he purrs, the threat coming through loud and clear despite his calm tone. He waits, and is pleased when Bucky offers no further bratting over the issue. “Okay, good.” He returns to petting him, fingers carding through his short, soft hair. There’s product in it, and Steve would bet money it’s blow-dried. He finds himself wanting to feel it in its natural state. “If you leave your hair alone after a shower,” he murmurs. “Does it dry curly?”

Bucky whines and squirms and completely ignores the question. “You just wanna humiliate me.”

“No, baby,” Steve tuts sadly. “That’s not it at all. I know it’ll seem that way sometimes, especially in the beginning. But this is all for you, I promise. To benefit you in the long run. To make you happy. Everything we do at this school is based on what the science has proven, okay? Evidence-based practice, that’s all. We wouldn’t use these methods if they didn’t work.”

“... what methods?” Bucky asks, voice tiny.

Steve hums and rubs behind his ear. “I’m sure a lot of it will seem old fashioned to you. It is old fashioned, or ‘traditional’ if you like. You met Sharon earlier, yes?” He waits for Bucky’s grunt of acknowledgement before he continues, “She’ll be your Handler. She’s personally assigned to you and nobody else, so she’ll be with you every day all day, almost everywhere you go.”

“Great,” Bucky complains

“It’s a good thing. She’s here to help you with your needs. Just think of her like … like a service animal, yeah? Just a tool to help you succeed.”

“Does she heel and sit?” Bucky mutters, and Steve laughs in surprise.

“No. The other way around, if anything. You have a schedule. You’ll attend the classes and activities that’re set out for you, and you’ll comport yourself with dignity and respect.”

“You assume I know how to do that,” Bucky grumbles, and Steve scoffs and scruffs him playfully,

“Don’t worry about if you don’t know certain things, Sharon will guide you. You’ll never be punished for not knowing something, Buck. Only for disrespect or disobedience.” He pauses for a moment, letting the information sink in. He pets Bucky’s hair and watches where the kid’s got his eyes closed tight. “Do you understand?” he asks, but Bucky doesn’t answer, not even after a few seconds, so Steve gives the back of his neck another firm squeeze. “You don’t have control anymore, Sweetheart. Not over anything. And far from upsetting you, that should make you feel relieved. By the time you leave here it will.” 

Not shockingly, Bucky growls. It’s just a piddly little thing from high up in his throat—an omega’s weak attempt at a sound their bodies aren’t equipped to make—but the intent behind it is clear. He struggles to pull away, Steve Holding him and pushing his face against his thigh until it passes. “Shhh. Calm down. Stop pulling away from me.”

Bucky continues to fight it for a second or two, but eventually he breaks off in an angry little sob. “Lemme go,” he grunts, embarrassed. “What is that? What’re you doing?”

“Holding you,” Steve tells him calmly. “Another thing I suspect you’re completely virgin to.”

Bucky huffs and shivers against him. “Shuddup,” he sniffles. “That’s not true.”

“Mhm. Some more of your school buddies?” Steve guesses, unsurprised when the kid’s flaming face tells him that he’s got it pegged just about right. “I see,” he says sadly. “So it wasn’t what people made it sound like, right? It didn’t make you feel any better. Then you got disappointed and you thought: ‘that’s it?’”

“No …”

“Mmhm. And since it wasn’t good enough, you decided you wouldn’t bother behaving the way anybody said you should. You figured there’s something wrong with you, so what’s the point in trying? Might as well act out, get attention that way. Because at least then you’d be getting a response from people. Am I getting warm?”

“Lemme go,” Bucky mumbles miserably.

“I’d like to, Sweetheart. But I don’t want to let go if you’re not ready.” Steve maneuvers his hand so that his thumb can dig more directly into Bucky’s glands. The omega moans, though he obviously hears himself and tries to stifle the sound. It’s both sweet and pathetic, and it makes Steve wince in sympathy. “It’s okay to react,” he tells him quietly. “Do you know why it feels like that?” 

He isn’t expecting an answer from the kid, and he doesn’t get one. Bucky just cringes and tries to hide as much of his face against Steve’s thigh as possible, holding back the sounds that obviously want to come and making a face like he’s trying with all his might not to pass gas.

Steve tuts in gentle reprimand. “They call them the ‘happy hormones’. Dopamine, Serotonin, Oxytocin, Omgestrin.” He lets up on the pressure of his Hold when the smell of omega arousal hits the air. Bucky exhales hugely and slumps against him, all the tension from holding back his vocalizations leaving him in a rush. Steve hums knowingly. “You’ll learn about the science behind it in your classes.”

“I have to go to class?” Bucky asks, sounding wiped out. “Today?”

“No baby. Today is just for getting you settled in.” Steve tilts his head as he considers him. “Do you think you’re ready to work with me, or do you still feel like you’re gonna act up if I let go?” He waits him out patiently, knowing that when it’s new and unfamiliar, the first response most omegas give to having all of their control stripped away is fear and discomfort. “It’s okay if you need time,” he offers. “We can stay here for a little while longer.”

Eventually, Bucky gives a strained little shake of the head, his flushed cheek moving against Steve’s pants leg. But it’s more the fact that he’s visibly thought about his answer before giving it that convinces Steve they might be okay to move forward.

“Okay, good,” he praises, letting up most of the pressure from the back of Bucky’s neck. He smiles in relief when the boy doesn’t pull away. “Very good, Honey. I can tell you’re trying, and I appreciate that. You’re doing okay.” Bucky makes an unhappy little sound in his throat, but it’s more privately grumpy than it is bratty, so Steve lets it pass. “You’re a smart boy,” he tells him, carding a hand through his hair. “I’ve seen your transcripts, so I know you’re very bright. Smart omega like you, I’m sure you’ve got an idea about what’s landed you here. Some clue about why you’re in my office right now instead of back home in Boston. Am I right?”

“... yes,” Bucky whispers, like he’s still recovering the ability to articulate.

“Mmhm. Thought so.” Steve pets his hair. “Think you can tell me a little bit about that?” 

“... I get in trouble for things.”

“Yes. Your parents told me that.” Steve feels him start to tense at the mention of his parents. “I know you disagree with them on this. Hell, you probably disagree on most topics, right? You don’t want to be here, don’t think you need to be, and they think you do.” Bucky nods teresely and Steve hums. “Well don’t worry, I’m not going to make you lie and say you’re happy about being here. I know you’re not. But can we at least agree on one thing? That for whatever reason, and no matter where you think it stems from, you’ve been uncomfortable for a while?”

Against Steve’s leg, Bucky is tense. He gives a tiny nod. “Yeah,” he breathes.

“Okay. And could we maybe agree that the way you’ve acted hasn’t exactly gotten you where you wanted to be?”

Bucky scoffs. “Yeah. You could say that.”

Steve smiles sadly. “Okay. Okay, good. So that’s two things we can agree on. I bet I have your parents beat on that front, then, huh?” He scritches playfully behind the kid’s ear, but stills when it doesn’t elicit anything positive. “So, why do you think that is, Bucky? Why do you think you’ve had these issues?”

“Dunno,” he pouts. “I don’t think about it that much.”

“Well why do you think a judge agreed that your parents should have custody of you for an extra two years?” Steve asks. “Would you say you do things impulsively?”

Bucky shrugs. “I guess.”

“Hm. That doesn’t surprise me. I’ve met a lot of boys like you. Even helped a few of them, if you can believe it.”

Bucky grumbles at that, shifting restlessly on his knees. “You don’t know me,” he mutters. He tucks his face farther down, and then Steve catches the angry little “... this is bullshit” that he whispers under his breath. 

Steve pulls his hand away abruptly and widens his legs so that no part of him is touching Bucky. The omega sways in place and makes a fragile noise of surprise. He looks up at Steve and blinks, looking bereft. Poor thing hadn’t even realized he was taking such comfort from the contact until it was gone. 

“Stand up,” Steve says sharply, using his Voice and the abrupt switch in tone to catch the boy off guard. Bucky obeys without even thinking about it, rising to his feet in front of Steve with a light frown, once again looking like he can’t quite understand why he’s obeying Steve’s commands. Steve nods at him. “Good. Now take off all your clothes.”

“What?”

He prevents a tantrum by reaching forward himself and undoing Bucky’s belt. “Your clothes,” he repeats. “Take them off and show me your body, right now.” He plays on the boy’s pride by tacking on a scornful, “What? I thought you said you weren’t some shy virgin. Gotta get over that embarrassment real fast, Little one.” 

It works like a charm, Bucky’s countenance screwing up in anger before it smooths out again with false bravado. He squares his shoulders and makes direct eye contact with Steve as he toes off his shoes and finishes undoing his pants. He pushes them down and kicks them off to the side, then pulls his sweater hurriedly overhead. He stares at Steve once it’s off, and he probably thinks he’s acting so big and brave, but Steve sees him for exactly what he is: a scared little boy who doesn’t think he can depend on anybody else. 

“Panties too, Sweetheart,” Steve prods, and when Bucky can’t seem to bring himself to do it, he leans forward to help. He gently pulls the omega’s underwear down, easing the waistband past his genitals and down his thighs. He encourages him with gentle touches to step out, and then Bucky winds up holding onto his shoulders for balance as he helps him step out of the socks, one foot at a time. By the time Steve’s sitting back on the couch to have a good look at him, Bucky’s standing before him completely naked. 

Steve’s eyes track down to where he holds his arms ramrod straight at his sides, hands curled into tight little fists in an obvious effort not to cover himself. “Good girl,” Steve praises. “That was very good. Thank you.” He lets his eyes rake obviously up and down Bucky’s body, enjoying the sight of him, but more importantly letting Bucky see that he’s enjoying the sight of him. “You’re just lovely,” he tells him. On the Persian carpet, Bucky’s feet shuffle, shifting his weight in disquiet. “Shhh,” Steve chides softly. “Be still now, Honey. Let me look.”

The looking is, of course, not so much for Steve’s benefit as it is for Bucky’s. Steve’s already seen pictures and medical charts detailing every square inch of the omega’s body. This is about giving Bucky a taste of what it truly means to be vulnerable. He needs to feel seen, exposed, before he can ever truly learn to give in to his submissive urges. And he needs to learn to trust. Trust that the person caring for him won’t hurt him or let him down after he’s made himself vulnerable. It’s something that can only be gained through moments like this; experiences where he shows his metaphorical belly and bears his metaphorical neck. The more he learns to do that, the easier it’ll be to give in to what his body needs.

“Turn around and face the other way,” Steve says quietly, though still using his Voice to help him along in these first few moments of nakedness. Bucky obeys, turning, and Steve makes sure to rumble low in his chest for the boy to hear his approval. “Good girl,” he praises.

“M’not a girl,” Bucky grumbles, annoyed.

Steve tuts. “Come on, Buck. I’ve got two masters degrees and a Ph.D. And I just saw your little cocklet, didn’t I?”

“... yeah,” Bucky admits, though he also sullenly repeats: “M’not a girl,” under his breath.

“It’s a term of affection,” Steve scolds, eyes raking over the omega’s pert little backside. “Now be a good girl and stand still while Alpha looks at you.” 

Bucky’s buttocks tense, the sides flexing gorgeously in response to the domination of being called a “good girl” all over again. That flex of muscles is involuntary, and a dead giveaway that if Steve were to grab his cheeks and spread them right now, he’d probably find his little hole clenching and releasing, too. In his slacks, Steve’s cock thickens with renewed interest. Bucky starts to whine almost subvocally. He shuffles his weight on his feet again, and the motion causes the room’s light to catch on a faint sheen. It’s a small amount, but it’s there. Right by his taint and the swell of his little sac, he’s got some slick smeared on his inner thighs.

Steve has to take a deep breath and give his dick a cruel pinch while he’s still got Bucky facing the other way. “Good,” he murmurs, letting a few more seconds tick by. “Very good.” 

Bucky’s ass keeps flexing, muscles tensed and his hands still clenched up into tight little balls at his sides. “Can I move?” he grits.

“Not yet. Be still.”

Steve knows what’s going on in the kid’s mind and body right now. Most people watching Bucky would only recognize the anger, or the fear. It is those things, to an extent, but that’s not all it is. Even without that tantalizing little smear of slick, Steve would know, because can detect the deeper scent of satisfied omega. Bucky’s responding well to the orders and directions, miniscule as they are.

“Nobody wants to bully you here, honey,” Steve tells him gently. “It might feel like that at first. I bet that’s how you feel right now. I know you’re not used to such a … traditional pedagogy. But I want you to know I’m not doing this to be mean. Nothing that happens to you during your time here is done just to humiliate or demean you. It might make you feel that way at first, but in the end you’ll see that this is about helping you.”

Bucky’s facing the other side of the room, but Steve still hears the disbelieving scoff he gives. “I don’t feel like this is helping,” he says, tacking on a sarcastic “Sir” at the end.

Steve calmly leans forward and flicks the boy’s sac. Bucky yelps and all but jumps out of his skin, looking back over his shoulder with wide eyes and an outraged scoff. “Hey!”

“Hush. Turn back around and stand still.” Steve raises an eyebrow. “Unless you’d like another?” It’s almost amusing, how fast Bucky’s lips seal themselves into a thin line and he shakes his head with wide eyes. He turns around as ordered, and Steve softens. “Look,” he says gently. “I’ve been doing this for a long time now, and I’ve helped a lot of boys like you, okay? 

“You think you have,” Bucky counters mutinously, shoulders tensing a second later as he anticipates having his balls flicked again for brattiness.

The only reason Steve doesn’t do so, is because this is a point worth addressing. “No, Baby,” he counters sadly. “It works. It really does. This isn't just an Alpha’s ego talking, or whatever you may think it is. I haven’t been Headmaster at this school for almost two decades for nothing. Trust me, we produce the desired results.”

“... whose, though?”

“Excuse me?”

Bucky shifts nervously. “Whose? Desired results?”

Steve has got to smirk at Bucky’s backside, at that one. Even cowed, it’s clear this boy is going to be a challenge. “Let’s just put it this way,” he drawls. “If my methods here didn’t produce well-behaved omegas, parents wouldn’t still be sending me their children to educate at sixty-grand a semester. And if that doesn’t carry weight in your book, then think of this: If my methods didn’t produce happy, grateful omegas, then all of my omega alumnus wouldn’t still be donating millions of their own dollars back to their alma mater each year, now would they?”

He can see from the way that Bucky’s posture slackens, then stiffens, then slackens all over again, that the boy can’t come up with a counter argument to that one. “Good,” Steve says with finality. “Remember that. I really do mean it, Bucky. I want you to take it to heart when I tell you that everything that happens while you're here is for you. To make you happy and healthy.” He can practically hear Bucky’s brain working up there, and sure enough it only takes a moment or two more of bare-assed vulnerability before the omega is snottily asking,

“Any other advice, Headmaster?”

“Oh sure,” Steve says cheerfully. “For example, I’d definitely advise you to try and reign in your attitude while you’re here. You and your ass will have a much easier time of it, if you do.” He’s laying it on heavy right now, but he’s had plenty of students like Bucky, and he’s always found that it’s best to come in hard and fast with the dominance, take them by surprise and play to their bodies’ own instincts before they can gather too much of a defense. Still, he switches to speaking in his most gentle and reassuring Voice as he tells him, “You’re handling this well, Bucky. I’m pleased with you so far.” He gives it another long moment, and then he murmurs, “Okay, Honey. You can turn back around now. Face me.”

Bucky turns slowly, one foot at a time, shifting on the carpet until he’s made a full turn. Steve isn’t surprised to see his little cocklet at half mast. He smiles gently to let him know it’s okay. “I expected that,” he tells him. “Did you know that it’s normal for your body to react that way?” He waits, but Bucky gives no answer. He’s glaring at the floor and quite obviously clenching his teeth. Steve hums. “You’re probably pissed at me right now, yeah?”

“Yes.”

Steve chuckles. “I appreciate your honesty, Bucky,” he teases. “And I know you’re pissed. It’s obvious. I’d be surprised if you weren’t.” He pauses, waiting until Bucky’s eyes flick up to him before he pointedly looks at the boy’s penis. “But you’re also aroused. Why do you think that is?” Bucky’s lips tighten into a thin, unanswering line, and Steve sits forward on the couch cushion. “C’mere.” He spreads his legs wider and pats his knee. “Step closer to me,” he Voices, and that time Bucky does listen and come closer, despite the attitudinal little huff he gives. Steve stills him with hands on his hips. “Don’t be embarrassed,” he says, before reaching to take him in hand.

Bucky gasps, his stomach sucking in and his body tensing up like he’ll pull away. Steve’s palm makes a loud ‘clap!’ as he delivers a quick smack to the side of his ass. “Be still.”

“... what’re you gonna do?” Bucky squeaks.

“I’m going to touch your genitals,” Steve tells him calmly. “And you’re going to hold still, unless you want to earn your first spanking.” He looks up at him, meeting those wide eyes with a calm nod. “I’ll put you over my knee right now if you need it,” he promises. Then he raises an eyebrow. “Do you need it, boy?”

Bucky’s face screws up, and Steve is honestly surprised when he controls himself enough that the only thing out of his mouth is a terse, “No.” 

Steve smacks him again. “‘No Alpha’. Let me hear you say it.”

Jaw working in frustration, Bucky acquiesces with a gritted, “No, Alpha.”

Steve gives him a few seconds more of the warning look, just to make sure that he knows he’ll make good on the threat if he needs to. “Good,” he says, looking back between Bucky’s legs. “You know,” he muses, as he takes his time admiring the omega’s little prick. “This school isn’t just a place for academic learning. We teach all the classics, of course, but that’s probably the least important part of our curriculum. There are a lot of other things to learn: Manners, etiquette, self-care … and how to listen to your own body, how to understand what it’s trying to tell you, how to interpret the things you feel.” He cups his hand over Bucky’s cocklet and balls, holding them delicately in his palm. “I’ve barely touched you, yet you’re harder now than you were even thirty seconds ago. Do you know why?”

Above, Bucky gulps. “... fear boner,” he whispers, and when Steve snorts at that, he pouts and asserts, “It’s a thing.”

Steve smiles. “That’s cute, but no.” Gently, he takes Bucky’s stiff little prick in hand and plays with the wrinkle of foreskin that’s bunched at the tip. “Omegas are less than four percent of the population,” he murmurs. “And alphas not even double that. Which means, that despite your natural inclinations, you wind up spending most of your time around a bunch of betas. Of course it wouldn’t have been that way historically. Those things used to be arranged, but in modern society it has unfortunately become all too common.” He peeks upwards, pleased to see that Bucky’s staring down at him with parted lips and flushed cheeks.

“S-so?” he breathes.

“So, right now you’re in a room with an adult alpha male who’s touching you, and talking to you, and dominating you. And you’re biologically geared to respond to those things, especially when you haven’t had much regular exposure to alphas. That just increases your sensitivity. So that when I use my Voice, when you smell my scent, or when you see my big hand covering your tiny sex …” he cups him fully between his legs again and gives a little jostle “It’s all hardwired into your brain as positive, pleasurable. Your body likes it, seeks out more of it. That’s why you’re even getting a little wet right now.”

Bucky bristles in defense, “I’m not—”

“Shh. You don’t have to do that, honey. I already know.” Steve holds his prick and eases the foreskin down, revealing the delicate pink tip of him with an approving hum. “Mmhm. There it is. Look at that sweet little nubbin.” 

Bucky all but stumbles into him, whispering a breathless, “Alpha …”

“That’s right. Good girl.” Steve steadies him with a chuckle. “You’re okay. Don’t lock your knees, honey. See what happens?” He trails a fingertip over the adorable little line of Bucky’s erection, eliciting another whimper from the boy. “It’s okay for you to call me that. I am your Alpha while you’re under custody here, and you may not think you care about that, but your body does. So even though you’re feeling all these other kinds of other emotions right now—anger, fear, embarrassment; your mind and body are still going to fight you on it. They’re gonna prioritize and respond to what you need, and if you don’t change your behavior to reflect those same priorities, then the only outcome you’re gonna get is dysfunction and illness.”

“I’m not,” Bucky says weakly, brow furrowed. “M’not dysfunctive.” 

Steve smiles sadly. “Well first off, that’s not a word, baby.” He pulls on Bucky’s hips and leans back further into the couch, urging the boy to come down to sit on his lap. When he does, Syteve cups his chin and pecks him gently on the lips. It’s the most chaste kiss to ever exist, but the boy is still blushing when Steve pulls back enough to see his cheeks. Steve wraps an arm around his waist to draw him in against his larger body. “Now Bucky, I’m going to ask you something, and you don’t have to answer right away. I want you to take time to really think about it. And when you’re ready, you tell me.” 

The boy’s looking up at him with wide, confused eyes that pluck at Steve’s heart, and Steve swipes his thumb just under his plush lower lip. “When’s the last time you were happy?” he asks quietly. Bucky’s expression instantly screws up, but Steve hushes him. “I don’t mean just happy from having fun in the moment, or from a specific thing that happened. I mean ‘happy’ as in content, consistently and thoroughly. When’s the last time you can remember when you felt truly settled in your skin?” 

Bucky frowns. “I …”

“Shh. Remember what I said. Not right now. You just think on it.” Steve offers him a tender look and squeezes his chin. “You think you can do that for me?”

“... okay,” Bucky whispers. 

Steve smiles. “Good girl.” He claps his hand on Bucky’s leg. “In the meantime, we’ve got quite a few things we have to do to get you set up: administrative and practical. Are you ready to see your room, get your uniform, a tour of the grounds, all that good stuff?”

Bucky nods, looking almost faint in relief—likely at hearing that he’s going to be given clothing. “Yes,” he breathes eagerly. “Please.”

Steve chuckles and pats his waist. “Thought you might say that. Alright boy, get up. We’ve got a lot to do.”

This story is an ongoing commission for an amazing supporter who wishes to remain anonymous. If you have a story that you'd like to see custom written, send me a message on Tumblr or reach out on my Kofi.

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[lookofhisoceaneyes]

**The Best of the Best: Must-Read Fanfiction Gems**

2/4

Marvel Fandom: 

1. when i die i’ll sacrifice (more than enough for the afterlife) by notcaycepollard

when i die i’ll sacrifice (more than enough for the afterlife) - notcaycepollard - Captain America (Movies) [Archive of Our Own]

The fall is longer than Natasha expects.

It’s tears cold on her face, teeth bitten all the way through her lip and the taste of copper in her mouth; she’s falling and falling and then, bracing for impact—she wakes up.

---

main ship: Maria Hill/Natasha Romanov, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers

Oh my, Oh my, a kind of fix-it fic in which Natasha doesn't die but travels back in time and tries to make everything better. An absolute comfort fic for me. Quietnight has also recorded a really great podfic. Listen to it too!

the podfic: [Podfic] when i die i’ll sacrifice (more than enough for the afterlife) - quietnight - Captain America (Movies) [Archive of Our Own]

2. I'll explain everything to the geese by napricot

I'll explain everything to the geese - Chapter 1 - napricot - Marvel Cinematic Universe [Archive of Our Own]

Bucky is so competent that it hurts my feelings is not a rational complaint to have about a person, and yet, after a year of being Captain America and partnering up with Bucky for the new and improved, post-Blip Avengers, that’s kinda how Sam’s feeling.

It’s not great. It maybe leads to Sam making some rash, ill-advised decisions like claiming he has a previously undisclosed superpower, and then getting caught in a web of lies when he ends up actually developing that surprisingly inconvenient superpower. Talking to birds had seemed like a harmless superpower, but it turns out that birds have a lot of opinions, and they don’t hesitate to tell Sam about them, especially when it comes to his supposedly subpar courting skills. Which is ridiculous, because Sam isn’t courting Bucky. Right?

---

main ship: James "Bucky" Barnes/Sam Wilson

I love SamBucky fic where Bucky is competent and has a lot of skills. The fic is very humorous and well written. It's about lots of talking birds and a rather smitten Sam. Be sure to check out napricot's profile. Quietnight has also recorded a great podfic, check it out too:

podfic:[Podfic] I'll explain everything to the geese - Chapter 1 - quietnight - Marvel Cinematic Universe [Archive of Our Own]

---

3. ain't really quaint by quietnight, silentwalrus

ain't really quaint - Chapter 1 - quietnight, silentwalrus - Captain America - All Media Types [Archive of Our Own]

Natasha stops by on a Tuesday, early enough in the morning that it would have been late by Steve’s old standards. Now, though, it takes him nearly three minutes just to limp to the door, yawning, and when he opens it he has to lean heavily on the doorframe.

“Hi,” Natasha says, over the beginnings of birdsong. She’s not alone. “Can we come in?”

---

Main Ship: Steve Rogers/James "Bucky" Barnes 

You want a funny fic with comic accurate, Bucky Barnes, an absolute troll Steve Rogers (Who pretends to be a farmer?) Then you've come to the right place! Bucky is kind of a shy animal and Steve makes it harder for him than it should be. (In a funny way.)There's a great podfic from Quietnight here too (can you tell I love Quietnight's podfics?)

the podfic: [Podfic] ain't really quaint - Chapter 1 - quietnight - Captain America - All Media Types [Archive of Our Own]

4. the thing is by napricot

the thing is - Chapter 1 - napricot - Marvel Cinematic Universe [Archive of Our Own]

“I don’t have a problem!” Sam insists. “Bucky is not a problem. Bucky is on a beautiful journey of self-care and healing and making amends with his body, and I support him 100%.”

“Mmhmm,” says Sarah, and when Sam can tear his gaze away from Bucky, he sees that she’s fixing him with a sweetly compassionate gaze. He readies himself for some no-nonsense sisterly wisdom. In tones of deep sympathy, she says, “And you’re horny about it.”

Sam grits his teeth and grips the arms of his lounge chair. “I’m so horny about it, oh my god.”

Bucky is finally ready to make amends with himself, and specifically his body, but he might need to enlist some help. If that help involves kind of, sort of tricking an overworked Sam into doing some self-care and having some fun of his own, so much the better. Sam, meanwhile, is happy to help, it's just that helping Bucky is turning out to have the inconvenient side effect of falling for him too.

—-

Main Ship: Sam Wilson/James "Bucky" Barnes 

Healing Bucky Barnes? Therapy, yoga and a stressed-out Sam who can't cope? Sign me up! Another fanfic that's a real comfort fic. Maybe I just want to be in such good therapy myself, but who knows. It's definitely worth it!

5. Out of the Dead Land by orphan_account

Out of the Dead Land - Chapter 1 - orphan_account - Captain America (Movies) [Archive of Our Own]

Someone is building machines that look and act like people.

Meanwhile, the Winter Soldier tries to be Bucky Barnes.

—

Main Ship: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers

You want a fic where the Winter Soldier finds out he's Bucky Barnes? Join Bucky Barnes as he comes in from the cold. There's also a great podfic from Quietnight.

Podfic:[Podfic] Out of the Dead Land - Chapter 1 - quietnight - Captain America (Movies) [Archive of Our Own]

6. keep making trouble (til you find what you love) by squadrickchestopher

keep making trouble (til you find what you love) - squadrickchestopher - Marvel Cinematic Universe [Archive of Our Own]

“I am paying attention,” Clint says, glaring at him. He’s so done with this guy. “Your name is Cale Montague. You wear sunglasses both at night and inside, which means you’re doubly the tool I thought you were. Your first name is also a vegetable, so I’m guessing your parents were either hippies or super rich. You like to hit poor, defenseless guys, and your suit is very much a last season kind of thing. That about cover it?”

Montague looks a little nonplussed at this. Behind him, Barnes’s shoulders are shaking with muffled laughter. Clint stifles his own grin and waits for an answer.

After a moment, Montague pinches the bridge of his nose and says, “This is going to be a long night, isn’t it?”

—

Main Ship: James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton (this is Comic!Clint Barton)

You like comic accurate Clint Barton and Bucky Barnes? Then this is the fic for you. A good pinch of humor, action and a lot of bickering. There is also a fantastic Podfic. Make sure to check it out!

the podfic: (next post)

[biblenewsprophecy]

Why Do People Die?

What does the Bible teach about death? Why do people die? Do all die in Adam? Are the wages of sin death? What is sin? Why do righteous people die? Are people who are dead suffering or are they merely sleeping in their graves awaiting the resurrection? Did Jesus die so we can live again? Is there a time to die? Do people die at the time it is best for them as well as others affected by their death? Does this have biblical support? Is death one of "all things that work together for good"? Can death be a form of correction and/or and end of suffering from God? What about the second death? If we are to be resurrected, why die in the first place? Can this mortal put on immortality and this corruptible put on incorruption? What about love and John 3:16? Is there really a glorious eternity ahead? Should we be comforted by prophecies of Jesus' return and the resurrection? Steve Dupuie and Dr. Thiel address these matters.

A written article of related interest is available titled 'Why Do Christian People Die?'

BNP Youtube video link: Why Do People Die?

Why Do Christian People Die?

COGwriter

People die, even Christians.

Why?

Does the Bible give answers to that?

Yes.

The first time scripture mentions death is in the first book of the Bible:

16 And the Lord God commanded the man, saying, “Of every tree of the garden you may freely eat; 17 but of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil you shall not eat, for in the day that you eat of it you shall surely die.” (Genesis 2:16-17)

Adam ended up eating from that tree (Genesis 3:6) and died (Genesis 5:5).

The New Testament teaches:

22 For as in Adam all die, even so in Christ all shall be made alive. (1 Corinthians 15:22)

23 for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God (Romans 3:23)

23 For the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord. (Romans 6:23)

27 And as it is appointed for men to die once, but after this the judgment, (Hebrews 9:27)

So, the Bible says because of sin, humans will die.

But the Bible also teaches that God has a plan for eternal life through Jesus.

So while death happens to all flesh, it is not the end.

Death, itself, is like sleep–thus the dead are NOT suffering right now.

The idea that death is like sleep is what Jesus Himself taught:

18 While He spoke these things to them, behold, a ruler came and worshiped Him, saying, “My daughter has just died, but come and lay Your hand on her and she will live.”

19 So Jesus arose and followed him, and so did His disciples. 20 And suddenly, a woman who had a flow of blood for twelve years came from behind and touched the hem of His garment.

21 For she said to herself, “If only I may touch His garment, I shall be made well.”

22 But Jesus turned around, and when He saw her He said, “Be of good cheer, daughter; your faith has made you well.” And the woman was made well from that hour.

23 When Jesus came into the ruler’s house, and saw the flute players and the noisy crowd wailing, 24 He said to them, “Make room, for the girl is not dead, but sleeping.” And they ridiculed Him.

25 But when the crowd was put outside, He went in and took her by the hand, and the girl arose. 26 And the report of this went out into all that land. (Matthew 9:18-26)

49 While He was still speaking, someone came from the ruler of the synagogue’s house, saying to him, “Your daughter is dead. Do not trouble the Teacher.”

50 But when Jesus heard it, He answered him, saying, “Do not be afraid; only believe, and she will be made well.” 51 When He came into the house, He permitted no one to go in except Peter, James, and John, and the father and mother of the girl. 52 Now all wept and mourned for her; but He said, “Do not weep; she is not dead, but sleeping.” 53 And they ridiculed Him, knowing that she was dead.

54 But He put them all outside, took her by the hand and called, saying, “Little girl, arise.” 55 Then her spirit returned, and she arose immediately. (Luke 8:49-55)

11 These things He said, and after that He said to them, “Our friend Lazarus sleeps, but I go that I may wake him up.”

12 Then His disciples said, “Lord, if he sleeps he will get well.” 13 However, Jesus spoke of his death, but they thought that He was speaking about taking rest in sleep.

14 Then Jesus said to them plainly, “Lazarus is dead” (John 11:11-14).

In each of the above cases, the person was dead, but basically because this was NOT the permanent, second, death. Jesus said the person was sleeping. All who sleep in the grave will be resurrected and hear His voice (John 5:28). Jesus showed a foretaste of this by resurrecting those He did.

Related to death being like sleep, notice what some of what the Apostle Paul was inspired to write:

29 For he who eats and drinks in an unworthy manner eats and drinks judgment to himself, not discerning the Lord’s body. 30 For this reason many are weak and sick among you, and many sleep. (1 Corinthians 11:29-30)

12 Now if Christ is preached that He has been raised from the dead, how do some among you say that there is no resurrection of the dead? 13 But if there is no resurrection of the dead, then Christ is not risen. 14 And if Christ is not risen, then our preaching is empty and your faith is also empty. 15 Yes, and we are found false witnesses of God, because we have testified of God that He raised up Christ, whom He did not raise up — if in fact the dead do not rise. 16 For if the dead do not rise, then Christ is not risen. 17 And if Christ is not risen, your faith is futile; you are still in your sins! 18 Then also those who have fallen asleep in Christ have perished. 19 If in this life only we have hope in Christ, we are of all men the most pitiable. 20 But now Christ is risen from the dead, and has become the firstfruits of those who have fallen asleep. 21 For since by man came death, by Man also came the resurrection of the dead. 22 For as in Adam all die, even so in Christ all shall be made alive. 23 But each one in his own order: Christ the firstfruits, afterward those who are Christ’s at His coming. (1 Corinthians 15:12-23)

51 Behold, I tell you a mystery: We shall not all sleep, but we shall all be changed — 52 in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet. For the trumpet will sound, and the dead will be raised incorruptible, and we shall be changed. 53 For this corruptible must put on incorruption, and this mortal must put on immortality. 54 So when this corruptible has put on incorruption, and this mortal has put on immortality, then shall be brought to pass the saying that is written: “Death is swallowed up in victory.” (1 Corinthians 15:51-54).

14 Therefore He says:

“Awake, you who sleep, Arise from the dead, And Christ will give you light.” (Ephesians 5:14)

13 But I do not want you to be ignorant, brethren, concerning those who have fallen asleep, lest you sorrow as others who have no hope. 14 For if we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so God will bring with Him those who sleep in Jesus.

15 For this we say to you by the word of the Lord, that we who are alive and remain until the coming of the Lord will by no means precede those who are asleep. 16 For the Lord Himself will descend from heaven with a shout, with the voice of an archangel, and with the trumpet of God. And the dead in Christ will rise first. 17 Then we who are alive and remain shall be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air. And thus we shall always be with the Lord. 18 Therefore comfort one another with these words.  (1 Thessalonians 4:13-18)

Christians are to be comforted by God’s plan, which includes the dead being asleep until they are resurrected.

But why death?

Because sin is horrible and is not good for the sinner.

“Sin is the transgression of the law” (1 John 3:4, KJV). “Now the purpose of the commandment is love” (1 Timothy 1:5). “Therefore the law is holy, and the commandment holy and just and good” (Romans 7:12; cf. Deuteronomy 10:13).

Sin oppose love, distorts reality, causes corruption, and harms character.

Why do people die when they do?

The Bible teaches:

1 The righteous perishes, And no man takes it to heart; Merciful men are taken away, While no one considers That the righteous is taken away from evil. 2 He shall enter into peace; They shall rest in their beds, Each one walking in his uprightness. (Isaiah 57:1-2)

Notice that when God’s people die, they rest. As other scriptures show, death is like sleep.

Why do they die when they do?

Because they die when it is best for them.

It may be best because they will cease physical suffering.

It may be because negative events are coming that they would be best to avoid.

It may be because they refuse to properly repent further.

It would seem to be when that have learned/experienced what they need which will help them after they are resurrected.

The Book of Ecclesiastes teaches:

1 To everything there is a season, A time for every purpose under heaven:

2 A time to be born, And a time to die; (Ecclesiastes 3:1-2)

17 Do not be overly wicked, Nor be foolish: Why should you die before your time?  (Ecclesiastes 7:17)

While there is a time to die, notice that foolishness and wickedness can have one die earlier than what would otherwise happen.

Death may be best because they would ‘backslide’ more into wrong attitudes of sin if they did not die when they did so they do not commit what in known as the unpardonable sin.

We are to to grow and overcome:

18 … grow in the grace and knowledge of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. (2 Peter 3:18)

11 … He who overcomes shall not be hurt by the second death. (Revelation 2:7,11)

God want none to experience the second death and perish.

9 The Lord is not slack concerning His promise, as some count slackness, but is longsuffering toward us, not willing that any should perish but that all should come to repentance.  (2 Peter 3:9)

Yes, God will allow the flesh to perish to save the spirit. That is consistent with the following from the Psalms:

11 When with rebukes You correct man for iniquity, You make his beauty melt away like a moth; Surely every man is vapor. Selah (Psalm 39:11)

The above is consistent with God using melting away through aging and/or illness followed by dying to correct. The Hebrew word Selah means “pause” and death is merely a pause for Christians until they can gain eternal life.

Another reason death comes to God’s people is that may be best because they have built all the character that they will be able to build in this life.

The New Testament teaches:

28 And we know that all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are the called according to His purpose. (Romans 8:28)

All things would include death.

Notice also:

13 The Lord looks from heaven; He sees all the sons of men. 14 From the place of His dwelling He looks On all the inhabitants of the earth; 15 He fashions their hearts individually; He considers all their works.  (Psalm 33:13-15)

God considers all our works and has all work together best for us.

Because of that, it has long been my view that God has people die when it is spiritually best for them as well as for those who knew the deceased.

God is love (1 John 4:8,16).

What God does and allows is ALWAYS motivated by love–EVEN IF WE DO NOT UNDERSTAND IT (cf. Isaiah 55:8-9).

Love is why He sent Jesus to die for us:

16 For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have everlasting life. (John 3:16)

While there is sorrow with the sting of death, that is not the end. At risk of partial repeat, notice:

50 Now this I say, brethren, that flesh and blood cannot inherit the kingdom of God; nor does corruption inherit incorruption. 51 Behold, I tell you a mystery: We shall not all sleep, but we shall all be changed — 52 in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet. For the trumpet will sound, and the dead will be raised incorruptible, and we shall be changed. 53 For this corruptible must put on incorruption, and this mortal must put on immortality. 54 So when this corruptible has put on incorruption, and this mortal has put on immortality, then shall be brought to pass the saying that is written: “Death is swallowed up in victory.”

55 “O Death, where is your sting? O Hades, where is your victory?”

56 The sting of death is sin, and the strength of sin is the law. 57 But thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.

58 Therefore, my beloved brethren, be steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, knowing that your labor is not in vain in the Lord.  (1 Corinthians 15:50-58)

We do not labor in vain. The Book of Hebrews backs that up:

9 But, beloved, we are confident of better things concerning you, yes, things that accompany salvation, though we speak in this manner. 10 For God is not unjust to forget your work and labor of love which you have shown toward His name, in that you have ministered to the saints, and do minister. (Hebrews 6:9-10)

Notice the following from our free online book: The MYSTERY of GOD’s PLAN: Why Did God Create Anything? Why Did God Make You?

Everything God has done He has had a reason for (Ezekiel 14:23). Including the length of our lives, which is usually a mystery for us (cf. Ecclesiastes 9:12).

“Have faith in God” (Mark 11:22) as He has fantastic reasons for everything He does—even when it does not always seem that way to us (cf. Hebrews 12:11; Romans 8:28).

Many have erroneously judged God based on their own conclusions, yet the Bible also teaches:

5 Therefore judge nothing before the time, until the Lord comes, who will both bring to light the hidden things of darkness and reveal the counsels of the hearts. Then each one’s praise will come from God. (1 Corinthians 4:5)

Some things have been hidden. We also do not know everything about any human.

All people are not the same. God has an individual plan for each of us (1 Corinthians 12:4-12).

The dead in Christ will be resurrected. This should be of comfort to all true believers.

People die because of sin, but they die when they do because that is the best time for them to die, as well as for those affected by their death.

The resurrection is real and will happen.

The dead are not suffering, but are asleep.

UPDATE 03/26/24 : We just uploaded the following related video:

14:42

Why Do People Die?

What does the Bible teach about death? Why do people die? Do all die in Adam? Are the wages of sin death? What is sin? Why do righteous people die? Are people who are dead suffering or are they merely sleeping in their graves awaiting the resurrection? Did Jesus die so we can live again? Is there a time to die? Do people die at the time it is best for them as well as others affected by their death? Does this have biblical support? Is death one of “all things that work together for good”? Can death be a form of correction and/or and end of suffering from God? What about the second death? If we are to be resurrected, why die in the first place? Can this mortal put on immortality and this corruptible put on incorruption? What about love and John 3:16? Is there really a glorious eternity ahead? Should we be comforted by prophecies of Jesus’ return and the resurrection? Steve Dupuie and Dr. Thiel address these matters.

Here is a link to our video: Why Do People Die?

While there is sorrow, death fits as part of God’s loving plan for you and all others.

And that plan results in the resurrected Christian to be able to give love in a unique way to make the universe better for themself and every one else.

A glorious eternity is ahead.

Do not let the death of people dissuade you as the Bible also teaches that death will be destroyed (1 Corinthians 15:26) and there will be no more death, nor sorrow, or crying” (Revelation 21:4).

More on God’s loving plan can be found in the free online book: The MYSTERY of GOD’s PLAN: Why Did God Create Anything? Why Did God Make You?

Those interested in early Christianity may wish to check out the following to learn more:

What Happens After Death? Is death like sleep, or is that a cultic idea? Can you speak to the dead? Here is a link to a related sermon: What really happens after death?

A Better Resurrection Is it better to be called now? Is it better to be Philadelphian? Here is a link to a related sermon: The Better Resurrection.

What Did Early Christians Understand About the Resurrections? Is there more than one future resurrection? Did early Christians teach a physical resurrection? Did early Christians teach three resurrections? Here is a link to a related sermon: Understanding the Resurrections.

The Second Death The New Testament speaks of something called the “second death.” Who will be subject to it? How does it end? Here is a link to a related sermon: First death, Second death.

Study the Bible Course Lesson 15: What is “Hell”? What are the different words translated as “hell” in English? Does Gehenna mean something different than Hades. What happens? What about worms dying not?

Are The Wicked Tormented Forever or Burned Up? How does one explain Revelation 14:11 in light of Malachi 4:3? What happens to the incorrigibly wicked?

Did Early Christians Teach They Were Going to Heaven? What do the Bible and scholars teach? What about ‘near-death experiences’? Here is a link to a related sermon: Heaven and Christianity. A shorter video is Dante Aligheri’s Inferno, Heaven, and The Real Hope.

Did Early Christians Believe that Humans Possessed Immortality? What does John 3:16, and other writings, tell us? Did a doctrine kept adopted from paganism? Here is a YouTube video titled Are humans immortal? Beliefs of the Original Catholic Church: Could a remnant group have continuing apostolic succession? Did the original “catholic church” have doctrines held by the Continuing Church of God? Did Church of God leaders uses the term “catholic church” to ever describe the church they were part of? Here are links to related sermons: Original Catholic Church of God?, Original Catholic Doctrine: Creed, Liturgy, Baptism, Passover, What Type of Catholic was Polycarp of Smyrna?, Tradition, Holy Days, Salvation, Dress, & Celibacy, Early Heresies and Heretics, Doctrines: 3 Days, Abortion, Ecumenism, Meats, Tithes, Crosses, Destiny, and more, Saturday or Sunday?, The Godhead, Apostolic Laying on of Hands Succession, Church in the Wilderness Apostolic Succession List, Holy Mother Church and Heresies, and Lying Wonders and Original Beliefs. Here is a link to that book in the Spanish language: Creencias de la iglesia Católica original.

Hope of Salvation: How the Continuing Church of God Differs from Protestantism The CCOG is NOT Protestant. This free online book explains how the real Church of God differs from mainstream/traditional Protestants. Several sermons related to the free book are also available: Protestant, Baptist, and CCOG History; The First Protestant, God’s Command, Grace, & Character; The New Testament, Martin Luther, and the Canon; Eucharist, Passover, and Easter; Views of Jews, Lost Tribes, Warfare, & Baptism; Scripture vs. Tradition, Sabbath vs. Sunday; Church Services, Sunday, Heaven, and God’s Plan; Seventh Day Baptists/Adventists/Messianics: Protestant or COG?; Millennial Kingdom of God and God’s Plan of Salvation; Crosses, Trees, Tithes, and Unclean Meats; The Godhead and the Trinity; Fleeing or Rapture?; and Ecumenism, Rome, and CCOG Differences.

Is God Calling You? This booklet discusses topics including calling, election, and selection. If God is calling you, how will you respond? Here is are links to related sermons: Christian Election: Is God Calling YOU? and Predestination and Your Selection; here is a message in Spanish: Me Está Llamando Dios Hoy? A short animation is also available: Is God Calling You?

Universal OFFER of Salvation, Apokatastasis: Can God save the lost in an age to come? Hundreds of scriptures reveal God’s plan of salvation Will all get a fair chance at salvation? This free book is packed with scriptures showing that God does intend to offer salvation to all who ever lived–the elect in this age, and the rest in the age to come. Here is a link to a related sermon series: Universal Offer of Salvation 1: Apocatastasis, Universal Offer of Salvation 2: Jesus Desires All to be Saved, Mysteries of the Great White Throne Judgment (Universal Offer of Salvation part 3), Is God Fair?, Will God Pardon the Ignorant?, Can God Save Your Relatives?, Babies, Limbo, Purgatory and God’s Plan, and ‘By the Mouth of All His Holy Prophets’.

The MYSTERY of GOD’s PLAN: Why Did God Create Anything? Why Did God Make You? This free online book helps answers some of the biggest questions that human have, including the biblical meaning of life. Here is a link to three related sermons: Mysteries of God’s Plan, Mysteries of Truth, Sin, Rest, Suffering, and God’s Plan, Mystery of Race, and The Mystery of YOU. Here is a link to two videos in Spanish: El Misterio del Plan de Dios and El Misterio de Satanás, el Misterio de la Verdad, el Misterio del Reposo.

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The First Birthday

1 Week Before Your Birthday

"Aww..." Nat and Wanda coo in tandem. "He did all that for a birthday?"

Bucky's face drops, hearing Sam's embarrassing recollection as he walks into the room. "Sam, I told you to stop telling people that. They're going to think I care. Or worse that I have feelings."

"Oh, I'm never looking at you the same," Sam smugly continues. "He stayed up all night. Combed through files all by himself. Steve and I didn't help until we found him at like 3AM."

"What were you and Steve doing up together at 3 AM, Sam?" Bucky counters, turning his head in insinuation. 

"You guys," Nat teases, putting her arm around Sam's shoulder as Wanda's lips pull in to contain her cheeky grin. "So cute!"

Sam wrenches his shoulder out from under Nat's arm, eyes narrowing in accusation. "You know that we were playing games on the big TV. You know that so why do you say it like that?"

Bucky shrugs, feigning innocence. "All I'm saying is no one can corroborate that story."

"Okay, can we get back to the birthday thing?" Wanda interjects. "I can't get over that."

"I can't believe Bucky has feelings," Nat mutters.

"I don't," Bucky immediately objects.

"And he's thoughtful!" Wanda adds.

"No, I'm not. I'm mean and crass and grumpy-"

"James?" you call, from just outside the room.

"Yes, Doll," he chirps. "I mean, what?"

"You're so silly," you chuckle, walking into the room. "I'm heading out. Tony has me on like three different missions this week, so I probably won't see you until next week."

"Next week?" Bucky quietly whines, though he knows exactly why your schedule was completely overbooked. "That sucks."

"I know, but I'll call you when I can."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

"Okay," he sighs, gently kissing you. He pulls away after a moment, leaning his forehead against yours. "Please be careful."

"Always," you promise.

"Love you," he say, still holding your hand as you start to walk away.

You chuckle as he maintains a hold on your hand even as you pull away. "Love you too."

"Miss you," he calls after you.

"Oh yeah, a real macho man," Sam teases, jutting his thumb in Bucky's direction.

To which Bucky only responds with a sharp elbow into Sam's stomach.

"Now, if you're done being an ass. Is everyone clear on what they're doing?" Bucky asks, his kind, warm demeanor dropping the second you're out of earshot. 

"And...he's back," Sam huffs.  

"So you're not done being an ass?" Bucky sighs. 

"Can we focus, please? Bucky, you were delegating," Nat prompts. 

"Ordering," Sam corrects. 

"Right," Bucky states with a commanding nod. "Sam, you've got decorations. Wanda, you've got food and drinks. Tony's already invited everyone and is keeping her on missions all week. Steve's one job is to not blow the secret. And Natasha... don't let them mess this up."

"Got it," the group collectively nods.

1 Day Before Your Birthday

"I left you one job!" Bucky exclaims, his voice filled with annoyed disbelief as he scans the various bags of decorations splayed out on the table. "What the hell is this?"

"How do you not get it?" Sam scoffs, holding up the large pastel banner. "It's her first birthday!"

With two clenched fists, Bucky grits, "These are meant for a baby! For an actual first birthday!"

"That's part of the joke. Come on, it's funny!" Sam insists, looking around the room for anyone to back him up. 

Both Nat and Wanda avert their eyes from the two men, pretending to be completely immersed in their own separate conversation. 

"She's going to be 26! Not a year old!"

"Listen, you don't have to get the joke, but I know she will because, unlike you, we both have a sense of humor. But it doesn't matter," Sam assures, placing a comforting hand on Bucky's shoulder. "Either way...you're still a cradle snatcher."

Bucky wrenches his arm out of Sam's grip, pointing a threatening finger at Sam. "If you call me that one more time, Sam, I will not be responsible for what happens to you."

"Anyway..." Nat interjects, stepping between the two men. "Everything's ready to go for tomorrow. We're going to get started decorating bright and early and all you have to do is keep her busy."

"Great. I'll plan to bring her back at 5. Make sure everyone's here at-"

"By 4:30, we know," Sam monotonously drolls, repeating the words Bucky had drilled into their heads in preparation for this day.  

"Good," Bucky exhales, scanning the room to see everything coming together exactly as planned. And for some reason, it still doesn't feel like enough for you. After all this time alone, he wanted this to be absolutely perfect for you. He wanted to make up for all that time alone and forgotten. 

It takes Sam a moment to look up from the decorations to see an pensive, almost unsatisfied look on Bucky's face. Sam sighs, dropping his head and shoulders in defeat, "Now what?"

"Nothing," Bucky sighs. 

"Obviously something," Sam urges. 

Bucky's head lolls slightly as he scans the room of his friends all collaborating on this surprise party for you, debating whether or not to vocalize his worries about your birthday. "You think she's going to like all of this? I mean, she hasn't brought up her birthday at all. What if she doesn't want any of this?"

"I don't think she knows how she's supposed to act. This," Sam genuinely says, gesturing to the room. "It's all new to her. People caring. Putting in effort. Having a birthday. She's never had that before."

"Oh my God, I just wanna give her a hug," Wanda sadly mutters. 

"Can I be let out now?" Steve calls from the locked conference room next to the room where everyone else was party planning.  

"Did you learn to keep a secret?" Sam sarcastically replies. 

"No," Steve defeatedly sighs through the door.

12:00 AM- Day of Your Birthday (17 hours before)

"Pssst..." Bucky whispers, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. "Are you still awake?"

"No," you groggily groan, languidly shooing his arm away and curling yourself further into the blanket. 

"Kind of sounds like you are," he chuckles, pulling you closer to him.

"Is someone dying?" 

"Not that I know of."

"Then, I'm not awake," you huff, tucking yourself into the covers and out of Bucky's hold. 

"Hey!" Bucky whines. "Come back."

"Go to sleep," you exhale. 

"Fine, but one thing first," he says. In one smooth, quick movement, he tugs the blanket to turn you back to him.  "Happy birthday."

"Aww...you're so sweet," you coo, stroking his face cheek. "Thank you....Now let me sleep."

"Okay," he chuckles, pulling you back into his embrace. 

10:00 AM- Day of Your Birthday (7 hours before) 

When you finally creaked a lazy eye open, you were greeted two things, the bright light streaming through the sheer curtains and and uncharacteristically excited Bucky waiting for you next to your side of the bed. 

With one eye still closed, you groan, "Why are you watching me sleep?"

"Are you finally awake?" he chuckles.

You sigh, "Now I am."

"Happy birthday," he quietly exclaims, peppering light kisses all over your face. 

"You already said that," you giggle, half-heartedly pushing him away. "It's too early for this kind of excitement."

"No way! A birthday is once a year. We have no time to waste," he says, taking your hand to sit you up. Without explanation he leaves your bedroom, only to come back a few seconds later with a cheeky grin and a large tray in his hands. "And first things first, breakfast in bed."

You quirk a brow at him as he lays the tray on your lap. "You cooked?"

He scoffs,"I resent the implication that I can't make a simple breakfast."

Your eyes rake over the large assortment, the cup of coffee, stack of pancakes, eggs, hash browns, all plated next to a small cup of flowers and a note saying 'I will always love you'. Then, you turn back to him, your head playfully tilted with the same doubt-filled expression.

"Yes," he huffs. "I made this all by myself. I absolutely did not have FRIDAY giving me step-by-step instructions."

You press a sweet, chaste kiss on his stubbly cheek, "You're so sweet."

The two of you ate idly chatted as you enjoyed your breakfast in bed, relishing in the quiet moment. And after just over an hour, Bucky finally coaxed you out of bed with promises of a day that would make you forget that all your friends were called into an emergency mission. 

Walking hand in hand down the gravel pavement to his bike parked in the garage, Bucky asks, "So is there anything you'd like to do today?"

"Well..." you start, then falter when you realize that your plan was no plan. You maintained that if you had no expectations there would be no room for disappointment. "I've got nothing."

"There's nothing you want to do on your first ever birthday?" 

"Honestly, it's enough to know that I have one."

"Come on," Bucky cajoles. "We have to do something."

"I really don't want to make a big deal. It's just another day...A day that ages me an entire year."

"Oh, you're supposed to save the existential crisis for the day after your birthday," Bucky sarcastically remarks. 

"Oh," you nod, feigning a serious expression that breaks only a moment later with Bucky's laugh. 

He tugs at your hand as he stops in front of his bike. He lightly leans against the bike, looping an arm around you, "It's your birthday. That's something to celebrate."

4:00 PM- Day of Your Birthday (30 Minutes Before)

After intense deliberation and persuasion from Bucky, you two took a drive from the Compound into the city where you spent the day playing tourists. Though you'd lived in the city with Sam for almost a year before moving into the Compound, you never really visited any major tourist attractions. You walked through Central Park and Times Square hand in hand, visited the Empire State building, and the Statue of Liberty. 

It was a whirlwind, glee-filled day. 

But despite the fun-filled day, there was a pesky little voice in the back of your mind that kept reminding you that everyone else had forgotten. Even Sam. 

You kept reminding yourself that your friends owed you nothing, they were on a mission and sometimes it simply couldn't be helped. You were certain that if they were here, they'd remember. Right?  

You silently chanted that you held no expectations. But somewhere along the way, expectations, hopes for your very first birthday, somehow seeped in.

And though you wanted to go home and wallow as you watched movies on the couch, Bucky insisted on making your birthday a special day. So instead of movies at home, he brought you to a movie theater. You didn't quite understand his insistence but you did appreciate how much effort he was putting into making your birthday special. 

"Sam," Bucky hisses, keeping a close eye on you as you wait in line at the concession stand, just hoping you couldn't tell that for the last two hours he'd been flying by the seat of his pants. 

He could tell you were doing your best to keep a placated expression as though it didn't bother you that most of your friends had forgotten your birthday. He also knew that this was exactly the reason you wanted to do absolutely nothing for your birthday, you didn't want the let-downs after building this moment up in your head after so many years. "You were supposed to be done already! How much longer?"

"We're doing our best. But I'm surrounded by idiots," Sam seethes, now clearly speaking to the people around him instead of Bucky, "Because apparently we can land jets and shoot alien guns, but asking for a balloon arch is too difficult. No! Why would we hang the banner over- Buck, I'm gonna have to call you back."

"Sam," Bucky objects, but the line is already dead. 

"What was that?" you ask, handing Bucky the bucket of popcorn.

"A reminder that I'm surrounded by idiots," he mutters, shoving his phone back in his pocket. 

"Okay..." 

"It was nothing. Sam had a question about the mission."

"Oh," you nod, and Bucky's heart clenches when he sees your smile drop. 

"He wanted to talk to you, but he's got shitty reception with the satellite phone."

"Oh," you nod again, though this time, Bucky can see a hint of a hopeful smile pull at the corner of your mouth.

6:00 PM- Day of Your Birthday (2 Hours After 30 Minutes Before) 

After a overall incredible day, you were mostly content with your birthday. It was more than you'd ever gotten, you reminded yourself. You spent a fun day with the person you loved most. And you told yourself over and over that you needed no more than that.

But there was still that achey feeling in the pit of your stomach that everyone else simply forgot. 

"Why are we walking through this way?" you ask as Bucky guides you down the side entrance of the Compound, the most indirect route possible that rounded almost the entirety of the Compound. 

Bucky nonchalantly shrugs, lying through his teeth to keep you away from the your surprise party, "Scenic route."

"Scenic route?" you mutter, clearly not believing him. 

"...And the last time I left my bike in the garage someone scuffed it," he begrudgingly admits, reconciling that at least that part was true, he was just omitting the rest. 

"And this person is still alive?" you sarcastically remark. 

Bucky rolls his eyes, "Ha-ha."

When you make it back to your bedroom and before Bucky can tell you otherwise, you kick off your shoes at the doorway and eagerly flop onto your bed. 

"Nope," Bucky objects, a cheeky grin on his face. 

"No, what?" you ask, propping yourself up on your elbows.

"I can't end the day without wining and dining my girl."

"No," you whine, flopping yourself back on your bed. "Can we just stay in?"

Bucky pulls you back up off the bed once more, desperately trying to keep the secret that there was a room full of your closest friends waiting for you while simultaneously urging you to leave you room. "No, it's your birthday. I want to take you out for a nice dinner."

You throw your head back. "We could have a nice dinner here."

"Please," he pleads, gently pulling you toward the door.

"Fine," you dejectedly sigh.  

"Well, don't sound so excited," he chuckles.

6:30 PM (2 Minutes Before)

You forcefully sigh as you exit your bathroom, "Okay, I'm ready."

"Damn," Bucky cheekily whistles, already fully dressed the dark blue button down that you loved. His hands are planted at his sides as he sits at the foot of your shared bed watching as you smooth your dress for the evening. It was more than a little funny to him that out of all days, today was the day you abandoned your bright colors for a little black dress. "You got a boyfriend?"

In spite of yourself, you laugh at Bucky's playful demeanor as he tugs you closer to him, "You're such a dork."

"Only for you, Doll," he hums, pulling you into a sweet, languid kiss. "You look beautiful."

"Thank you," you trill. "The compliments almost make it worth leaving our room."

"Just trust me, you're not going to regret it."

"Very sweet, but very cryptic."

"I have to keep some tricks up my sleeve," he says, less than subtly guiding you down to the room where all your friends were waiting. 

"Why are we going this way?" you lightly question, figuring that he's leading you back to the garage to borrow Sam's car without his permission again. "You know Sam hates when you borrow his car."

"Just trust me. It's a short cut," Bucky insists, ushering you into the dark room instead of out of the building. 

"Since when-"

Before you can even finish your sentence lights flicker on overhead and the silence is broken by loud, overenthusiastic, scattered cheers, "Surprise!" 

You're shellshocked, and your eyes flicker all around the room unable to settle on one singular element of the pleasantly chaotic surprise. 

"I thought- I thought," you stammer, feeling choked up at the party filled with everyone you know, the people that always showed you unconditional love. "I thought you guys forgot."

"Forgot?" Sam scoffs as though you've deeply offended him by even thinking that he could forget and pulls you into a tight hug. "Bucky wouldn't let us. You should've seen him-"

"Shut up, Sam," Bucky interjects, punching him in the shoulder as he pulls away from you. 

"Oh, tell the birthday story again!" Nat prompts.

"Please don't," Bucky huffs. 

"You guys! This is so nice," you praise, your heart swelling with unbridled joy as you take in the thoughtfulness of the gesture. You look around the room to find your favorite foods lined up on the table, decorations in your favorite pastel yellow, to the decorations that celebrate your 'first birthday'. "Aw... because it's my first birthday, how creative!"

"Told you she'd get it," Sam mutters under his breath.

"Don't ruin this," Bucky scolds, only loud enough for Sam to hear. 

"Can I be let out now?" Steve calls from the conference room. 

10:00 PM- Day of Your Birthday

"Awww," you marvel, holding up the polaroid that Sam just gifted you. "This is perfect. Thanks, Sam."

"Well, since you like old things," Sam pointedly remarks, his eyes unsubtly flickering between you and Bucky. "Get it, like Bucky? Because he's old."

"There's not a person in this room that didn't get that Sam," Nat sighs, taking the camera from you and placing in down on the table with the rest of your gifts that arranged from funny gag gifts to thoughtful like the prank box Nat got you for you and Sam to wreak havoc around the Compound, to sweet little gifts like the pair of yellow sunglasses from Peter because they matched 'your vibe', to meaningful gifts like the Polaroid camera from Sam. 

"Wait, Bucky's got something too!" Steve states, gesturing to the gift tucked beneath the table. 

Bucky sharply elbows Steve, hoping that he would've been able to give you your gift in private, he mutters, "You really don't know how to keep your mouth shut, do you?" 

"Not even a little bit," Steve cheekily agrees, handing the box to Bucky anyway. 

"It's kinda stupid," Bucky stammers, shrugging to feign nonchalance as he hands you the neatly wrapped gift. 

You roll your eyes, waving away Bucky self-depreciation. The gift seated in your lap, you carefully peel away the wrapping paper to reveal a large wooden box. You share another fleeting look with a faintly blushing and slightly uncomfortable Bucky before you slowly creak the lid open. Your eyes flicker between all the little trinkets, toys, and other small items in the box. Old CDs, little knick-knacks, children's toys, and a plethora of other seemingly random items. "What is this?"

"It's sort of your very own time capsule," Bucky meekly explains, his hand rubbing at the nape of his neck. "Toy, CDs, other stuff from around the time you were a kid. Just some things from the last 25 years that I thought you might like to have."

"I love it," you whisper in awe of the thoughtfulness. "Thank you."

"I am never looking at Barnes the same way," Tony quietly remarks to Wanda.

"Wait until Sam tells you the birthday story," Wanda adds. 

Bucky ignores his friend's remarks, leaning in to softly kiss your lips, "Happy Birthday."

AnonymityIsFun Masterlist Grumpy Sunshine Series Masterlist

[justmeinadaze]

We're A Family Part 17 (Steddie X You)

A/N: Thank you for your patience with me. I'm still moving a bit slow but I've been living in my comfort fics while writing a new comfort fic so yeah <3

Warnings: Dads Steddie and Mama Fem Reader, SMUT, mostly near the end with a lot of passion between da boys. FLUFF , we have an adorable addition to the Munson-Harrington crew <3 as well as Ro's birthday. ANGST because I'm me, Steve does something stupid with the best intentions, Him and Eddie get into a fight, Eddie's dad makes a cameo, Eddie talks about first moving in with Wayne, Dylan talks about divorce (dont panic! Its fine. We're all fine. Im not that angsty.) and I think that's it.

Word Count: 5369

“Ok, ladies and gentlemen, what are the bets this time around?” The doctor grins as he looks at your little family. 

“We’re at 3 to 2 with girl being in the lead.”, Steve beams.

“I love it. Let’s take a look.”

It had been about four months since you found out you were pregnant again and this time around was rough. The first few months were spent throwing up pretty much everything you ate and your cravings had been stronger than they had been before. You found yourself getting grumpier and more irritable which the boys didn’t seem to mind, doing everything they could to make things easier. 

You got the house by the lake and everyone (especially Wayne) was excited for the move. Aurora’s birthday was coming up soon which, while still happy, always made you and Eddie nervous. That first year his mom showed up at your door and the two birthdays after she called his phone begging him to come speak at his father’s appeal. 

Steve finally told his mom that you were pregnant with his biological child and she was over the moon. He begged her not to tell his dad and so far she seemed to honor his request. 

“Alright, Munson-Harrington gang. Congratulations, it looks like we have a healthy baby boy!”

***

“Ok, we have to think of a name.”, Eddie mused as he took a bite from the burger on his plate. “What do you think, kid?” Dylan shrugs causing the metalhead to playfully role his eyes. “You’re no help. What about you, my angel?”

“Han.”, Aurora smiles as she chews on her fries.

“I wouldn’t hate that. Harrison Ford in those earlier movies was so sexy.”

Your son makes a face as both men laugh. “You don’t have any special memories with a name? Like I did with Ro?”

Eddie thought for a moment before a smirk crept across his lips. “James.”, he nods, shifting his gaze towards you two. “When my mother left me with Wayne, I was confused. I genuinely thought she would be coming back so I sat on his couch by the door and just waited. Every now and then he would ask if I was ok or if I needed something and I always told him no. Right before dinner that night, he sat at his little table in the trailer with this rickety, old acoustic guitar and started playing Dio’s Rock n’ Roll Children.”, he chuckles. 

Dylan leaned against his side and Eddie lifts his arm to wrap around his shoulders. 

“Now my uncle is a god-awful singer but man could he play. I was so fascinated by how his fingers moved that I got up to sit with him. He smiled, placing a sandwich in front of me and I ate as I watch him. From that moment on, I knew I wanted to play the guitar. It took me a few days to realize Lynn wasn’t back but Wayne was always there with a new song. Anyway…”, he sighs as his voice becomes lighter. “The lead singers name is Ronnie James.”

You and Steve smile at him as you caress his leg under the table with your foot. 

“I like James.”

“Me to.”, the other man agrees. “James Wayne Munson-Harrington.”

#########

 “Oh, Y/N, you guys don’t have to do that.”, Wayne bashfully grins. 

“We know but we’re going to because we want to.” Winking at him, you stick your fork into the cake on the counter. 

“Honey, we have plates.”

“Yes, baby, we do. It’s this thing UNDER the cake.” Steve playfully narrows his eyes in your direction. “Look everyone else said they were full and I’m eating cake for two!”

He holds up his hands defensively as Eddie rounds the corner with Ro who reaches for her grandpa, demanding he hold her. 

“Listen here you. No more birthdays. We’re stopping today at four, understand?”

“No, granpa! I…be…a big girl.”, she declares tossing her hands in the air. 

The phone rings and Steve chuckles as he reaches over to answer it.

“Hello?”

“Hello. This is a collect call from Hawkins Penitentiary from inmate: Al Munson. Will you accept the call and charges?”

The man glances at Eddie who now has a big smile on his face as he tickles Aurora who in turn hides in Wayne’s neck hoping her father can’t reach her. After a few seconds, he hangs up.

“Who was it, baby?”, you ask.

“Wrong number.”

****

Steve’s foot bounces as he waits behind the glass, eyes constantly searching his surroundings. A guard on the other side, opens a door and brings over the prisoner placing him front of the awaiting man. He had never met Eddie’s dad but he had seen a few pictures. The inmate looking at him now was much older and worn by prison life. He did have a lot of his husband’s features especially in the face but his eyes weren’t as soft as Eddies. 

“You’re not my son.”

“No…no I’m not and neither is Eddie.” Allen squinted at his guest in confusion. “Look, I just came down here to tell you and Lynn to leave him alone. Every time we change our number, you guys always find it again and bother him on what is supposed to be a day about his daughter, not you. He spent so much time worried about you both and paying for the sins of everything you guys did to him. It’s time for him to be happy.”

“I see. And what are you going to do if I don’t, Mr. Harrington? Call the cops?”, he snickered. “I have done more than enough time to pay for my own sins. Edward could really help me out here and as my son he should want to.”

“What he wanted was a father and he found that in Wayne when your wife abandoned him. He gave up on you a long time ago.”

“Why are YOU here? Do you speak for him now since you fuck him?” Steve’s eyes narrowed in annoyance at the man’s comment. “Oh yeah. I know about you, him, and that girl…what’s her name. Honestly, I don’t give a shit about any of that. If my son wants to bend over and—”

“Don’t. Don’t fucking finish that sentence, Allen, or I swear God.”, he growled. “Listen, leave him alone and I can help you in here.”

“How can you help me?”

“I have some money set aside. I can give you some to make things a bit easier.”

Eddie’s dad’s jaw clenches as he weighs his options. “$500 a month and we have a deal.”

###########

A few months had passed and your little family had moved into your new home. Right on time to because about a month after James decided he was ready to join the Munson-Harrington clan. 

Aurora was completely fascinated by the new baby. 

“Dada, bra-der tiny.”

“He’s going to be tiny right now, honey. You have to be very careful with him.”

Her eyes widen as she gently pets the top of his head before leaning down to kiss his nose.

One night while he was crying, she watched as Eddie heated up a bottle and rocked him in his arms as he fed him. 

“Daddy, what’s wrong wit James?”

“He’s just hungry, princess. Babies eat EVERYTHING.” He widened his eyes making her laugh. “Do you want to help me?”

She nods, following him to the couch and takes a seat in his lap. Placing her little hand on the bottle, he allows her to hold it up as the baby continues to suck at its contents eagerly. 

Where Ro was a daddy’s girl, James was a mama’s boy. He loved being in your arms the most and the first time he smiled it was because you were kissing his chubby cheeks. 

Dylan, as always, was a wonderful big brother. He helped out where he could and even offered to babysit his siblings every now and then so you and the guys could spend some time alone. 

“Hey mom. I need some money for baseball. They said that we need $100 for boosters and some equipment.”

“Geez, isn’t that what boosters is for? To raise money for you people?” Dylan beams at you as he gives you a hug making you smile. “Steve? Little man needs $100 of baseball.”

“Jesus, why so much?”

You glanced in his direction taken a bit off guard. Usually when it came to the kids, if they needed anything financially, he didn’t think twice. Between the three of you, money wasn’t as tight but with the new baby and house things weren’t as easy as before so you let it go. Dylan answered his question and he dug in his wallet to give his son what he needed.

“Everything alright, babe?”

“Huh? Yeah, you know me. I just want to make sure we have everything, you know?”

Your head tilted to the side as your wife and mother senses started tingling again. He was hiding something but what could it be? If it was something involving a surprise for you or the kids his face and body language would normally radiate excitement. Something was wrong. 

“Hey, Dylan, do you mind keeping an eye on the other weirdos while I talk to Steve for a minute?”

He nods as you grab the man’s hand and tug him out towards the back porch. 

############

When Eddie got home from work, he found you sitting on the couch gnawing on your thumb as Steve paced in the living room. His eyes found yours as you motioned for him to come sit beside you. 

“Is everything ok? Where are the kids?”

“I asked my sister to watch them so the three of us could talk.” You softly smile as you kiss his cheek. “Steve has something he needs to tell you.”

“Okay? What’s going on, Stevie?”

The way Eddie looked up at him with concerned eyes made him feel so much worse at what he was about to tell him. 

“Um, so, remember how on Aurora’s birthday, you were ecstatic because your mom hadn’t called? Well, uh, your father actually called from prison that day. I answered and hung up on him.”

As the man spoke, you kept your eyes on the metalhead’s face as it slowly fell.

“I-I-I went down there to see him, Ed, and I warned him to leave you alone. He said he needed you and was tired of being in jail, that he and Lynn wouldn’t stop until you showed up at an appeal. So…” Steve’s panicked gaze shifted your way before he looked directly at the man he loved. “For the past few months, I’ve been paying Allen $500 to leave you alone.”

Eddie’s jaw tightened as he tilted his head subtly towards you. 

“Did you know about this?”, he whispered.

“No. I just found out everything today.”

He nodded as he rose to his feet, placing himself in front of Steve. 

“Eddie, I swear, I was trying to make things easier for you. I hated—”

The metalhead’s fist flew knocking the man backwards before climbing on top of him and swinging his arms. 

“Eddie, baby! Stop!” You tried to break them apart but he was too strong. Quickly, prepared for anything, you pushed a few buttons on your phone, sending a text to the one person you knew could get through to him. Three minutes later, Wayne flew in and pried his nephew off the man beneath him. 

“Hey! That is enough! I need you calm down, son.”

“How dare you fucking go behind my back like that, Steven! I told you both NOT to go down there!”

“I was trying to help!”

“By giving him money that can be used for our family, you fucking asshole! You think this is going to stop him?!” He tried to charge at the man again but his uncle held him back. “You have no idea what he’s like. I do!”

“Steve, maybe, you should go for a drive or something. Let him cool down.” He glanced your way and you softly nodded in agreement causing the man to hang his head as he quietly left the house. “Now you look at me, Ed.” Wayne grabbed the metalhead’s face forcing him to focus as he murmured low enough so only he could hear. 

“Eddie, I know you’re angry. I completely understand that but I need you breathe, ok? Your kids may not be here but Y/N is and she’s worried.” His chocolate eyes glanced at your concerned face as you hugged your arms around your body. “There you go. Can you sit on the couch calmly?”

He nods as he moves to take a seat. Without looking your way, his ringed fingers gesture for you to come closer and he pulls you onto his lap, hugging you to his chest. 

“I’m sorry if I scared you.”

“You didn’t. When he told me what he did, I was angry to. Not just because of what he did but because I knew it would hurt you. Eddie, you know how Steve is. He genuinely thought he was protecting you.”

“No. No, Y/N. This is serious. This isn’t like when you went to his mom for money so he could go to school. My father isn’t someone who can be trusted. So many things can go wrong that can get Steve in real trouble. I…”, he shakes his head as he feels his anger rise again. 

“Baby, I’m not excusing what he did but, maybe, if you explain to him more about your father and how this could backfire—”

“Which I could have done if he came to me first.”

“I know, honey. I know.”, you coo as you rub his chest. “Wayne, would you like to stay here? You’re more than welcome. Plus, I’m sure the kids would love to see you when they come back tomorrow.”

***

Eddie’s uncle did spend the night while Steve ended up sleeping a hotel. He texted you letting you know where he was and that he thought it was best to give his husband some space. 

The two youngest kids were excited to see their grandpa when they got home but Dylan sensed something was wrong especially when he walked in and noticed his dad wasn’t there. 

“Is it because I asked for money?”

“No, baby. No.”, you whispered as you kissed his forehead. “He’ll be home later.”

Your answer didn’t seem to sooth him as he sat next to Wayne and watched him try to make James smile. 

“Sir, you have the fattest little belly I have ever seen. I could just…”, he made munching noises in his stomach making the baby giggle as he scrunched his head into his shoulders. 

“Beep beep.”, Aurora parroted as the front door opened and Steve cautiously entered the home. “Dada!” She ran to his arms and he scooped her up giving her a big hug. “Dada, you have an ouch.” When she pointed to the light swelling where Eddie had hit him, he flinched slightly. 

“Yeah, dada is dumb.”

“No.”, she giggled before pointing at Wayne. “Granpa is here. He…he’s making…bra-der happy.”

Dylan’s eyes scanned Steve carefully as he sat across from him in one of the chairs. “You alright, dad?”

“I’m fine, dude. I just missed you guys.”, he smiles. 

You come around the corner and playfully swat at Ro’s curls before tickling her neck with your finger. “You. Scoot so I can say hi to dada.”

“Mama! Stop.”, she laughs as she slides down and sticks her tongue out at you. “You’re mean!”

You laugh along with her as you climb onto Steve’s lap and wrap your arms around his neck. 

“Are you okay?”

“No. I hurt someone I love. He should have hit me harder.”

“Baby…”, you sigh as you press your forehead to his cheek. “We’re going to talk again later after the kids go to bed especially since he’s had time to calm down and process everything.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you guys. I know I should have—” You fingers cut him off as you place them on his lips. 

“We have eyes on us. Later, ok?”

Steve’s own orbs scan the room finding Dylan watching you both as well as Aurora before she smiles and waves in your direction.

###########

One benefit of having three parents in the house is everyone can focus on one of the kids at any given time. After coming in to check on Ro and kiss her, Eddie stayed behind to tuck her in. As you passed Dylan on the couch downstairs, you poked your head into James’s room to find Steve with a sleeping infant in his arms.

“Alright, my love.”, you exhaled as you dramatically plopped your body down next to your son. “Time for you to go upstairs and get ready for bed.” Silently, he turns off the tv and begins to stand but you tug on the back of his shirt, bringing him down into your arms. “I know you and I know your big, beautiful brain. You’re a worrier like me. You didn’t do anything wrong, ok? You know we don’t mind giving you money for something you enjoy.”

“Everything got weird after I asked.”

“And that has nothing to do with you. Believe it or not, adults have issues sometimes that don’t involve their kids.” Dylan chuckled at your sarcasm as you kissed his cheek.

“I just don’t want to be the reason you guys get divorced or something.” 

As he began to stand, you quickly yank him back again. “Baby, they aren’t Charlie. Just because Steve wasn’t here this morning doesn’t mean that we’re going to break up. The three of us have been together too long and been through too much. And…”, you sigh hating the thoughts that fill your mind as you continue. “Playing the devil’s advocate here, if for some reason we ever did break up, I assure you no matter what, that reason would never be because of you guys or anything you did.”

Dylan smiles as he hugs you before getting to his feet and pulling you up with him. As Eddie comes down the stairs, he meets him half and tugs him into a hug.

“I love you, kid.”

“I love you to.” 

The moment he hears his footsteps bang up to his room, Steve appears and softly smiles in your direction. 

“Counseling degree at work again?”

“No, that would be my mom degree. I saw it on his face when you came home. Even though he knows you guys aren’t like Charlie, I think there’s still a part of him that feels like he could lose you at if one thing goes wrong.”

“I know the feeling.”, Eddie mumbles as he shuffles his feet. “Sometimes I was afraid Wayne would give up on me to. Obviously, that never happened.”

Your hand gently rubs his back and you gesture with your head for you three to head for the bedroom. 

***

The silence was deafening as you sat on the bed near the headboard as Eddie placed himself on the edge with his chin near his chest. Steve pulled one of the chairs from the living room so he could sit in front of you both, fidgeting with his fingers as he waited for someone to speak. 

“Did he ask you for money or did you offer?”, the metalhead asked. 

“I offered. He came up with the amount.”

“Steven, what do you know about prison? In general, I mean.”

“Uh…”

“Did you know that things are snuck in all the time? Drugs, weapons, food, etc.” Steve shook his head. “Did you know he can use your money to get shit like that or give to other inmates to do that? Did you know that people could find out where he’s getting so much money from and send people to harass you for the same treatment?”

When the man shook his head again, his eyes downcast towards the floor in shame. 

“Do you know how I know that? The first time my father went in Wayne tried to help him by sending him $100 a month. A couple months later he asked for more and my uncle told him no. The next day someone broke into his trailer and stole half his shit. We learned later Allen owed some people inside money and when they found out he would be getting out soon they wanted it all upfront. When Wayne told him no, my dad told them where he had been getting the cash from so they sent people to get the rest however they could. Thankfully, he was at work that night.”

“Eddie, I…”

“You’d think prison would reform him but it doesn’t. That’s why he’s there, Steve. He does the same shit in there that he did when he was out. He cons people or steals from them and every time he always loses.”, he sighs angerly. “And that’s just one of the many reasons I’m pissed. We just had a fucking baby, Steven! $500 barely covers half of what he needs, plus Aurora and Dylan’s essentials. That’s for the kids. The three of us need things to including this house!”

You scoot closer and wrap your arms around him as you lean against his shoulder. You had never seen him like this. When he had gotten angry with his mom at Ro’s first birthday that was one thing. Right now, this was fury out of fear for you five and something that could have been avoided if—

“But I think what pisses me off the most is you didn’t fucking talk to me. I have always been up front with you when it came to your parents and especially your dad. Your dad isn’t like mine Steve. He could get someone fucking killed and I’ll be damned if it’s someone in my family. I don’t just ignore him and Lynn for me. I do it to protect you guys. It’s a simple thing and you made it way more complicated.”

A tear escaped down Steve’s cheek that he quickly wiped away as he sat up straighter and cleared his throat.

“I’m, um…I’m sorry, Eddie. You’re right. I should have talked to you, both of you. No matter what my intentions were. I—”

“Don’t do that.”, you cut him off. “Don’t do that authoritative, businessman style voice and dialogue you do because you think it’s what people want to hear.” His eyes roll as his leans forward and his leg bounces. “Be honest, Steve. Be yourself.”

“When he called you were making Aurora laugh, Ed, while Wayne was holding her. Y/N, you were eating cake out of the pan with a fork because you were pregnant and you and Dylan were leaning against each other smiling…it was perfect. A perfect fucking day without Charlie causing problems or Lynn calling to trigger his pain. My dad wasn’t appearing out of nowhere to fuck shit up or you mom to remind you that you’re still the town whore!” Steve’s beautiful brown irises looked at anything but you two as he tried to control his emotions. 

“For this one moment, everything was exactly as it should be. Then your dad called, Eddie, reminding me something was always waiting…looming in the background to fuck everything up. So, yeah, I went down there to protect us; to protect you. Motherfucker is lucky there was glass between us.”, he growled. “With Lynn and Allen, I don’t know how you turned out so fucking amazing. I can understand why you would want them out of your life for good.” Steve shrugs as he leans back again. “Since I couldn’t hit him and I couldn’t convince him, I did the only other thing I could think of.”

“Well thank God you didn’t become a businessman like your dad wanted or he would have lost a ton of money.” Their eyes meet for the first time since they entered the room as they both let a breathy chuckle. “Steve, when will you realize that you don’t have to protect us and be the hero alone?”

The baby monitor starts to light up and you hastily get up before they can to check on James. 

“I’m sorry I hit you.”

Steve got up from his chair to sit beside Eddie and wrapped his arms around him like you had. 

“It’s okay. I’m sorry I lied to you. I’m so fucking sorry, babe.”

The metalhead sighs using his fingers to lift his chin and bring his lips to his. 

“Even though I’m mad at you, I still love you. I hope you know that.”

The boy nods as he kisses his lips again before trailing them down his cheek to his shoulder. 

##############

Allen glances at the three Munson-Harrington adults, sitting on the other side of the glass before really taking in his son in front of him.

Eddie knew he’d have to go down to the prison to fix what Steve had done but you were surprised when he asked you two to join him. On the drive there, he inhaled one cigarette after the other until you reached over and stole his pack so he wouldn’t overdo it. While you waited, his eyes darted around as he occasionally babbled to block out his internal panic. 

“It’s been a while since I’ve been here. The last time was when I was 10, I think. My mom brought me and I remember them arguing about him being stuck in here. She said she couldn’t handle me alone.”, he shakily laughed. “Actually, it was more ‘what am I supposed to do with him.’”

“Eddie…”  Turning his head, you kiss his lips as you caress his cheek with your thumb. “Everything is going to be ok. We’re right here with you.”

He nodded before gazing at Steve who was glaring into the void as Eddie reached to hold his hand before leaning to whisper in his ear. “Come back to me, sweetheart. I need you.”

“Well shit.”, Allen sarcastically smiled. “To what do I owe the pleasure? Your boyfriend and I already came up with an arrangement so you didn’t need to come down here.”

“Husband. Not boyfriend. Always glad to know you’re just happy to see me, Allen.”

“Allen? Really? You call Wayne daddy now?”

“More or less for the last about 18 years.” They glare at each other before Eddie snickers. “You’re not even going to pretend to be nice to win me over, are you? I have no idea why you or Lynn would ask me to lie for you if you can’t even say something civil like ‘Hey Ed. Nice to see you.’”

You intertwine your fingers with his as your heart breaks. This was probably just a taste of what little Edward Munson experienced and it killed you. 

“Look, we weren’t planning on staying for long. I just wanted to tell you the money Steve has been sending stops now and if you tell anyone that my family gave you that, I swear to God, I will make it my personal mission to make your life a living hell in here. You think things are bad now…”

You’d be lying if you didn’t say his dominance turned you on. There was nothing sexier to you than seeing them both be protective over you and the kids. Usually, it was Steve acting as protector and when he did it with Mr. Osbourne it drove you crazy. Hearing Eddie do it now was not only making you proud of him but excited to jump him later. 

“Fine but in return I want you to go the appeal for me.”

“No, that won’t be happening either and let me tell you why. If you keep calling me, sending letters, or any other bullshit like that, I will come to your appeal but it won’t be on your behalf. I’ll remind the judge that you’re a scam artist and a fucking car thief but I’ll also enlighten them on what a great father you were to me between the black eyes and verbal assaults.”

Eddie leans closer to the glass as his eyes burn into the man on the other side. 

“I am not a kid anymore. You two think you can still bully me but you’re wrong. You both need me way more than I need you.”

With that, he rises from the chair to leave before pausing and gesturing towards his father to wait with his index finger. Abruptly, he grabs Steve’s collar and tugs his lips to his for a passionate kiss. When he finally lets him go, the other man smirks, drunk off Eddie’s taste alone as the metalhead flips off his dad and turns to leave him behind. 

****

About a mile down the road from the prison, Eddie swerved his van into an empty area, hurling off his seatbelt and shoving Steve into the back where you had been sitting. You stayed out of the way, allowing the metalhead to take control. There was a sense of urgency in their kisses, both needing each other in that moment. Eddie needed to convey to him that he could take care of him to and Steve showing him that he could willing give up that urge to control for his husband to take be there for him.  

As they shoved down their pants, you slid your fingers down your own, rubbing your clit as you watched Eddie spit in his hand and stroke his cock before breaching Steve’s entrance. 

“Fuck, yes. I love you so much, baby. Let-Let me take care of you.”

All Steve could do was nod as he wrapped his arms around him and clung to him as Eddie pumped into him harder. His ring lined hand reached out into the air and it took you a moment to realize he was trying to find you. As you leaned into his touch he yanked the back of your neck, bringing your lips to his.

When he dipped his fingers into your jeans and between your legs, he couldn’t help but smile against your lips. 

“You’re so wet, princess. You like watching us together?”

Your own palm held the back of his from the outside of your pants as you rested your forehead on his. 

“I like watching you—mmm—take care of us. I love you, Eddie. I’m so proud of you.”

He heavily sighed as he thrust into you both faster. Hearing Steve loudly grunt, you two watch him as his face scrunches and he releases his spend near the bottom of his tummy. Eddie grins as you push against his hand, guiding his pace until he feels you shutter and cum on his fingers.  As you collapse next to Steve, he leans over the boy’s face as he chases his high. 

“You’re both so—f-fuck—fucking pretty when you cum.”

Watching with half lidded eyes, you softly smile as Steve reaches up to caress his face, listening as he whispers sweetly to him. 

“I love you to, honey. So fucking much. Cum, Eddie, please. We want to see it. I want to feel you fill me up. You…you deserve to…fuck…” He struggled to get the last few words out as the metalhead pumped into him so hard you imagined the van was shaking from the outside. They both grunted at the feeling as the boy came inside of him and like you collapsed on his other side.

The three of you panted as you starred at the ceiling. 

“I am sorry I put you in this position, Munson.”

“I mean… I put you in this position but you know me…I’m open to any and all positions as long as it feels good for everyone.”

They smile when you giggle as Steve shakes his head playfully. “You’re so stupid.”

“You don’t have to keep apologizing. I forgive you, Harrington.” He leans up on his elbow to kiss him before dramatically leaning across him to do the same with you. “Alright, you two recharge and I’ll drive us home.”

@dad-steddie @manda-panda-monium @alligator-person

#############

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@munsonzzgf @munsonmoonshine86

[angelbaby-fics]

hi chloe!! been a while since i stopped by your asks. if this is possible, may i please request a birthday themed fic? you can decide all you want it can be angsty or fluffy!! I requested this since my birthday is gonna be on monday!! thank u and have a great day <3 💕💕💙

Birthday Cake

bWord Count: 900

Pairing: Daddy!Stucky x Little!Reader

A/N: HAPPY BIRTHDAY MONIQUE!!!!!!!!!!!!! 🥳💕🎁🎉🎈 i'm sorry this is a little late but I hope you like it & I hope you had a really amazing birthday!!! 💕

Steve woke up the morning of your birthday, rubbing his eyes sleepily as he turned to look at you, still fast asleep and curled into his side. He always woke up before you and Bucky, loving to get an early breakfast and a run before he started his day. On this special day, however, his run would have to be cut a little short as he still had a few birthday themed errands to run before you woke up.

You stirred slightly as Steve peeled your arm away from his torso, murmuring in your sleep at the loss of his warmth. He paused for a moment, holding his breath until you turned yourself around and repositioned yourself as Bucky’s little spoon. Steve made sure you were tucked back into the comforter before he quietly grabbed some clothes from the closet and stepped out of the room.

He ran until the sun was just barely peeking over the horizon. Knowing you and Bucky would still be asleep for likely a few more hours, Steve came home to take a quick shower before heading out again. He drove downtown to the bakery where he’d placed an order for your custom birthday cake a couple weeks, or so he’d thought. You see, Steve still hadn’t quite gotten the hang of technology, and while he thought he’d placed the order successfully, he’d actually closed the window before the order went through. He didn’t realize this, however, until he walked into the bakery as soon as they opened and asked if they had an order for “Rogers, Steve”.

“I’m sorry sir, we don’t have anything under that name. Is it possible you used a different name?” The employee behind the counter asked. “Uhh maybe Barnes, James? Or Stark, Tony?” Steve replied, wondering if maybe he’d gotten his credit cards confused. “I’m sorry, we don’t have any of those names here, either. Do you have the confirmation email we sent you when you placed the order?” Steve sighed and scratched his head.

“Let me see…” He said, slightly exasperated as he opened his email app and scrolled through hundreds of unread messages to the day he placed the order and beyond, not finding any sort of email from the bakery. “It’s not here.” He replied, finally.

“Okay, then that means that the order didn’t go through so we do not have your cake ready, however your card has not been charged for anything.” “What do I do then?” Steve asked. “Well you could place the order now, but it won’t be ready for at least a week.” Steve sighed. He couldn’t believe his mistake. You hadn’t even woken up yet and already your birthday was ruined! He knew how excited you were fr cake, you always had such a sweet tooth and he was so looking forward to spoiling you with the perfect cake for your special day.

“Is there anything you can do in two hours?” He pleaded with the employee.

“Well, we have some pre-made cakes, they just won’t be decorated yet. But I can send you home with some decorating supplies if you’d like to do it yourself?” The employee replied, genuinely feeling bad for Steve, who contemplated for a moment before deciding that between this, a cake he made himself at home, or no cake at all, this was clearly the best choice.

“Thank you SO so much!” Steve answered, making sure to tip extra as the employee handed him a blank cake in your favorite flavor, and a bag of decorating supplies.

When he got home, he opened the cake box staring at the blank cake for what felt like a century before his attention was drawn to Bucky, who’d quietly and carefully gotten out of your grip as well and decided to help Steve set everything up before you woke up. He’d only been awake for a minute but he could already tell by Steve’s expression that something was wrong.

“What did you do?” Bucky asked with a smirk.

“You know that incredible custom cake I ordered? Well turns out I didn’t.” Bucky laughed, but Steve wasn’t smiling.

“It's not funny! Her birthday is ruined!” “No it isn’t, honey.” Bucky reassured him. “You tried your best and that’s what matters.” “But she won’t have a cake!”

“Sure she will, we’ll just have to decorate it ourselves. And if that’s not enough, we’ll just take her out for ice cream sundaes.”

“When are we goin???” You asked from the kitchen doorway, surprising them both.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY, HONEY!” Bucky cheered, while Steve stood there looking worried. “Hey bug,” He started as you crept over to him & climbed up into his arms. “I’m so sorry, but we didn’t get –” “YOU GOT A CAKE WE CAN DECORATE TOGETHER!!!” You squealed excitedly. “Can we put kitties on it?” “You- yeah, of course!” Steve stuttered for a moment before realizing that he’d really had nothing to worry about, there was no way he could ruin your birthday as long as he was in your life.

“And then after we eat cake for breakfast we can go get ice cream sundaes, right Baba?” You asked, turning to Bucky with a mischievous grin.

“Well now, I don’t know if I said that-” He started, but Steve cut him off.

“Of course baby. We can do whatever you want, it's your birthday!” He said, and the two of them smothered you with kisses as you dissolved into laughter.

Taglist: @babybatdani @cherryynoir @chiyongberry @simpingbutch @xxxqueenlaufeysonxxxxo @mogaruke @flthyhrts @swfpugh @mariefischer @stuckysgirl27 @stevebuckyplzfuckme @leialittleone @midnight-dreams-23 @mischiefsemimanaged @0witchtrials0 @my-river-lilly @erynnnn @axhilles4time 💕💕💕

[buckys-black-dress]

all the signs i don't read

a/n: guys!!! I'M OFFICIALLY DONE WITH MY FIRST YEAR OF UNI! i'm sooo happy to finally be done, i can focus on writing more for you guys this summer :) here's a lil somethin' i whipped up after my last final today. enjoy! xoxo, ali <3

wc: 2.5k words

[bucky barnes x fem!reader]

read part two here!

-

You never thought anything of it.

You never thought anything of it when every time someone would come into the room, Bucky would act like he couldn't stand being touched by you.

It was little things, at first.

You would be in the kitchen in the morning, making coffee for him and you. He would be holding you from behind, whispering sweet nothings in your ear. And then Steve, or someone else, would walk into the room.

And he would shake off your touch, like you were poison.

It never hurt less.

But it's not like you could ever make a scene out of it, or anything. Because nobody even knew you and Bucky had been dating for the past two months.

You had no one to turn to in this situation. No one knew you two were together, and you kind of messed this up for yourself when you agreed to all of this at the beginning of your relationship. Bucky had told you he wasn't really ready for PDA, and you had told him, in a haste, that it was fine.

But after two months of extremely close calls, your patience was wearing thin, and you know it sounds bad. But you've been extremely careful with him, always asking asking him if everything was okay before going further with anything involving physical touch. You always made sure you weren't crossing any boundaries, but it was starting to get frustrating.

You couldn't understand why Bucky could get all touchy-feely with Steve and Natasha when he felt like it, but was practically gagging at your touch.

You were currently cuddled up on his bed, watching a movie. You were on cloud nine, basking in the warmth of your boyfriend's touch. This was one of the rare instances where he would let you get this close. It was nice, and you made sure to always take advantage of it if the situation presented.

You could feel Bucky's gaze fixed upon you as the colors of the TV screen reflected onto your skin. Your eyes dip down to his, and a warm smile graces your face as your eyes meet.

You couldn't ever put into words how happy Bucky made you. You had liked him for so long before he even asked you out, and you were over the moon the day he had brought up wanting to take you out.

It was another night of dinner with just the two of you. Everyone else was on a mission, and since you two were the only ones left, you had decided to make the decision to make food for the both of you.

"James?" Your voice resounded through the empty kitchen and dining room.

"Yeah, honey?" He answered, painting your face red in a blush.

"Do you... just- nevermind." You shake your head, looking back down at your plate.

"Hey, look at me." He says, putting his hand over yours. "I was actually tryin' to figure out how to ask you this..."

Your brows are pulled together, wondering what he was talking about.

"Whatever it is, you can tell me, James." You reassure him. You were grateful that he was such a good friend to you, and that he trusted you enough to open up to you.

"I was wonderin'... would you like to... go out on a date with me sometime?" He asks, holding your gaze.

You're sure you look like a fish out of water right now, your mouth opening and closing in shock. He wanted to ask you out?

"I just... I like spending time with you, I like how you call me James, I like how you don't judge me and how long it's taken me to get comfortable here. I like how kind you are, and how you've always asked the others to be patient with me, so... would you like to go out on a date with me?" He held such hope in his eyes.

"I... I would love to, James." You reply after a moment of silence.

"I'm so happy you said yes." He smiles warmly. "But just... don't mention it to anyone? I don't want Steve or Sam on my case. You know how they can be sometimes." He smiles, and you nod at his request.

"Of course, James. I don't ever want to make you feel uncomfortable, we can go at your pace." Your tone was soft and understanding.

"Thanks, doll. You don't understand how much it means to me." Bucky returns your soft smile, and scoots his seat closer to yours.

His gaze was fixed on you, and while you were playing over the time in your head, Bucky leans in and pecks your lips gently.

"Hm, what're ya thinkin' of, honey?" He questions, sensing your mind was elsewhere.

"I was just thinking of that night when... when you first asked me on a date. How sweet you were." You smile coyly, leaning back in for another kiss.

Your stomach fluttered at Bucky's hum of approval at your actions. He deepened the kiss, motioning for you to fully sit on his lap. Bucky gently placed each of your legs on the sides of his thighs, his hands grasping your hips.

As he stared from your eyes to your lips, back up to your eyes, you felt lightheaded. This was the most intimate the two of you have gotten so far, and you feel the butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

Soon enough, your lips are back on his, moulding onto his like you two were made for each other. Although you two loved watching movies together in each others' rooms, (to avoid prying eyes, of course) you have never been so close to him before like this.

You felt yourself getting high on his affection, and once you had it, you didn't think you could ever go without it.

As Bucky's grip on you tightens, your hands move up to his shoulders, also moving to grasp them. Your hips move with a mind of their own, grinding against his lap.

You didn't think anything of it, but Bucky freezes at the action. His hands stop their gentle strokes along your sides. His lips pause their actions, and you feel him pulling away.

Both physically and emotionally.

"James, is everything alright?" You ask wearily, truly perplexed. Everything was going so well...

"I just... I can't do this, Y/N. I- I'm so sorry... I can't do this with you." He leans back, and limply moves his hands to flop onto the bed at his sides.

"O-Oh," Your voice breaks as you process his words. He didn't want you. This has all been a joke to him. Even in private, your touch made him uncomfortable.

"I... I have to go." You slide off Bucky's lap, gathering your belongings from the end of his bed and rushing out the door.

Without even a glance behind you, the door slams, and Bucky is sat dumbfounded on his bed. Why did I do that? He thinks to himself. Why did I say that to her?

As tears filled your eyes, you just pray that no one will see you. Unfortunately, your room was on another floor, and you think the stairwell would be the best option to avoid people at this point in time.

But of course, as fate has it, Steve is taking the stairs up. You can tell he's probably just returned from his nightly run, as he's sweating through his shirt.

You quickly wipe your eyes, hoping they look too puffy. Your nose was probably red, too, but just sniffle to clear it.

At the sound of your nose, Steve's head shoots up. Your eyes meet, and you plaster on possibly the fakest smile you've ever produced.

"Steve! How was your run?" You ask enthusiastically, trying to make it seem like you were just fine.

"Yeah, it was good. Took a bit of a longer route today. What are you doing here? You never take the stairs." He asks with a raised brow.

"I uh... I was watching a movie, and I had some snacks that were sitting a little heavy on my stomach. I thought a flight of stairs or two could do me some good." You shrug, trying to look as unsuspecting as possible.

"Are you sure you're alright? Your eyes seem a little red." Steve counters. He could feel that something was off.

"Y-Yup, I was watching a sad movie, you know how I get." You give a fake laugh, turning back around. "I have to head back, but good talk, Steve. Enjoy the rest of your night!" You practically yell while walking away from him.

The door of the stairs close behind you in a haste, and you take a moment to take a deep breath. You hated lying, but it's not like you could've said anything to Steve. He had no clue about anything having to do with you and Bucky.

While you locked yourself away to your room for the rest of the night, Bucky was still trying to process the events. How in the matter of a minute, he managed to shift your entire relationship. He was kicking himself, trying to figure out how to fix this. He couldn't seek out advice from Steve like he normally would in situation like this, or ask Natasha. Usually, she was the one to help him when it came to women these days.

But now, he was on his own.

And he was fucked.

So, he had two options.

One, go to Steve. Confess everything; dating you for the past two months, admit he was an idiot and didn't want anyone to know. Realize it would've been fine if everyone knew because everyone loved you. Try to win you back.

Or two, try to get you back on his own. And let's be honest, that option was not looking too good. Clearly, Bucky was clueless in this topic.

So now, he was left to stew.

That night, you drifted into a dreamless sleep with a heavy heart and a tear-soaked pillow.

-

The next few days were... rough, to say the least.

You could barely drag yourself out of bed. You would leave your warm blankets and pillows around eleven each day, which was unheard of for you. Natasha and Wanda would stop you on your way to the kitchen, and try to pry the problem out of you.

Sweetie, this isn't healthy for you.

Honey, just tell us what's wrong. We're here for you.

Y/N, we're worried about you. We love you, but you look horrible.

That last on made you crack a smile, but shook your head and headed in to make yourself a coffee.

For the first time in two months, you were only making coffee for you.

And fuck, was it killing you.

You so badly wanted someone to wrap you up in a hug, rub your back, and tell you it was okay. To tell you your touch was comforting, that they wanted to be close to you.

But of course, fairytales weren't real. You were alone again, and it seemed that it would stay that way for a long time.

No matter what you did, all you could hear in your head was James' words. I'm sorry, I can't do this with you. With you. With you. With you.

And you couldn't help but wonder. What was it about you that was so repulsive to him? You were understanding from the beginning. You just thought he wasn't ready for PDA, that he just wanted his privacy, you understood.

But what you didn't get was how James could have asked you out on a date, how he could've kissed you, for fuck's sake, and yet be so ashamed to be seen with you.

So you allowed yourself to only wallow for five days. You only gave yourself these next five days to feel sorry for yourself, whatever you needed to be pathetic for a few days, but that's it. After that, no more.

You were tired of feeling like you weren't good enough for anyone, like you were a burden. You were an amazing person, and if some people couldn't see that, it wasn't your problem.

You were done.

-

During your five days, you hadn't seen Bucky once. And of course, as your luck would have it, day two brought you your ex-boyfriend.

All in his glory, in the kitchen.

With not one, but two mugs of coffee.

His eyes meet yours, and you see a light in his. But you made sure you were quick to put that out.

"Do you need something, Bucky?" You all but sneer, and his soft smile drops.

"I just... I was about to bring you some coffee. Just how you like it, iced and black." He tries the smile again.

"No thank you, I'd rather make it myself." You turn your stare to the coffee machine, grabbing a capsule and sticking it in the machine before sliding it shut.

Bucky just stands there, dumbfounded. Again.

This seems to be a trend with you.

"Y/N, come on. Let's just sit down and talk about this. Let's go to your room, or maybe mine-" He begins, but you couldn't be bothered with him anymore.

"You know what, Bucky? No. If you want to talk, we can do it out here, for anyone to see. What are you afraid of? Me? Scared that someone will see you with me? God forbid, someone sees that you like me, right? God fucking forbid someone actually is proud-" your voice cracks in an ugly way, and even though you don't want to seem weak in front of him, you continue, "proud to be with me. I gave myself time. Time to understand why on Earth you seemed so... so disgusted to be with me. So ashamed.

And I got over. I am not going to let you make me feel like I'm anything less of a great person, and anyone would be lucky to have me. So screw you, and your secret relationships. I'm done."

By the end of your speech, tears had definitely made it down your cheeks, and your coffee was long forgotten as you turned to move out of the kitchen.

Bucky's eyes had widened at your words, realizing the weight of his mistake. He had made you feel so small, so repulsive and you thought all those things about yourself were true.

But they couldn't have been further from it.

Bucky loved you. He had only had you for two months, but in that short time, he was so hellbent on keeping you a secret. On showing the others that he wasn't weak, that he was still a big, tough guy. That he didn't need a girl to comfort him, or to help him through the nightmares.

But you were the best thing he ever had, and now you were slipping away.

But if Bucky is anything, he's a determined man. And he's determined on getting you back.

-

a/n: aw shit, what's gonna happen?? don't worry, i would never leave y'all hanging like this. part 2 will be coming shortly :) in the meantime, enjoy whatever this is. love, ali <3

read part two here!

[baroquebucky]

comfort

bucky always found comfort in steve, but he’s gone now. who will he turn to for comfort now?

word count: 3.1k

masterlist

a/n: hi bffs !! thank you anon for requesting this <3 just angst and fluff (and endgame steve >:[) !! let me know what you guys think :] (srry for any typos)

“this is bucky!” steve smiled at you happily, you were Steve’s neighbor, always lending him a helping hand when he needed it and giving him emotional support and encouragement that would last him a life time.

“nice to finally meet you! I’ve heard lots ‘bout you” you smiled, sticking your hand out and bucky reluctantly shook it. “why don’t you guys come in for a bit? I’m making some pasta and i put way too much” you grinned, watching as bucky and steve looked at each other, having a whole conversation silently before Steve spoke up again.

“we’d love to” he grinned, pulling bucky inside your apartment with him before you closed the door. Bucky took in your apartment, it was somewhat messy, but it a nice way, a live in sort of way. You had plants all along your windowsill and a basket full on blankets near your couch, books along the shelf with a couple other things and pictures all over the place.

“hope you guys like chicken Alfredo” you smiled, checking the pasta before deciding it was good enough and scooping some out onto three plates

“bucky i have a serious question for you” you spoke as you set the three plates down on the dinner table, smiling at steve as he thanked you.

“oh, okay” bucky mumbled, shifting in his seat and heart racing. You were gonna ask him about his time as the winter soldier weren’t you? You were going to judge him for everything he’d done.

“what animal do you think you can take in a fight?” You spoke seriously, looking at him as you set his plate down.

That’s it? What animal he could fight?

“what?” He asked, confused as to why you were asking him this. Surely this was some test? Maybe it was code for something, if he answered a specific animal then it proved he was a good person.

Steve groaned as you asked the question and you scowled at him, hitting him softly as you passed by him and to the kitchen to get some water for the three on you.

“what animal do you think you could beat if it was just hand to hand combat?” You looked at him, studying his features and quickly taking in the fact that he was in fact the most breathtaking man on earth.

Bucky looked at steve who let out a sigh.

“you should answer now, she asked me that a couple days ago and we talked about it for almost an hour” steve smiled, reminiscing on the way you even made him coffee so he could stay until the end of your discussion.

“uh, i mean, well i guess I’m a super soldier so- i don’t know i don’t wanna fight any of them” he spoke warily, looking at you nervously and watching the way you narrowed your eyes at him before your face softened, breaking into a wide smile and nodding your head proudly.

“James barnes i think you and i are going to get along just fine” you smiled, taking in the way his eyes lit up just a tad at your words.

Steve smiled at the way bucky sat a little straighter, loosening up a bit and warming up to you little by little. He wanted him to have someone to turn to, he wanted him to have you like steve did, someone he knew he could always rely on.

After the whole Blip went down and everything was back to normal bucky found himself lost at times, wandering the streets in seek of comfort. He was left alone in the world with nothing left from his old life.

Steve had only been gone for a couple of days and he already felt horrible. He had no one to turn to, no one to lean on. He was alone.

He tried finding solace in sleep, wishing that his mind would whisk him away to be happy in his dreams. His attempts were fruitless, all he managed to do was toss and turn, his mind racing and never relaxing enough to fully sleep.

The small moments he did manage to sleep he awake in a cold sweat, nightmares plaguing his mind, his memories rushing to him alongside the pain and thoughts that has recently set in after steve left.

Bucky sat on couch of his apartment, it was silent as the sounds of the city were muffled through the walls, rain gently hitting his windows. He so badly wanted to just break down and cry, to have someone tell him everything would be okay, to comfort him and remind him that he wasn’t alone even with steve gone.

Bucky scrolled through his contacts, vision blurred with tears as he searched helplessly for someone he could go to. As he scrolled through his contacts he found you, when had he put it there?

He clicked on your name and sure enough, there was a picture of you smiling brightly with steve, a note written under your contact information.

buck, y/n helped me get through everything, theyre sweet and caring and kind, please talk to them if you ever need anyone i promise you they can help - steve

Bucky let out a shaky breath as he read the note steve had left. When did he even get ahold of his phone? Buckys mind was racing, he wiped his tears and locked his phone. He would be fine, he didn’t need anyone to help him.

As the day progressed bucky felt the pain in his chest growing with each breath, tears threatening to spill out any moment. He was frustrated that the feelings wouldn’t just go away, it was persistent and nagging at him every minute of the day as he tried to push it away.

Maybe if i take a walk it’ll clear my mind, bucky reasoned, throwing on a jacket and heading out, there was only a very light drizzle as he walked aimlessly, trying everything to get his mind off the emptiness he felt in his heart.

Was he not good enough for him to stay? Was everything bucky had done, too much for steve? Why would he leave him so abruptly? After everything he just left him with no hesitation.

Bucky tried to shake away the thoughts but they grew louder and louder, tears stinging at his eyes and he decided he’d had enough.

Bucky stopped in his tracks, taking note of where he was and recalling the path he and steve had taken the first time they visited you, he let his mind wander, knowing there was nothing he could do to stop it.

By the time he reached your apartment he wanted to turn around and leave. Did you even live here still? We’re you even home? It wasn’t a good idea, he should deal with it by himself.

Bucky was about to turn to leave when you opened the door, dressed up with bright red lipstick on. Oh wow you were stunning, bucky thought as he turned around to face you.

“bucky?” You asked, looking at the man before smiling widely, “bucky! oh wow hi!” You grinned, not hesitating to pull him in for a hug and squeezing him tightly. As you pulled away you noticed his red eyes and the frown on his face. Your smile quickly disappeared when you saw the way he tried to hide the tear stains, looking down at his shoes.

“oh james what’s wrong?” You spoke softly, grabbing his wrist gently and pulling him into your apartment, he looked up quickly. It was still the same, it was just as homey as he remembered it.

You led him to the couch, quickly bringing over the basket of blankets and letting him choose whichever one he wanted, smiling as he picked the fuzziest of them all.

“good choice” you softly spoke, grabbing a blanket for yourself and setting it on the couch next to him.

“do you want anything to drink, i have coffee, hot chocolate, water and maybe some apple juice” you smile fondly at the man on your couch and he thought for a second before replying.

“can- do you think i can have a hot chocolate” he spoke softly, “please” the tone of his voice made your heart clench and you wanted to just hold him, but you knew he didn’t need that just yet, so you just nodded and made his hot chocolate as fast as you could, adding whipped cream and marshmallows and placing it on the table in front of him.

“added extra whipped cream for you” you smiled, slipping your heels off and grabbing your phone, “I’m gonna get changed and I’ll be back out in a second, make yourself at home buck” your smile was warm and sincere and he already found the emptiness fading.

“i have to cancel today I’m really sorry” bucky heard, his super hearing picking up on the conversation you were having. “something came up” your voice was calm. “no i cant just ignore it” your tone shifted, leaning towards annoyance as you continued.

“excuse me for caring about someone other than myself!” You spoke dryly, changing out of your dress and into some sweats and an oversized t shirt. “you know what i think, i think it would be better if you deleted my number and forgot about me actually! i think that’d be great” your voice was cold as you hung up, letting out a sigh before smiling slightly, thank god you didn’t have go through with that date.

As you walked out you noticed bucky getting up, heading towards the door.

“leaving so soon? you barely touched your hot chocolate” you frowned, your voice making bucky turn to look at you, his words died on his tongue when he noticed you were changed.

“you have a date” was all he said and you smiled, shaking your head and pulling him back to the couch with you.

“had” you corrected him, “cancelled on ‘em, didn’t really wanna go” you scrunched your face up as you spoke, sipping some of your hot chocolate before looking at bucky softly.

“got better things to do” you stated, watching the way he slowly warmed up to you, moving his body to face you.

“like what?” He whispered, looking down at the blanket in his lap as he let it lightly.

“like make my bestest friend in the whole world feel better” you answered, not missing a beat as you spoke, looking at him.

Bucky swore his heart was going to beat out of his chest. Never in a million years did he think someone he met a total of three times not so long ago could bring him so much warmth, so much comfort. He didn’t bother hiding the blush on his face, he knew you wouldn’t tease him about it, you were more focused on making him feel better.

“what’s eating at you buck?” You prodded him gently, watching his body language closely for any signs of discomfort. He looked at you before focusing on his hot chocolate, picking it up and taking a small sip.

“good hot chocolate” he mumbled, taking another sip and you smiled, nodding your head silently. Bucky set the mug down again, fiddling with his fingers in his lap. “it’s just-” he began, cutting himself off before he could continue.

“he didn’t say goodbye to you, did he?” His eyes were whirlpools of emotions. You gave him a sad smile, shaking your head.

“no, not really” you spoke, “he kind of hinted at what he was gonna do y’know? didn’t wanna say it out loud so we kind of, i guess just didn’t wanna say it” you mumbled, “made it too real” you smiled at him again, not wanting to make his mood any worse.

“don’t you- how are you so okay with it? I mean it’s just- don’t you feel like if you did more he wouldn’t have left?” Bucky asked, desperation in his eyes.

Everything clicked in your mind instantly. Your stomach fell and your heart broke in your chest, Bucky’s sad eyes and slumped shoulders told you everything you had to know. The way he couldn’t even keep eye contact with you for longer than three seconds, how he fumbled with something when he spoke. You wiped the frown of your face before giving him a reassuring smile, scooting closer to him.

“sometimes i do” you nodded, picking at some fuzz on your blanket, “i do find myself wondering if i had given him different advice throughout the time i knew him if he would’ve made a different choice” you spoke softly, bucky looked at you, watching the way your lips poured slightly.

“I’ll think ‘maybe if i had asked him to stay for dinner one more time’ or if i made him more hot chocolate” you chuckled softly, bucky smiled at your words, sadness filling his chest as he realized how hurt you must be.

“you shouldn’t blame yourself y/n, you did your best” he whispered, clearing his throat before continuing, “i mean you brought him so much comfort and helped him through so much, in the end it was his choice and that’s not on you” he finished, hands shaking slightly. Bucky was silent as you nodded.

“listen to yourself buck” you smiled, placing a hand on his, “it’s not your fault, you did your best, you meant so much to him and you always will” you assured him, squeezing his hand in yours. Bucky was quiet as you gave him soft smiles.

“I didn’t mean me-” he began but you shook your head.

“you were his best friend for his whole life, he talked about you all the time, spent years looking for you to get you back” bucky let out a shaky breath. “You were good enough, you are good enough james.”

The firmness in your voice made bucky look up, your eyes were set and serious. Bucky tried to find any trace of lies, but your words were sincere and settled in his bones like a warm fireplace.

“it’s just- i wish-” his voice cracked and his bottom lip quivered, tears stinging his eyes. He was embarrassed, moving to wipe his tear quickly.

You beat him to it, your hand caressing his cheek and softly wiping away at the tears. You moved you hand to the back of his neck and softly pulled him into you, shaking your arms around him as best you could.

Bucky cried into your shoulder, mumbling incoherent sentences as sobs racked his body. You help him tightly, rubbing his back soothingly and whispering to him it would be okay.

“you’re okay, i got you” you whispered, “I’m here let it out sweets, it’s okay.”

Bucky knew he should feel embarrassed for crying like this, in front of you, someone he barely knew. Your words were too comforting to let him and your presence far too warm to even let him consider leaving you at this moment in time.

You didn’t mind one bit that bucky was crying into your favorite t shirt, you held him tighter, giving him all the time he needed to calm down.

By the time Bucky’s cries had softened to soft hiccups he pulled away from you, eyes red and cheeks tear stained. His nose was pink and he sniffled softly, using the back of his hands to run his eyes.

You silently handed him some tissues, softly letting him know where the bathroom is. He smiled at you softly, getting up from the couch and heading to your restroom. You sat in silence as you waited for bucky to come back, sighing softly to yourself. You closed your eyes for a second, blinking away a couple tears and getting snacks from your pantry, putting on your comfort show and switching to the pilot episode.

Bucky washed his face with cold water, smiling at the fact that your bathroom smelled like eucalyptus. His dried his face and washed his hands, letting out a shaky sigh before looking at himself in the mirror, frowning at how broken he looked. He tore his gaze away and turned off the lights, walking out and seeing you sitting on the couch cross legged.

You smiled up at bucky, patting the seat next to you and moving so he could sit. The couch dipped a little as he sat down, grabbing the blanket and bundling it in his lap.

“when I’m upset i watch this show, it always cheers me up” you spoke to him gently, “that is if you aren’t leaving, i don’t wanna hold you hostage or anything” you chuckled and bucky smiled at you, laughing softly.

“no i- do you think i can stay a bit longer?” He asked and you nodded, linking your arms together and pulling each other closer.

“you can stay for however long you want” bucky felt his heart grow in his chest, how could you be so warm and welcoming to him? He didn’t question it for long though, your dazzling smile and sparkling eyes cleared his mind.

“ready?” You smiled and he nodded, watching as you hurried to press play, adjusting the volume and grinning as the show began.

Bucky couldn’t help but steal glances at you, smiling at how you mouthed the lines, offering him snacks if he hadn’t touched them in a while, constantly making sure he was okay.

Relaxation. He finally felt relaxed, his jaw was unclenched and his brows were furrowed, he had a small smile on his face. His muscles were relaxed as the showed played on your tv, your body heat radiating onto Buckys side.

You looked up to comment on something in the show but quickly stopped when you realized bucky had fallen asleep. His eyes were closed and he just looked so soft.

You smiled as you looked at him, moving some pillows quietly so you wouldn’t wake him. You helped him lay down and set the blanket on top of him, telling him to go back to sleep when he stirred slightly. For the first time since steve had left Buckys slept peacefully. He found comfort and assurance with you.

Steve was always looking out for bucky, always saying that he had to pay him back for all those fights bucky saved him from in the 40’s. Steve helped him get out of hydra, helped him get his mind back.

Bucky smiled at you as you pet alpine in your lap, dozing off as you struggled to stay awake before finally giving into sleep. He picked you up swiftly, tucking you into bed like you had done with him nearly a year ago. He kissed your forehead gently before sliding into bed next to you, falling asleep quickly with you by his side.

Now even after he was gone, he was helping him heal. And for that, he was forever grateful.

[nastybuckybarnes]

Hoist the Colours  -  2/3

Pairing: Pirate!Bucky X SeaGoddess!Reader

Summary: An encounter with the man you used to love lands you and your new crew in peril, stuck on a ship with the people responsible for binding you. And what they have planned for you is far worse than what you’d first imagined.

Warnings: Language, Angst, Fluff, Kinda slow burn

Word Count: 4.3K

A/n: Second part of this mini series! inspired by Pirates of the Caribbean: At World’s End 

~*~

“Alright lads, you know the drill. I expect you back on the ship by dusk tomorrow.” The men of the king are more than eager to head to the longboats, wanting nothing more than to satiate their hunger for ale and whores.

The door to the quarters that you and Wanda share gets slowly pushed open, and Tony smiles brightly at you.

“Are you going to be coming ashore with us?” He asks, eyes hopeful. You don’t have it in you to say no, and you also can’t fight the nagging feeling that there’s something waiting for you here.

“Yes, we will. We’re ready now,” You say, smiling at him. He leads you out to the longboat and helps you in. There are a few other cremates already in the boat, waiting to be lowered to the shallow waters below.

You and Wanda sit beside each other, across from the men as they row you to shore.

Wanda looks at you, her eyes asking a question. You incline your head the slightest and she leans forward.

“You’re looking for something,” she whispers. You sigh and shrug weakly. “Something is coming to find me. And I must meet it.” She nods thoughtfully, eyes flashing from you to the docks up ahead.

As soon as the longboat is tied off, men on the shore are hurrying over to you and Wanda to help you both.

You accept the outstretched hand and climb up onto the dock, turning and waiting for Wanda to join you. As she comes up, a man’s hand strays too far south, and she hisses.

You grab him by the wrist, thunder clapping above you as you glare at him.

“You lay another finger on a woman without permission, and you’ll lose your entire hand. That is a promise.” He opens his mouth to make some sort of snarky remark but snaps it closed when he sees the tip of his fingers starting to turn black with the mark of death. He nods quickly and you drop his hand, watching with a stone-cold look on your face as his fingers return to normal.

The group of men who were so willing to help you quickly disperse as they realize that they aren’t going to get what they want from you or from Wanda.

“You ladies feel free to roam. I have no doubt that you can take care of yourselves. If you want to rejoin us, we’ll be leaving at dusk tomorrow.” You’re surprised at the offer, having thought that you and Wanda would have been forced to rejoin them.

“Thank you, Tony. For all you’ve done and for your kindness.” He smiles warmly at you and nods. “It’s nowhere near what you deserve, but it’s the best I could manage.” He offers you a small bow then heads off to drink himself into a coma for the night.

“Well. Shall we explore all that Tortuga has to offer?” You ask, extending your arm to Wanda. She grins and takes your outstretched arm. “We shall.”

~*~

Bucky sits in the pub, eyes roaming around the place for the millionth time as he tries to pinpoint your face amongst those of the strangers in the crowd.

A man plops down beside him, a cup of ale held loosely in his fist and a poisonous grin on his face.

“Barnes, good to see you again.” Bucky hardly glances at him. “Rumlow,” he says with a nod.

“What are the odds of me seeing you here, huh?” Bucky shrugs, sighing heavily. “What is it you want, Rumlow?” “Where’s your captain? I’ve got a proposition for you.”

“Over by the bar chattin’ up a dame. Go interrupt him, I dare ya.” Rumlow purses his lips and chuckles lightly. “A man of business, as usual.” Rumlow gets up from the table and heads over to the bar, giving the woman talking to Steve a smile before stepping between them, far too close for Steve’s comfort.

Bucky watches them, watches as Rumlow speaks and as Steve’s eyes widen. The eyes in question are suddenly on him, a chin raised up towards the ceiling, beckoning the dark-haired man to join the conversation.

Bucky gets up with a groan and heads over to the bar. Crossing his arms over his chest and looking at the two other men expectantly.

“There’s a ship of the King’s men here tonight, they leave tomorrow at dusk,” Steve starts, waiting for his friend to catch on. When he simply stares back at the blond, Steve sighs.

“We split the bounty down the middle if we help take the ship. Think about it, Buck. They’ve always got gold on those ships.” He shakes his head. Right as he’s about to open his mouth he hears a familiar note being played on the piano. It’s being played softly, so softly he has to strain to hear it, but he hears it no less.

Whipping around, his eyes search for the piano, and, more importantly, the person playing it.

“Buck?” Steve asks, concern lacing his voice. Bucky ignores him, pushing his way through the pub until he gets to the back corner.

His breath catches in his throat, heart racing in his chest as he sees the woman seated at the piano, playing the song that lulls him to sleep every night. His fingers instinctively find the locket around his neck, the one that plays that very same song, and he finds himself blinking back tears.

You can feel him behind you before he says anything, but when he whispers your name you can’t help the shiver that rolls down your spine. Your fingers continue playing but your posture stiffens slightly, the only indication that you heard him.

“Where have you been? We’ve been searching for you for so long.” This has your fingers freezing, and you slowly stand up.

You turn to him and he’s beyond confused and concerned at the betrayal and sadness in your eyes. Without speaking a word, you brush past him, ready to walk straight out of the pub and meet up with Wanda.

He grabs your wrist, urging you to stop, and you do, only to yank your arm out of his grip as if he scalded you. “Don’t you dare touch me,” you hiss, your eyes filled with rage.

His brows pull together in confusion, having absolutely no idea why you’re treating him this way. You turn away from him again and he runs after you, fighting the urge to grab you again.

“(Y/n) wait! Stop!” As soon as you’re out of the pub you feel better, the cool air doing wonders to clear your head.

“Where are you going?” You continue walking, grinding your teeth together as he follows you. His fingers just barely graze your shoulder and you whip around to face him, thunder crackling above you.

Clouds roll in, your emotions getting the better of you as a storm forms quickly overhead.

“You have no right to touch me. I should kill you for even looking at me after what you did!” He looks genuinely confused. “What I did? (Y/n) what are you talking about?” You chuckle once without humour, your eyes stinging with unshed tears.

“Don’t play dumb, James. It doesn’t suit you.” With that you turn and walk away just as the rain starts to fall around you, droplets splattering on your face as tears claw their way down your cheeks.

He stands there in the pouring rain, staring dumbfounded at your retreating figure while wondering what the Hell happened that you’re blaming him for.

“Buck? You okay?” He doesn’t look away from where you last were, his eyes having lost you in the downpour.

“She... I...” He looks over at his friend, eyes rimmed red. “What happened?” Rumlow asks, squinting against the harsh rainfall.

“I don’t know. She just... she hates me. I don’t even know what I did.” Steve pats the man on the shoulder. “After we lost you she went ballistic. Maybe she heard a rumour of something untrue and believes it? I’m sure she’ll come around.” Bucky shakes his head. The way you stared at him, utter betrayal in your eyes... he knows you far too well to believe that you’ll simply change your mind.

“Enough of that. Do we have a deal, Rogers?” Bucky looks over at the two men, confused about whatever deal is going down.

“The King’s ship is here. And they never travel without gold. The colours on this one lead me to believe that there’s an important man travelling for his Majesty. And you know what that means,” Rumlow explains, grinning at the metal-armed sailor. “Leverage,” he murmurs, mind still on you while he ponders the deal.

“The amount of Gold on a king’s ship, even if we split it halfway, would set us over for months,” Steve whispers. Bucky sighs then nods.

“Alright fine. Now which ship are you wanting?”

~*~

“Ladies! It’s good to see you. I’ll be honest, I was unsure if you’d be joining us again. But I’m glad you did.” You smile warmly at Tony then look back out across the open water, eyes flittering towards Tortuga in the distance.

“What did you expect to happen if not that?” Wanda asks softly, stepping beside you and keeping her eyes focused on the horizon.

“I thought he would be surprised to see me. And he was. But he acted as if he didn’t know it was he who caused this in the first place,” you whisper. She frowns but says nothing more, giving you the silence to think over your interaction with the man you used to love.

“Captain! We.. we’ve got some trouble it looks like,” Peter says hurriedly. Tony steps away from where he was listening to your conversation and glances to where the young man is pointing. Sure enough, coming up on the stern are two ships, each with dark flags waving.

Clouds roll in overhead quickly and Wanda’s eyes glow red.

“Pirates,” she whispers. The wind comes in strong, sending a few crew-mates stumbling as they run across the deck.

“They aim to plunder, they want nothing to do with us, unless they deem us of value,” you inform, gathering your skirts in your hands and marching over to Tony.

“We have no chance of outrunning them. And outgunning them... not even a hope.” He looks at you then up to the skies. “Can you not conjure something?” You shake your head. “Nothing more than a storm. But what aids us will aid them. We’ve lost.” He sighs heavily then nods, looking over at his men.

“What will they do?” Your eyes travel to the two pirate ships that are quickly gaining, trying to focus on the flags and determine which ships they are.

You incline your head slightly to the right and a gust of wind comes in, pushing their flags to the side. With wide eyes, you stumble back, the sight of the flags making your heart roar in your ears.

“What is it?”

You shake your head, the wind picking up as the rain starts to fall harder.

“We’ve got no chance,” you whisper, chest rising and falling rapidly as the ships grow nearer.

Wanda is by your side in an instant. “It’s them, isn’t it?” She asks, staring at the ships. You nod, grinding your teeth together.

“There is nothing we can do now,” she says firmly, taking hold of your arm to grab your attention. “Do not let them think they’ve won. They have not.” You take a few deep breaths, reigning in your emotions and clearing the rain. The skies stay grey, but the winds die down and the rain ceases.

“We’re going to be boarded, men. And when that happens we are to remain calm. They are pirates. They will take our gold, they may take our lives, but they will not ever take our pride! They will not strip us of the very thing that makes us men! We are strong and we stand for the King!” The men on the ship all shout their agreements, readying themselves for whatever fate awaits with the coming of the pirates.

Quickly, far quicker than you would’ve expected, you’re being flanked on either side by massive ships. One of them far too familiar. A home long forgotten.

You can see the pirates on either side, shouting profanities and grinning wickedly.

“Prepare to be boarded!” A man shouts at you. You look around at the men surrounding you and take a step closer to the back, burying yourself in the crowd as much as you can.

Pirates swing onto the ship, swords and pistols drawn and prepared for a fight. When they receive none they seem far too happy.

“Imagine my surprise when I see a ship of the King floating idly in the waters of Tortuga. Seemed too good an opportunity to be missed, right boys?” That voice... it sends a shudder ripping down your spine and darkness taints the sky.

You look up, eyes burning with anger, and you stare directly at the man who’s speaking. His murky eyes meet yours and he smiles a sickly grin, stepping down onto the main deck and pushing his way through the crowd.

“Ah, but you are not all men of the King, are you? No, some of you are much more valuable.” He stops when he’s in front of you, eyes raking over your figure.

“Yes. Some of you are far more valuable than mere men of the King.” He raises his fingers up to stroke your cheek and a clap of thunder shatters the silence. You glare at him in warning but he only chuckles, grubby fingers tracing dirty paths down your cheek.

“What are you going to do, witch?” He asks softly, stepping even closer to you. You say nothing, glaring up into his eyes with pure hate. He chuckles and right as he leans down to say something more you spit in his face. He flinches back then glares at you. He raises his hand to strike you but before it can come down, long fingers are wrapped around his wrist.

“No harm is to come to her.” You look over at the man, clenching your jaw shut so tightly you fear you may break it.

“Fine,” Rumlow spits, yanking his hand free from the blond man’s grip. “But we’re going to be changing course,” he shouts, pushing through the crowd to the poop deck.

“Tow the ship! And bring the prisoners aboard and shove ‘em in the brig. We set sail for Nassau.” Rumlow’s men are more than happy to start grabbing at people and chaining their wrists, stopping them from fighting and forcing them towards the edge of the ship where a plank is being laid down.

As men start crossing the gangplank to Rumlow’s ship, the man himself walks over to you and Wanda. Two men come behind him, each with thin metal cuffs in their hands.

“Hope you don’t mind, darling. Just a little precaution. Can’t have you using what little you have left to disturb my ocean.” The way he says it, with such smugness and certainty makes you want to pull his tongue right out of his mouth.

The cuffs are snapped into place and you nearly collapse. The remainder of your powers are stripped from you entirely, leaving you a mere mortal. Wanda inhales sharply at the sensation and you know she’s feeling just as terrible as you.

As the two of you are being pushed towards the plank, a hand lands on your shoulder.

“The witch will have my quarters. She has no place with the men of the king.” You wrench your shoulder out of his grasp and stumble away from him.

Rumlow watches in amusement as Bucky pleads with you with his eyes.

“As generous as an offer that is, I’d rather remain with the only crew who hasn’t betrayed or abandoned me,” you whisper harshly, glaring daggers at them. You cross the plank and are promptly shoved below decks, Wanda close behind.

You’re then locked in the brig with the rest of the crew, chest heaving at both the emotional strain and the physical one of having your powers drained.

Tony looks at you in complete and utter confusion, trying to piece together what he can, but he has little success.

You stay absolutely silent, back pressed against the damp wood of the ship.

Trapped and bound yet again by the hands of the same men.

~*~

“Once they reach Nassau they will look for the other ship of the King, try and find any leverage that they can. They are gathering far too many hostages, and we will be killed soon,” you whisper to Tony, a frown on your face as you peer through a crack in the wood. The ocean is rough, not by your doing, but you cannot help but feel as though the gods are on your side.

“Those men know you. Who are they?” Your bottom lip trembles and you take a few deep breaths. “One of the ships... used to be my home. The other is the reason why I am bound. Why I cannot access my powers fully. And there is only one man alive who knows how to strip me of my powers.”

He’s quiet for a very long moment.

“Why not just kill you? Why bind you?” He asks. You shrug, having asked yourself the same question. Because this, this fate that is now yours, is one worse than death.

“They mean to use you as a weapon,” Wanda says softly, her eyes closed as she tries to get used to not having her powers.

You and Tony both look over at her, waiting for her to continue.

She opens her eyes and looks between the two of you for a moment.

“By keeping you alive, your power remains on this earth. If they were to kill you, then your power would be lost, and that power is of great use to them. I anticipate that it will only be a matter of hours before you’re brought to the captain’s cabin and your purpose is discussed.”

Wanda is correct.

It’s only after the sun has set and night has taken hold that anyone descends the stairs.

“Cap’n wants you in his cabin, Witch,” a man sneers, yanking the door open and grabbing you by the wrists.

He’s awfully rough with you, but you pay it little to no mind, trying instead to focus on figuring out Rumlow’s game plan.

You’re forced into his cabin, nearly tripping over yourself in the process, but you regain your footing just in time and your eyes find those of your captor.

“I thought you would put up more of a fight if I’m honest,” he says, arms crossed over his chest as he looks you up and down.

You say nothing, mouth shut tightly and eyes focused on a scratch in the wall.

“Nothing to say? Really? I thought you would have some choice words considering your current predicament. Or are those words reserved for someone else?” A muscle in your jaw ticks and he grins, realizing he struck a nerve.

“It was he who told me how to bind you, how to strip you of your powers. He was there when we did it too. And yet he acts so innocent.” He stands up and walks over to you, circling you slowly, like a vulture.

“How does that make you feel? Does that... anger you? Does it make you hungry for revenge?” He stops when he’s in front of you, two fingers brushing gently across your jaw.

“Your wrath is something I’ve only ever dreamed of harnessing. And I can bring it back. You only need swear alliance to me, and you’ll be free from your bonds. You need only tie yourself to me, and your power will return.”

You look at him, face stoic and cold.

“I will not trade one set of bonds for another. Find someone else to do your bidding.” With that you turn on your heel, only to be yanked back to his chest.

“You will watch your tongue, woman, or I will cut it out. Do you understand?” You say nothing, but for the first time in a long time, you feel truly helpless.

“I am your captain now, and you will listen to me. Unless you would like to join all those that you have sent to the depths. And this time, you won’t have your powers to save you.”

You clench your jaw and tug out of his grip, glaring at him for a moment longer before turning and leaving his cabin.

“You will do my bidding one way or another, Wench! It is only a matter of time before you realize it!”

You’re ushered back below decks and shoved into a separate cell than before, successfully isolating you from the rest of the crew.

“That was brief,” Tony says cautiously, eyes on the retreating crew-mate before returning to your figure.

You say nothing, only close your eyes and pray for something as sweet as death to take you.

~*~

It’s hours later that you’re woken from your sleep, metal clanking together and hushed voices speaking quickly.

“Hurry now, before they wake up.” You push yourself into a seated position, watching in curious confusion as Steve and Bucky hold the cell door open, helping the prisoners out and up the stairs.

Only after they have the permission of Tony do they leave, and even then, the Captain and Wanda stay behind, each of them looking at you.

Upon realizing where you are, Bucky yanks your cell door open, holding his hand out to you.

“We must hasten, it won’t be long before they realize what we’ve done.” You shake your head, crossing your arms over your chest. Tony and Wanda leave their cell, lingering on the stairs and watching as you refuse help.

“Why would I exchange one traitorous pirate for another?” You ask rhetorically, your words like a slap across Bucky’s face.

“Buck, we need to leave. We don’t have time for this,” Steve whispers, gently pushing Wanda and Tony up the stairs.

You stare at the brunet in front of you, daring him to make a move.

When he doesn’t, you take matters into your own hands.

“What are you waiting for? Leave. It’s what you’re good at.” He doesn’t have time to argue, but your words cut him deep.

Against his better judgement, he turns and runs up the stairs, hating himself for abandoning you, but knowing that there are far more lives at stake.

The ship branches away from Rumlow's, heading West to escape him.

“We’ll drop you off at the nearest trade stop, but that is all we can do,” Steve says, looking across the table to where Wanda and Tony sit, each eyeing the goblets of rum in front of them.

“It’s you, isn’t it?” Tony asks, looking at Bucky. The pirate furrows his brows in confusion.

“You’re the one who got her trapped.” He’s beyond confused now.

“What the hell are you talking about?” He demands, metal hand clenching into a fist.

“Don’t act so innocent. You’re the only person alive with the knowledge of how to bind her to her human form, how to cut her off from the sea. And you act as though you’ve done nothing.” Wanda’s eyes glow red with her anger but Bucky is still confused.

“I-I never told anyone... She trusted me and I kept it to myself. Why...” He trails off, horror colouring his features.

“Steve, when Rumlow found me after I fell overboard, what did he say happened?” Steve ponders this for a moment then shakes his head.

“Just that they found you in the water. Nothing else.” The red slowly fades from Wanda’s eyes as she realizes what must’ve happened.

“Rumlow’s the one who wanted power all along. And he’s stopped at nothing to get it. He means to use her as a weapon to control and conquer the seas. He’s the one who bound her. He must’ve used your knowledge to bind her without you knowing.” The three men in the room are confused by her suggestion.

“Consider it. He has no recollection of the time spent away from the ship, and he is also the only one with the knowledge.” She rises slowly to her feet, red glowing from her fingertips.

“If you let me, I could bring forth the memories, show you what your mind is trying to forget.” He looks at her hesitantly for a moment.

“(Y/n) is a dear friend of mine. If what you are saying is the truth then I promise I will not harm you.” His gaze travels from her to Steve then back to her, a new determination in them. He nods once and then her fingers are hovering right by his temple, a red hue flowing from them.

His eyes slowly take on the same colour before rolling back into his head, his hidden memories finally being brought to the surface, the truth being revealed.

It takes a few minutes, but he finally reopens his eyes, anguish written on his face.

“She... Steve, we must free her.” Steve sighs, not knowing what to say.

“Buck, how are we supposed to do that? We need to free the crew before we do anything. We cannot risk all of their lives.”

“Rumlow’s knowledge may be enough to bind her powers to his ship, his command. The only way to keep the seas safe is to release her, and soon,” Wanda pipes in.

“My crew can wait. And any man who wishes to leave may take a longboat and find their own way.” The Pirates look at the King’s man for a moment before nodding.

“Very well,” Steve says, turning back to his friend. “How do we free her from her bonds?”

“The same way they trapped her in the first place. And to do that we must go to the island where she was born.”

[siempre-bucky]

I.I.G.Y.M.H.W.Y.T.I.A.M.M.T.H.M.I.T.W?

COWBOY!BUCKY X READER

♡if I gave you my hand would you take it and make me the happiest man in the world?

Summary: Nat and Wanda take the reader post break up to The Stark Ranch, a beautiful little place in the lush green countryside. God she hated it, she didn't want to be here only wanted him back. With one dip of a black cowboy hat and a deep-voiced greeting, the readers brooding would have to wait.

Part 1 of 3

Warnings: light mentions of past abuse,

WC: 3.8k

A/N: there was a tiktok and it was just cowboy Sebastian Stan and this fucking song!! Here's a thing I can't stop thinking about! I edited this the best I could.

In the long, rich history of bad ideas, this had to be the worst idea anyone has ever had. Here she was, squished in between her best friends in the back of an Uber. An old country song from the 60s played on the radio as the two redheads gushed about the small town they were driving through. The most popular restaurant back in Brooklyn probably had more people inside it than this little country town.

"Are you done brooding?" Wanda complains, her Sokovian accent purely intensified the distaste in her tone.

"All I want is John, back," Y/N mutters bitterly, her jaw clenched, sinking lower into the seat. Both women roll their eyes at her comment.

"You haven't stopped mentioning Walker since we got off the plane. It's been 2 months Y/N," Natasha reminds her, checking her watch that was peaking from her black leather jacket. "Don't forget this is why we're here! A getaway is just what you need."

Has it already been 2 months? It only felt like 2 weeks since he left. His last words still sent a chill down her spine "Did you really expect me not to cheat, Y/N? It's New York, get used to it, babe." Y/N shakes her head, trying to get that man's callous words out of her head. She felt like she was already at the acceptance of the grieving process. She clearly wasn't there.

Natasha suddenly gasps, the Stark Ranch coming into view with its black iron gates, its name the biggest thing on it. Y/N looks in Nat's direction, the 4 story red and yellow inn sat in the middle of a long dirt road and was nuzzled in with the saturated green grass and big trees. Y/N thought it was pretty but she would never admit that to her friends.

"Ladies you have a good time out here! I reckon you'll find our little town quite charmin'!" The older man tells them happily as his car comes to a stop in front of the inn. The girls give him their thanks and get out to take a look at the place.

Nat's hand shielded her eyes from the sun as she looked up the place, a confident smile on her face since she picked out this place in the middle of nowhere. Wanda stood in the middle with her hands in her pockets and a relaxed smile. As for Y/N? she might as well have a dark cloud hanging over her. It smelled like grass and horses, her black ankle boots were covered in dust, and worst of all...Natasha blocked John's number. "Relaxation awaits girls!" Nat cheers as she leads her small pack into the front doors of the inn.

The inside was just a cute as the outside, country-style couches placed in the center with a mahogany coffee table littered in doilies. Guests laughed and chatted behind the french doors in the restaurant beside them. "Welcome to Stark Inn!" The front desk lady greets them, her strawberry blonde hair tied in a bun and a glossy smile on her features.

"You go check-in, I'm staying here," Y/N sighs, plopping down onto one of the floral couches, taking out her phone from her back pocket. Nat and Wanda rolled their eyes, pushing their luggage next to their friend before walking over to check-in.

She checked her phone 5 times, 5 different bell-sounding notifications from 5 different apps. Nothing from her former love, of course, not because he's blocked. The next bell sound didn't come from her phone but the front doors of the inn. The ding was followed by two men laughing loudly, one clapping the other on the back. The Y/H/C girl looks up at the source of the ruckus.

One was blonde, wearing a thin blue flannel shirt and dark jeans. He was cute, had a nice ass, and blue eyes a lady could swim in. The other man was a different story, however. A blush crept up her cheeks as she looked at him. His shoulder-length hair was tied up in a low bun, face nearly hidden by his black velvet cowboy hat. Fuck that man looked good in red flannel.

The said man looked down at her. Oh shit, she'd been caught staring at the two cowboys. Before she could look away the one in red smirked at her and dipped his hat "ma'am," he speaks in greeting, his voice was low and raspy, sending butterflies to her stomach and other regions.

"H-hi," Y/n says shyly, like a schoolgirl whose crush finally talked to her. The man turned away and walked away to walk towards the front desk, mud left behind from their boots which they were quickly scolded for.

"Well while you boys are makin' a mess 'round my inn you can take help these girls up to their room," Pepper, the co-owner huffs "307... the nice one." Pepper waves them off, turning to grab the keys to the room.

Natasha eyed the blonde man up and down, resting her back on the front desk, propping her elbows up behind her. "Hi there cowboy," she speaks to him flirtatiously, her pink lips form a smirk. The man ducks his head and laughs.

"Hi there. I'm Steve."

"Natasha."

Y/N rolled her eyes at the flirting, rising from the couch she went to grab the handle of her bag but was met with cold metal. Her eyes flew up to see the man in the back cowboy hat already grabbed a hold of it "I'm assumin' this is yours?" he chuckled with that honey-like voice. Y/N nods and crossed her arms over her chest, her hand still feeling the chill of his hand.

She followed behind them, taking the red-carpeted stairs. She was behind them enough to stare at the broadness of his shoulders, a small smile appeared on her lips thinking about what it would be like to run her hands down his back. No, she quickly erased the image out of her mind. That thought returned as they climbed the second set of stairs, her Y/E/C traveled down his back and landed on his backside as he climbed. A red rag hung out of his back pocket.

The man turned around as they reached the top, catching her stare at him "I'm Bucky," he tells her, breaking her out of her trance. Bucky was 2 for 2 catching her stare at him. The red in her cheeks matched the vibrant red of the rag her eyes were once fixated on.

"Y/N," she responds simply, her voice quiet.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, miss." His words made her skin tingle, small bumps rising to the surface of her clothed skin. Her green jacket covering all the evidence.

"It's nice to meet you too, Bucky," she ponders over his name for a minute "did your parents name you that?"

Bucky laughed, oh God his laugh was precious "No, uh- my name is actually James. Bucky is just a nickname, I like it better," he explains. Y/N moved from the back to his side as they walked up the final set of stairs.

"Both names are nice," Y/n chuckles, "they suit you." They both looked at each other and instantly smiled, she even unfolded her arms and let them linger at her side. She forgot what it was like to be comfortable after all this time. Walking on eggshells for a man who could set off at any moment was what she grew accustomed to. This was nice, even she had to admit that.

The two girls in front couldn't help but give each other a knowing look, Steve even joined in. "He hasn't dated in years," he whispers to Natasha as they approached the room.

"A shell of a man cheated and dumped her," Wanda tells them in a hushed voice.

They reached the white door with a golden plate '307' written in script numbers. "This is the best room at the inn!" Steve starts to gush, placing the bags on the ground.

"Clear view of the stables, horses walking around all the time," Bucky chimes in, his elbow nudging Y/N the arm. he looked up at him with raised eyebrows but he wasn't looking at her this time. Did he do that on purpose? No. Probably not.

"Well... we'll let you ladies get settled in. Don't hesitate to reach out of you need anything." Steve dipped his hat and started to walk away, clapping his friend on the shoulder, turning him to walk in the same direction.

"See you around, Y/N," Bucky told her before walking away. Her eyes lingered on the tall man as he walked away and even he turned around to catch another glance at her. 3 for 3.

"Did someone catch feelings already?" Natasha laughed as he unlocked the room. Y/N eyebrows furrowed in anger, walking in after her friends, roughly brushing past the sassy redhead.

"All I want is John back. I don't know what the hell that was out there," she defended herself, snarling as she sat in the chair by the large windows, her legs hanging off the ledge.

The women hung their heads and began to unpack "You can have the other bedroom," was all Wanda said before the conversation ended. Y/N felt the guilt rise in her heart. She didn't mean to be so blunt and rude to them, in the back of her mind she knew they knew they were trying. She was trying too.

Time had passed and clothes were hung and folded away in their drawers. Nat sat on her laptop looking for places to eat in town while Wanda checked in with her husband and kids back home. Y/N hadn't left the chair since they arrived. Checking her phone for someone who couldn't talk to her.

"Look at this cute little place in town! It's home cooking they call it. We should go," Nat tells the girl happily.

"I'll call the Uber after I talk to Tommy," Wanda joins in.

"I-I don't want to go," Y/N says, her voice softer than before. She turns his attention to the sables below her, a black horse being led by the man in the black hat. "Bucky," she whispers to herself. She watches him, his lips were moving, obviously talking to the beautiful animal. A smile dared to appear on her face while she watched him, she saw her reflection and she sucked in her lips. Her attention went back to her friends.

"We're not going to let you coop yourself up in this room all night, Y/N." Natasha squints her eyes in judgment, closing her computer with a loud thud.

"And I don't want to make this trip miserable for you guys. I just need to be by myself for a while."

"That's what we're afraid of. It took 2 weeks to get you out of your apartment."

"I'm doing better now!" she shouts, realizing what she did she gulped and sat straight up in the chair, placing her feet on the floor "I'm sorry, Nat. Please just go, have fun and I promise we'll do that spa ay like you wanted tomorrow."

"Fine, but give me your phone," Wanda interjected, holding out her hand while her other one placed her phone in her back pocket. Y/N scrunched her nose and shook her head. Wanda's eyebrows lowered, her hand still stretched out as she walked towards her. She cocked her head, striking fear into the Y/H/C. She hated when Wanda did that.

"How are you going to reach me if something bad happens?"

With the phone now in Wanda's hand, Nat said "We'll call the front desk."

The girls had left, telling Y/N to make her time alone useful. She wanted to sit and wallow in her never-ending sadness. She remembered a time like this at a New York lawyers convention when John left her in the room for hours while he partied downstairs. No, no, she didn't want it to be like this even if it was her choice now.

The stables. She walked over to the window and saw the red building empty from what it looked like. Maybe she could get a glimpse of the horse she saw. Bucky didn't even cross her mind then or was that the reason she wanted to go so badly. No, it had to have been the horse she saw. Keep telling yourself that.

Y/N stayed back a bit longer, giving Nat and Wanda enough time to leave the property. They would never let this go after the stable comment Bucky made. She stepped outside, the sun starting to set and a small chilled breeze brushes past her. Lurking around to make sure no one was there she slowly walked into the stable, the horses not paying her any attention.

There she was, the beautiful black mare standing her her stall, her face poking out of the window. Y/N walked over and let the horse sniff the palm of her hand "You're so pretty, my darling," Y/N beams, rubbing her nose. The horse nickered, making the woman laugh "You like compliments don't you."

"She craves attention!" A voice called out from the other side of the barn. Y/N whipped her head to the side, her heart thumping against her chest. Bucky started making his way over, two silver buckets in his strong arms. The sweat on his face didn't go unnoticed by her, she swallowed hard and took a step back from the horse.

"I-I didn't see a stay-out sign, I'm sorry if I'm not all-" her rambling was cut off by his soft chuckle and the clang of the buckets now on the ground.

" I don't mind, doll. Clementine loves the company." I was hoping you'd show up, he kept that to himself of course. "While you're here, do you want to help me brush her? She gets sad if I don't do it before I leave."

Y/N smiles softly and nods at him, her hands folded in her lap. Bucky eagerly opened the stall and allowed her to enter first. He ran around to empty the feed buckets and placing the buckets on the shelf. He pants as he hands her a brush, his awkward smile earning a thank you.

Bucky stood on one side while she stood on the other, brushing the shiny coat of Celmentines's body. The silence was a comfort and the soft brushing noises were music to their ears. She enjoyed the silence and stolen glances at each other. His steel-blue eyes fixated on his favorite horse, she'd never seen someone look that loving towards someone else.

He breaks the silence "So what brings you guys all the way out to our neck of the woods?"

Was she supposed to be honest? Because 'I'm desperately trying to get over a man who ripped my heart out' doesn't scream approachable. She bit her lip and looked at him from the other side of the horse, their searching eyes meeting.

"Fella did me wrong so my friends decided a getaway was the best medicine," she explained, a watered-down version of what the real devastating truth was.

Bucky nods as he listens to her, slowly making his way to her side, brushing Clementine's hip as a cover. He didn't push it any further, now wasn't the time and he remembered her somber appearance when he first met her in the lobby "Where ya from?" He asks instead

"Brooklyn." His ears perk up, he hadn't thought about that city in so long.

"Brooklyn?" he hums, "how's the city these days?"

"Busy," she responds, looking over at him trying not to act surprised that he moved closer. "You've been?"

"Once or twice." 7 years. He frowned and bit the inside of his cheek. Y/N hums and starts to brush the side of her neck. Clementine whinnies, making the woman jump back. "I-It's ok," Bucky tells her kindly, holding out his hand, "she likes that, let me show you." He takes off his hat and tosses it on top of the hay pile behind them.

His flesh arm placed at on her midback, bringing her closer to the horse. His metal arm covers her hand to guide the brush down Clementine's neck. The sound of her own heart was deafening, he was so close she could pick up everything. The smell of hay and horses mixed in wish musk and was the cedar? It was manly...just like him. The stands of loose hair stuck to his forehead, small grey hairs mixed into his stubble.

Her eyes shifted away from his face onto the sight in front of her, his hand over hers, the gold and black metal shining in the overhead light. She wondered if he could feel her. "Your arm?" she questions barely audibly.

"It was a military accident...I fell," he responded, she couldn't tell if there was sorrow in his voice or he was just accustomed to explaining it all the time.

"It's nice! I hope I didn't offend you," she tried to pull away from the situation she created but his flesh arm held her still. He looks down at her and smiles.

"You didn't. It was a long time ago."

His reassurance got her to relax. They eased into small talk about their lives, she learned that he was born here and always helped the Starks on the ranch when they opened it, leading into a job when he got out of school. He was kind and funny, made her heart constantly skip beats when he said something nice. It made her forget John Walker for a while.

The sun went down, the auto light of the stables turned on. Bucky knew he should've clocked out by now, but this was far better. She was sad, he knew that, but when she relaxed she was surprisingly funny with her quick wit, soft smiles, and her newfound love for his favorite girl Clementine.

"Have you ridden before?" he asks as they finish, taking her brush back.

"No," Y/N laughs as she recalls her childhood, "I saw a boy fall off one at summer camp and I swore I'd never do it. I admire from afar."

Bucky joins in on the laugh while he grabs his hat and dusts off the loose straws of hay on his hat. Y/N bits her lip and pats Clemintine one last time before the pair walked towards the door "Watch your step," he warns, holding his metal hand out for her to take. She looks at him for a moment, feeling like her feet were cement. Her eyes flash from his hand to the softness in his eyes.

"Fucking hell Y/N let's go!" John's hand outreached for her, it was shaking, matching his anger. "I'll fucking leave you here. You know, fuck it. Walk home." That hand turned into a fist... she didn't like that fist.

Hesitantly she takes it, her nervous fingers wrapping around his palm as he guided her over the edge of the stall and onto the main ground of the stable. "Thanks for letting me brush her, it was nice," she smiled, still holding his hand. She wasn't the only one who didn't let go.

"Any time, doll. How long are ya here for?"

"5 days," she responds. Not enough time, he frowned and bit the inside of his cheek.

"Well you can come down any time you'd like, Clem would like the company." I would too.

Y/N finally realized she was holding his hand, her eyes went wide and pulled away suddenly, her nervous chuckle ringing in his ears "I-I should go... thank you again Bucky."

She scurries off towards the inn, their hands still tingling. He'd never been this happy to still have nerves in his arm "God bless Wakanda tech," he praised under his breath, clenching and unclenching the hand.

"Y/N! Wait a minute," he shouts stopping her mid way. She turns and see's him standing there in the overhead light of the stable, like he was waiting for her to get there safely.

"Yeah?" she questions, matching the volume of his voice.

"While you're here you should try Happy's Diner! Best coffee in town!"

"I thought this place did?"

"Don't let Pepper convince you!"

Y/N giggles and nods "I will. Goodnight Buck."

"Goodnight, Y/N!" He watches her leave, making sure she was safely inside, she turned to catch one last glance at him making the brunette smile at her and waving her off.

It would be another hour before Natasha and Wanda returned to the room, finding their friend in the same position in the chair by the window. This time her shoes were dustier than before, black hairs visible on her cream-colored shirt. She stared at the cowboy painting on the wall in front of her like her life depended on it "What did you do all day, Y/N?" Wanda asks, tossing Y/N's phone on the bed.

She expected her to run and grab it, feverishly checking the messages John couldn't send. That reaction never came, she didn't flinch when the phone landed on the bed with a soft thud. Her mind was still a blur, Bucky was kind, he held his hand out for her and got her to the other side of the stall...he waited for her.

"This," Y/N remarks, coming out of her thoughts pointing to the chair she was occupying. The spy in the leather jacket didn't buy it, looking at the differences in her clothing and demeanor.

"Sounds like a bore," Nat sighs, deciding to let it go for a moment.

"How was the restaurant?" Y/N yawns, getting up and walking past them. The two redheads sniffed the air as she passed, it smelled like Y/N had been sleeping in a barn. Well, that was almost true.

"What the hell is that smell?" Wanda grimaced, her nose scrunching at the foul smell. Y/N stopped in her tracks and closed her eyes, she wasn't about to tell them about her time in the stable with Bucky. She brought her shirt up to her nose, fuck, it was her.

"Must be the atmosphere," she laughed it off, "I'm going to bed!" She rushes off before the accusations came and she knew they would come.

The door to the adjoining room slams shut and the girls give each other a knowing look "Twenty bucks says she smuggled Walker in here," Wanda bets.

"Nah, it was the guy with Steve. She blushed way too much to have done nothing about it."

"Fair."