#Steve’s control issues
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mayberrycryptid · 2 hours ago
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@trickster-archangel ooohhhhh, I ♥️ that analysis!!!!
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More pics from H50 episode 8.10
Danny and Steve aged well.
Steve: “You’re the best thing ever happened to me.”
Danny: “Aside from arthritis and prostate issues, I know.”
Steve (sighs): “Danno, you’re the only constant in my life. Glad, you didn’t change.”
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imthursdaysyme · 1 year ago
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Robin and Steve would attempt to cook together as a fun activity but every time robin ends up just sitting on the counter while Steve cooks and it’s always cause Steve can not for the life of him cook with someone else
Everyone is so confused bc they try every time the make dinner and say they are gunna do it together but never do Robin might get the measuring cups out and then be done for the night
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thebabygronckle · 10 months ago
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TELL ME somebody has made the scott mccall/stiles stilinski and steve rogers/bucky barnes parallel
SOMEBODY has to have seen that right?
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emphasisonthehomo · 2 years ago
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I am going to give Professor Danno a different car, because him driving like an asshole in a prius is exquisite.
Steve also constantly gives Danny shit about how awful his car is and Danny is just like “GAS! MILEAGE!”
I think the real question is, would Steve still insist on driving constantly if it’s a prius and not a camaro?
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daydreamerdrew · 1 year ago
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Captain America (2005) #36
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autumnrory · 4 months ago
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i at least understand why stucky authors insist on including steve/peggy because they're trying to adhere to mcu canon as much as possible though i'm kind of like *bucky voice* the thing is...you don't have to
and i get it's part of the comics and all but idk why there's so much bucky/nat too when the mcu decidedly did not go that route except for a couple little hints of it like. even if nat's 80s birthday is a lie i really don't think it fits with the timeline lol not that the creators care about their timeline either but still
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hairmetal666 · 2 months ago
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Eddie owns a record store, gets to talk about music everyday. Life is good. Great, actually.
He's consolidating the Christian rock section on a quiet Wednesday morning when it happens. A man with swoopy dark hair, tight dark blue jeans, and a plum Member's Only jacket walks in, and doesn't take his Ray Bans off even once he's solidly inside.
Eddie is awestruck. This dude is gorgeous. Heart stopping. He watches him browse in quiet astonishment, unable to say anything until he blurts, "Can I help you find something?"
The man smiles--Eddie's heart stops--and he says, "Nah, just browsing. Your sign caught my eye."
And he's still not quite with the program, the rich honey of the man's voice taking him totally by surprise. "Ah, oh, it did?" He manages after a few long beats. "Painted it myself."
"No shit? It's great."
"Thanks, man. I also think it's some of my finest work."
The guy laughs. "How can I know unless I see some of your other pieces?"
Eddie's face heats, but he's never been known for having good impulse control. "Maybe you'll get lucky."
Spots of pink bloom on the man's cheeks and the tips of his ears. "And here I was, thinking I was getting special treatment."
Eddie cocks his head, smiles big. "Well, the day's still young." It's so risky and stupid; no way this guy is queer, but he grins at Eddie, laughs a little too.
"That right? Well, tell me your latest recommendations."
"For you?" Eddie eyes him up and down. "Wham!"
The guy's laugh is warm and rich and Eddie wants to drown in it. "Big of you to say for a someone who's only listened to Enter Sandman for the last four months."
Eddie cackles, points a be-ringed finger. "It's a good song! A great record."
"Hey, I've got no problem with Metallica. I just don't think you should be casting aspersions on Wham!."
"Casting aspersions, do you have a word of the day calendar or some shit?"
"No! It's toilet paper."
Their snickers grow until they're both hysterical, needing to lean against a display to stay upright.
It's like he's living in a dream, hitting it off with a beautiful man who just happened to stumble into his store. They catch their breath and Eddie uses the time to grab a record off a nearby shelf.
"Here," he says. "Try this."
"Joni Mitchell?"
"Don't tell me, Wham! fan, that you're too cool for Joni."
"Nah, she's my best friend's favorite. How much do I owe you?"
"On the house," Eddie shrugs.
"Shit, that's generous. Thanks, man. Now, about your art--" He glances at the shiny watch on his wrist. "Fuck, is it really 3:15? Goddamnit, I gotta get going."
And Eddie wants to call him back, doesn't want this dream encounter to end, but he's dashing to the door--
And just like that, the man is gone, the only evidence it ever happened the lingering chime of the bell over the door.
The bell clatters again, and his head wrenches up hard enough it hurts his neck.
"Was that Steve Harrington?" the customer shrieks.
"No," he scoffs. Except. Except. The hair and the clothes and sunglasses and the face and his lips--
"No!?" He feels the way his eyes have gone wide with panic. He didn't just flirt with Steve Harrington. Of course not. Not ever. He would've recognized--
He runs to the racks of magazines in front of the register, grabbing the latest issue of People. The cover features a glossy, polished photo of the man who just left the store. The one who had the highest grossing movie of the summer alongside his co-star, Julia Roberts. The one who, according to the article within, is in Chicago right now shooting a new movie. The one who Eddie flirted with. The one who flirted back.
He groans and covers his face with his hands. At least he'll never see Steve Harrington again.
---
Harrington comes back.
The second time, he's wearing a jewel blue polo and fitted slacks, Ray Bans nowhere to be seen.
"Got anymore recommendations?" Steve asks.
"What?" Eddie's still trying to accept that Harrington came back.
"I finished Joni. It was good. Recommend something else for me."
Fully with the program, he reaches to the rack behind him, handing the vinyl to Steve without ever taking his eyes off him.
"Seriously?" Steve deadpans.
"Tell me you don't deserve it after last time."
Steve studies the cover of Metallica, a complicated look on his face. "Fine, but you have to listen to the album George Michael released last year."
He mimics getting shot in the heart. "After my magnanimous first suggestion, you dare to punish me with Freedom?"
"Think of it more as an opportunity."
"To regret every decision I've ever made?"
"To expand your musical horizons."
Eddie rolls his eyes. "Fiiiine. It's a deal."
Steve beams. "Good! Ring me up."
And Eddie, he'd comp it again, but Steve gives him this look that tells him not to try it.
As they pass the magazine racks, Eddie points at one featuring Steve on the cover. "That thing you wore to the Vanity Fair party last month was hideous."
Steve snorts, then laughs. "Thanks. My stylist decided to go for something--"
"--terrible?--"
"Avant garde."
"Oh, is that what they're calling it these days?"
Steve pays, throws Eddie one last smile, "next time?"
Eddie nods, already certain this time is the last one.
---
He keeps coming back.
Eddie tries not to read into it.
Steve is straight, famously has a girlfriend. former horror movie child star turned cinema wunderkind, Nancy Wheeler. They're always on the covers of the tabloids, in ever more improbable stories about affairs and secret babies and french countryside weddings.
But he keeps coming back. And eventually, they grab dinner. And that dinner becomes lunches, movies, clubs, concerts. Eddie's in paparazzi photos, and there's no speculation about their relationship. Steve has a girlfriend.
But sometimes. Sometimes Steve will rest his hand on Eddie's nape, his lower back, let it linger. He'll trace a finger down the tattoos on Eddie's forearms or the patches of his battle vest. He'll lean too close when they talk, unafraid to press their bodies together. And he catches Steve's eyes on his mouth more than once, his pupils wide.
Over the next few weeks, Steve's gaze on Eddie's mouth gets hotter, his looks longer, and it's killing him. All he wants to do, all he ever wants to do, is close the distance between them, appease the gnawing beast of desire in his chest.
But Steve has a girlfriend.
They don't talk about her, not even when he knows all about Steve's best friend, Robin, and the gang of kids who adopted him, or Joyce and Hopper, his surrogate parents. Never Nancy.
He tries not to read into it.
---
They're supposed to meet for dinner. Steve scored reservations at a trendy new restaurant, but Eddie's late. Astronomically, horrifically late. It's pouring rain, it takes fifteen minutes to get a cab, traffic is a nightmare.
Out of patience and time, he decides to run the last few blocks to the restaurant. By the time he reaches the building, he's soaked to the bone, spluttering harsh breaths through mouthfuls of rain.
Steve is walking in the opposite direction, hands stuffed into the pockets of his coat.
"Steve?" He calls.
He turns and this is the first time Eddie's seen him angry. "You're late," Steve's eyes rake over him, and his face softens in an instant. He takes Eddie's wrist, leads him into an alley where the buildings are close enough to block some of the rain.
"What happened?"
"Traffic."
Steve's gaze go all soft and gentle, and Eddie's knees buckle a little. "You look like a drowned rat."
"Yeah, well." Eddie scoffs. "We can't all be beautiful movie stars."
"You're more beautiful than I could ever be, even soaking wet."
He shakes his head, ignoring the cascade of butterflies; Steve shouldn't say things like that. His vigorous movement sends wet strands of hair slapping him in the face.
Steve reaches out, softly brushes it back.
Eddie stops breathing.
Steve closes the distance between them.
What a thing, to be kissed by Steve Harrington. What a terrible, glorious thing.
He breaks it fast, face red, can't catch his breath. "Nancy," is all he can say.
"Nancy?"
"You have a girlfriend."
Steve's face scrunches. "She's not my girlfriend."
Eddie's mouth drops. "Yes, she is." They went to the Oscars together.
"Eddie." Steve takes a few steps back. "Eddie. I'm gay."
He laughs, an ugly honking thing. "C'mon. What could she possibly get out of that?"
Steve's eyes widen, eyebrows reaching his hairline, mouth pursed in a bitchy line. It takes Eddie a minute but, "Ohhhhh. So, it's all--?"
"It was the best way."
"But you're--?"
"I thought you clocked me immediately! Wham!???"
"That was because of the jacket!"
"Have you ever met a straight man who dresses like I do and likes George Michael??"
"That describes five dudes I see a day!"
"And you thought they were straight??"
Eddie stares into the middle distance, replaying some of those interactions, and--"Huh. Okay. I get hit on at work waaay more than I realized."
"For fuck's sake, Eddie!" He's shaking his head, but Eddie sees the way the corners of his mouth shake with suppressed laughter.
"I'm sorry! You have a very public straight relationship!"
Steve giggles, pulls Eddie close. "Is this okay?"
"So okay."
"You do like me back?"
"Are you kidding! Thought I was going insane, how much I want you."
"And now?"
"Come back to my place?"
"Thought you'd never ask."
And Eddie, he's seen Steve playing at love dozens of times, but this--right here, in a soggy, smelly alley where they're both soaking wet--it's more perfect than any movie.
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potofsoup · 5 months ago
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Happy July 4th, everyone, and good luck to the UK voters out there!
Wow it's Year 11 of doing these!! Here's the AO3 link to the past 10 years, and here's the tumblr link.
Reminder that this is a long game -- some of the judges making decisions were appointed back in the 80s. Many of the cases that were decided this round were from Trump's term. So it's going to take long-term, consistent voting over a decade to start tipping things in the other direction. (Which I talked about in 2018 re: Trump shenanigans and 2022 re: Dobbs).
A lot has been done by the Biden administration (I'm assuming most folks have seen this post by boreal-sea with their very helpful sources), and much of that will be overturned by Trump, especially if he gets the Senate, and especially now that he would have a blank check for anything "official". So let's make sure that doesn't happen.
And even if Trump does get elected, your decisions down-ballot might effect control of the House or Senate, or might make it easier to vote next time, plus the whole plethora of state and local issues. It's Republican state attorney generals who are challenging climate regulations, for example.
Plus, when you really get down to it, only one of the candidates plans on pardoning himself and all his friends if he wins, and attacking the government if he loses. Maybe that guy shouldn't be the President.
If you're new to voting, remember to check voter registration deadlines! I'm a permanent vote-by-mail voter and it's so nice. :)
Transcript under the readmore
Page 1: Sam and Bucky meet up with Steve for a picnic. Steve: Thought you guys were still in Sudan? Bucky: I’m forcing Sam to take a break.
Sam collapses onto the picnic blanket. Sam: Oof, it just never stops, does it? Steve: Nope.
Bucky hands Sam an orange popsicle. Bucky: Eat and relax for a bit, Sam. Sam: Thanks.
Page 2: Bucky asks Steve: How are things state-side? Steve responds: HORRIBLE. Bucky: I thought you’ve been tentatively hopeful about what Biden has been able to achieve? Steve: I was! Student loans, child care, climate regulations, infrastructure, labor, trans rights … he’s quietly done a lot through regulatory improvements and congress bills. But now all people will talk about is how he’s OLD. And then there’s the Supreme Court’s decisions … Chevron and immunity… Steve puts his head in his hands, while Sam and Bucky look on with some concern.
Page 3: Bucky hands Steve a blue/raspberry popsicle: Steve, take a deep breath, and a popsicle. Sam: Sounds like we missed a lot. What’s going on? How bad is it? Steve: Pretty bad. The Supreme Court has made some decisions that give the Court and the President A LOT of discretionary power. Sam: Yikes, that doesn’t sound good. Steve: Well, the Chevron thing means that judges with life-term appointments can override policies made by government agencies. And now it’ll be harder to hold a President accountable because he will have immunity for any “official” actions.
Page 4: Sam: So if the President tries to, say, overturn a democratic election result, he’ll be allowed to as long as it’s in his job description? Steve: I don’t think threatening state electors is “official” business, but that will be decided by federal judges. Who get their jobs by approval from both the President and the Senate. Bucky: Yeesh. No wonder you’re stressed. Any good news? Steve: Well, thanks the Biden and the razor-thin Senate majority, the newer bills don’t rely on the Chevron deference. Still not great but not catastrophic. Sam, squirting ketchup on his hot dog: So what I’m hearing is that it’s now more important than ever to have a President and a Senate who you can trust to appoint fair judges, pass bills, and not commit crimes.
Page 5: Steve: Plus all of the state level offices, now that more and more deciding power has been thrown back to the states — abortion, LGBTQ rights, voting access… Bucky: Hey, at least this is a big election year so we can actually do something! Steve, with his arms crossed, looking surly: Except that all people want to talk about is how Biden is “too old” and “not doing enough,” as if that is on par with Trump’s desire to dismantle basic rights! As if the candidate who doesn’t embody ALL their ideals is not worth voting for! Bucky interrupts with a smart and a loud “PFFT.”
Page 6: Bucky: Um, Steve. YOU were like that in 1940. Sam, nudging Bucky: “Oh, this I gotta hear. Spill, Barnes.” In sepia, Steve is pacing around their apartment while Bucky is sitting and reading a newspaper. Steve: I can’t believe he’s running for a 3rd term! we need a fresh candidate to vote for! This is hardly a choice at all! AND he refuses to engage in Europe! All of Europe under fascist control and we’re just twiddling our thumbs? He’s letting millions die through his inaction! Bucky: Most people don’t want another war, Steve. If he came out for it, he would lose. Steve, indignant: But Buck, it’s your Polish relative who are in danger! Bucky, closing his newspaper and looking at Steve: Yeah, and between FDR and Willkes, I trust FDR to help if he could.
Page 7: Steve, in sepia, looking away: Should he be encouraged to do more? Maybe I should vote for Browder. The Communists have historically be Anti-Fascist.
Sam interrupts off-screen: Waitaminute! STEVE was going to PROTEST-VOTE? Steve: We were in a Blue State, Sam! Sam: But what about the down ballot races?! Steve: RELAX, I did my due diligence down-ballot. I wanted a senate that’s more progressive than the President.Voted LaGuardia for Mayor, too. Steve hesitates: Then, when I got to the President… I realized that the Best case scenario would be that my vote did nothing, versus if it actually spoiled the election. And when I asked myself who I could trust to work with my Senator… well, FDR had a good record with Labor. (sepia shot of young Steve voting) Bucky interrupts: Hold on, Steve.
Page 8: Bucky, eating a cookie, arching an eyebrow: You didn’t vote for Browder? Why didn’t you tell me? Steve: And have you say “I told you so” for the next century? Bucky: Heh.
Steve, with hand on his chin: What’s weird was that, despite everything, I still felt HORRIBLE when I ticked that box. Sam: Sounds like you built up the meaning of that vote far too much in your head. Logically, we know that a single box can’t represent all of the complexity of a whole system, but the desperately WANT it to. Just look at how people have built up so much around the term “Zionis” that it’s made productive conversations difficult.
Page 9: Sam and Steve speak in the background while Bucky reaches into the cooler and pulls out a box. Steve: Sigh. And that’s something that goes beyond the election. Sam: Which is why we need to vote, AND do other things. Bucky, looking at Steve and Sam: Like how Steve works to push organizations on the local level? Or like all the work you do as Captain America? Sam: Exactly. Vote AND.
Sam looks at Bucky fondly: Like how you vote AND make me and Steve take breaks. Bucky, looking stern because he can’t handle compliments: Shush, Sam.
Bucky holds up a cake that has the number “107” on it: It’s time for cake. Happy Birthday, Steve.
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marvelavengerspovs1 · 9 months ago
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Pleasure
Pairing: Stucky x F!reader
Warnings: MDNI (SMUT 18+), oral (R+B), sex toys, masturbation, fingering, anal sex, degradation kink, praise kink, threesome, I think that’s it but lmk if I missed something
Length: 1139
Summary: You come back from a long mission to find Bucky and Steve in your bed. What could go wrong?
A/N: Hi! I’ve never written smut like this so any tips would be greatly appreciated! I also must say this: MDNI! 18+ ONLY! I cannot control what you consume so you have been warned!
I do not give consent for my work to be translated, copied, or sold!
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You and Bucky agreed that you are it for each other. You couldn’t imagine your life being spent with anyone else. But you both agreed that you wanted to open up your sex lives. So you both agreed that letting Steve join the two of you wouldn’t be an issue. And it wasn’t. Steve may have crushed on Bucky in the 40s but he was over it and everything was purely sexual for the three of you.
So it wasn’t odd for you or Bucky to use Steve when one of you was away on a mission or only two of you could go.
Sweat drips down the boys’ bodies. All they can imagine is your perfect body between the two of them.
“Just thinking about her tight cunt,” Bucky grunts as Steve holds the fleshlight between his thighs.
Holding it with their hands didn’t have the same effect. They want to imagine how perfect you would be between them. With you sitting on Steve, his cock pushed deep into your ass, and Bucky on top of you, his cock deep in your pussy. Steve would thrust up making Bucky’s dick bury itself further into your slick folds.
Steve moans lightly as he holds his cock with one hand, trying not to get off on the image of you. Your breasts would bounce between the two of them, your nipples hardening with pleasure. One hand would be around Steve’s neck and the other would be on Bucky’s chest to hold yourself steady. And your mouth would be wide open with beautiful moans coming out.
“Bucky I’m going to come,” Steve whines, bucking his hips up.
Bucky starts to thrust faster, chasing his release. Quiet moans slowly become loud and messy. Bucky kisses the captain’s neck, leaving bite marks anywhere he feels. Steve moans once again and starts to pump his hand faster. Steve and Bucky start to meet each other halfway, thrusting to find their sweet releases. Until they hear the bedroom door close. They stop their thrusting and turn to the door. 
“Don’t stop just because I walked in,” You say as you drop your duffle bag.
The two boys look at each other before starting again. Their thrusts start slow, trying to torture each other. Soon, the room was filled with a slapping sound as their hips began to meet the others and with their loud moans.
You quickly begin to undress, not wanting to miss anymore. You join them on the bed and lie on your back. You spread your legs and start to tease your clit. You can feel how wet you are already, but you don’t want to come too soon.
As you circle your clit, you start to give the boys directions. “Steve, stop touching yourself and stop using the fleshlight.”
Steve whimpers a little before listening to you. With one last pump, he lets his dick out of his hand and spreads his thighs slightly to remove the fleshlight from between him in Bucky.
“Good boy.” You insert one finger into yourself but you don’t start pumping your finger. “Now I want you and Bucky to switch spots but I want Bucky to be on his hands and knees and you to be behind him.”
The two listen to you. Once they’re in their positions, you start to pump your finger in and out slowly.
“Good boys,” You moan. “Now Steve, I want you to use Bucky like he used you.” Both of them moan at this.
Steve scrambles to grab some lube before quickly squirting some onto his fingers. He pushes one finger into Bucky and Bucky shakes with excitement. When Steve adds a second finger into Bucky, you add another for yourself. You and Bucky moan in unison.
The room fills with the sound of you and Bucky getting pleasured and all three of your moans. You continue to follow Steve but stop with three fingers, knowing that you want to use something else to give you your first orgasm.
As soon as Bucky is properly stretched and prepped, Steve slams his hips into Bucky’s ass. You let out a loud moan, seeing your boyfriend being taken by his best friend.
You quickly reach to your bedside table to pull out a vibrator. The hum of the vibrator makes the boys finally look at you. You smirk as you let it collect your juices before pushing it into you. You can see the jealousy behind their eyes.
Almost as if it is a challenge to see who can come faster, Steve thrusts harder and faster into Bucky. He pulls at the slightly overgrown hair at the back of Bucky’s head causing him to moan at the pleasure. You arch your back as the vibrator hits a spot your fingers could never. You grab one of your breasts and squeeze. 
Quickly your hips start to move, imitating Steves. The boys continue to stare at how beautiful you look as you continue to chase your orgasm. Finally, your toes curl and your back arches as you let go. Your mouth is wide open as you let yourself moan as loud as you could.
Steve takes this as a sign that he and Bucky can finally let go now that you were taken care of. As you catch your breath, you can hear Bucky start to degrade Steve.
“Stop fucking me like you’re a virgin. We know that you’re the biggest slut here.”
Steve once again speeds up and thrusts harder, almost making Bucky fall. Once you take the vibrator out, you move in front of Bucky.
“Eat me out Sarge,” Bucky smirks at you and bites the inside of your thigh, close to your throbbing pussy.
Bucky uses his nose to his advantage. He nudges your clit with it and you jerk your hips up. He smiles and takes a deep breath, smelling you.
“You smell so good Doll.” He presses his tongue flat on your folds, tasting your previous orgasm. “You taste so good too.” And with that, he slips his tongue past your folds.
You gasp at the pleasure. With Steve thrusting hard into Bucky it’s creating a different kind of friction. You arch your back and grab a fist full of the sheets. 
Bucky moans into your pussy. “I’m going to come.”
You lift your hips more, pressing your cunt into his face. You can feel your release building in your stomach, tingles making their way from your head to your toes.
Knowing that Steve is close too, Bucky starts his degrading once more. “Your thrusts are so pathetic Stevie, are you even trying?”
“Do you need me to show you how it’s done?” You mock.
“You might need to get your strap-on Doll, he can’t get me off the way you do,” Bucky smirks up at you.
Steve moans and thrusts two more times and Bucky is putty in his hands. Trying to make sure you get your second orgasm, he thrusts his tongue into your pussy and you come with him.
Steve continues to pump into Bucky until he finds his release, only three more thrusts. He buries his dick into Bucky, making sure every drop stays in. With you catching your breath and Bucky still coming, you decide it’s only fair to clean him up. So you take his cock in your mouth and swallow every last drip, licking whatever drops that landed on his thighs and onto the bedding.
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sp0o0kylights · 4 months ago
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Eyes wide, body frigid in terror, Eddie felt the sheer horror of the current situation sank in. 
He was at Gen Con. 
In their hotel.
With zero vacant rooms and one minor, Henderson created, screw up.
The room only had one bed in it. 
“It’s fine, we can share.” Steve said, brushing past.
Like this was not the life ending, earth shattering, soul rendering issue that it was.
“I can sleep on the floor.” Eddie croaked trying to remember how a normal person acted instead of someone whose stomach had just fallen out of their ass. 
“Nah, I did this all the time with the basketball team.” Steve said as Eddie actively regretted every single decision that had led to this point in his life.
“Hell this is even a king sized bed. We have plenty of space!” 
Steve did a goofy little spin jump, landing butt first on the bed and bouncing on it with glee. 
“Space, sure.” Eddie echoed. 
Hands shaking, eyes determinedly focused on anything but the ex-jock, Eddie found himself chanting a mantra over and over in his head.
One that would valiantly get him through the next weekend, God and D20's willing.
'I'm fine, this is fine, everything's fine...'
“I don’t have cooties, if that's what you're worried about.”” Steve waggled his eyebrows. "Here,  I’ll even let you have one of my pillows.”  
Said pillow was flung through the air, to smack Eddie dead in the face. 
'Fuck it." Eddie thought wildly. "I am NOT fine!'
And after Eddie got his hands on him, Dustin Henderson wouldn't be either.
xXx
“I am going to kill you.” Eddie snarled, the very second he could get Dustin alone.
“No you won’t, you love me too much.” Henderson dismissed, a smug little smirk in place. 
The absolute brat. 
“I do not, and if I did, I would take it back after this.” Eddie glanced around once again, beyond paranoid about discussing this in the open parking lot of a shitty hotel, but knowing he needed to get this under control, now. 
“What were you thinking!?” 
“That I read a really interesting zine about this exact scenario, mostly.” Dustin shrugged. “Worked out great for them, I thought I’d try it for you!” 
Eddie groaned, head flying back as he fisted both hands in his hair.
(if only to prevent himself from wrapping both hands around Dustin’s stupid throat.) 
“What did I tell you? This isn’t something you fuck with man!” 
“I know, but as I told you, Steve is perfect!” Dustin protested, and didn’t even have the decency to flinch when Eddie lost control and grabbed him by the collar. 
“Perfect!?” He sputtered, actually sputtered, shaking the fist that held Dustin's shirt captive. “Perfect!?” 
“Trust me on this--you have a crush on him, he desperately needs someone in his life--seriously, Eddie, it’s sad how he acts when he’s not dating--and you guys get along great now! What’s the problem!?”
“He’s straight!” Eddie shrieked, startling several onlookers. 
“Laced!” He added immediately after, in panicked afterthought. “He’s so straight laced we could never get him to agree to that plan!” 
Dustin leveled an unimpressed look at him. 
“Dude, really?”
“We are still in Indiana, Henderson.” Eddie said, then got close enough that he felt comfortable hissing the next part through clenched teeth.
“They don’t exactly care for the queers here, even at a place like this.” 
“Are you sure? Because the Con’s welcome packet has a few different panels that--”
Eddie scrubbed a hand over his face, letting go of his idiot, freshman friend's shirt to grab at his hair again. 
“Henderson, for once,” He pleaded, and maybe it was the sheer desperation in his tone or how upset he looked but either way Dustin seemed to finally realize how serious he was.
“just once, I need you to listen to me. You cannot let Steve know I’m gay. This is something that has to stay between us, especially now I’m sharing a bed with him.” 
Which Dustin knew, because Dustin was the one who’d called and changed the room. 
“But Steve’s--”
“Most likely bisexual, I heard you the first several times you said it, but you can’t just--assume that about someone!” Eddie was well and good on a rant now, two seconds away from pacing about. “Even if you’ve been to a salon with them!” 
He pointed firmly at Dustin’s stupid face (and the kid's equally stupid mouth) before he could once again insist Steve was into men purely based on how anal he was about his hair.
“Steve might be cool with--other people,” Eddie was unsure of who knew what about Robin, and was not about to hand Dustin another secret given how he was acting about this one, “but that does not mean he will be cool with me--or you, pimping him out, to me!” 
“I’m not pimping him out!” Offended, Dustin patted at his shirt where Eddie had previously been holding it. “Look I’m sorry, but--”
Eddie groaned, loud and dramatic. 
“But,” Dustin doubled down, “You trusted me with the whole, you know.” He waved his hands in some sort of vague, unreadable gesture. “Can’t you trust me about this?”
“I didn’t trust you with that, you barged into my room and then dug around my closet insisting your character notes got mixed in with mine when I was hi-sleeping!--and then read something personal!” 
The snort he got in return let him know Dustin was well aware he’d been high as hell, but that was neither here nor there, given what had happened after. 
When Dustin, rifling through Eddie’s closet, came across one of Eddie’s private notebooks. 
The ones that contained equally private stories, penned by Eddie's hand.
One of which might have had characters--who did not sound like Steve, thank you,-- and definitely not paired with a character based on Eddie himself. 
(“So Sir Sylvan Harrachtáin and Edwin Morningson are random names you pulled out of your ass, huh?”
“Shut up.”
“Sir Sylvan with his great hair and--what’s this? A horse named…Beamer?”
“Henderson so help me--” ) 
It may have led to the two of them growing closer instead of Eddie getting chased out of town with pitchforks, but that hadn’t stopped the sheer panic it had caused when he realized just what it was Dustin was reading. 
“Potato, tomato.” The little shit dismissed, and Eddie felt the urge to strangle him return in full force. “Look I get it--I promised I wouldn’t tell and I keep my promises. But since there aren’t any other rooms in our inn…”
Eddie looked at the sky, because if he saw the little dipshit wiggle his eyebrows in relation to himself and Steve Harrington, his new friend, who baked cookies with Jeff and once helped Grant jump his car, Eddie was going to lose his mind.
Loudly, and with much fanfare. 
“You owe me. Big time.” He declared to the clouds. 
He pretended not to hear the sigh that got him, either. 
“If you so say. Now can we go to the convention?" A whine crept into Henderson's voice. "Steve’s going to think we’re fighting.”
"Fine.” Eddie finally lowered his head to glare Dustin dead in the eyes.
“But to make my ire clear, Henderson? That magic sword your dwarf just acquired is gone. Disappeared. Vanished like a puff of smoke."
He made a ‘proof’ noise, hands spreading out as he did it. 
Dustin’s jaw dropped.
“What!? Eddie--” 
“Nope.
“Edd-iieeeee--”
“I’m not listening.” He plunged both fingers in his ears, walking determinedly towards one of the other three hotel rooms Hellfire had crammed themselves in. 
Wished desperately that he could manage to swap beds with Jeff, or Grant, or someone without making Steve feel like shit--which it would, because Eddie knew things like that about Steve now.
Behind him Dustin rampaged, which at least, made Eddie a little happier.
xXx
“We can switch rooms.” 
“What?” Eddie asked, startled out of his present thoughts (and the giant pile of D&D related papers spread in a circle around him.)
He turned to look up at Steve, who was hovering awkwardly behind him.
“You’ve been weird ever since you realized we’re sharing a bed. If it’s making you that uncomfortable we can just switch.” He shrugged, like saying that didn’t hurt him, even as the kicked puppy look holding court on his face very much screamed ‘emotional damage.’
"I have not!” Eddie twisted himself around immediately. "I am perfectly fine, thank you!"
Steve frowned down at him. 
“Eddie, this is the longest conversation I’ve had with you since we got here." Steve deadpanned. "I’d blame that on the whole, you know, nerd herd gathering, but it’s pretty clear that’s not it. I watched you literally turn around and walk the other way when you spotted me earlier." 
Shit.
"It's kinda obvious you're avoiding me." 
Shit, shit, shit!
“I'm not, promise!" Eddie lied. "I’m just--distracted. There’s just so much happening and it’s--a lot.”
He said it like the con was overwhelming, and not chaos he was positively thriving in. 
Steve searched his face.
“Alright," He said doubtfully, "but I mean it. Say the word and we can switch. I'm sure Jeff'll let me share a blanket or something."
Which was the last thing anybody needed, on grounds that Jeff would try and fix things.
(Jeff, bless him, had never been good at fixing things.)
Drumming up every acting skill he possessed, Eddie flashed two thumbs up in response, painting a fat grin on his face.
“We're all good Stevie. Besides, I’m going to be up late at so many panels, you won’t even notice me coming back. You're practically gonna have the room to yourself!"
Because that was exactly what he was planning on doing, the second he realized the convention itself could provide a nice, neat little way out in the form of two different late night panels.
Who needed sleep anyway? Not him!
"Okay." Steve said, somewhat mollified.
Crisis averted, Eddie dove back into his plans, distracting himself as best he could while trying to ignore that Steve had dropped onto the bed.
(One of those plans might have involved revenge on Henderson, and that one he gave special attention to.)
xXx
There were no late nigh panels.
“Not until tomorrow, my friend!” The jovial guy dressed in what Eddie was pretty sure was supposed to be a wizard costume told him. “We had a few but the folks running them got stuck in traffic, so we had to cancel."
He beamed, like he hadn’t just disintegrated Eddie's one and only escape plan.
"Besides, if you go to sleep now you can catch some of the early morning panels!”
As if he hadn't planned on rolling into them anyway, lack of sleep be damned.
“Can we go back now?” Gareth grumped to his right, the only person who’d agreed to stay out all night with him (and who was not a 14 year old who’d been overruled by Harrington.) 
"We could go find a room party?" Eddie hedged instead, as they made their retreat.
"Dude."
"Fine," He muttered, defeated. "We can go back."
To Steve. 
And the single bed. 
In his head, he plotted out Henderson's death.
Maybe he'd use fire.
Or sticks, or even a fricken--toy horse, or something...
xXx
He'd done it.
Changed into the oversized shirt he called sleep clothes, and crawled into bed like a completely normal, totally straight human being.
Had even done a remarkable job of laying perfectly still. Exactly how a normal, not panicking person slept!
'I'm fine, this is fine, everything's fine...'
Steve was laying next to him.
He had to of course, that's how a bed worked, and yet somehow, Eddie couldn't get past it.
Or the fact that the dick wasn't wearing a shirt to bed.
His thoughts chased each other in nervous little circles, anxiety gnawing on his gut like a favored bone as Eddie did his best not to move one single inch.
Pity that the thing about attending a large convention, was the sheer amount of walking, talking, and expending general energy one had to do.
Entirely against his will, Eddie fell asleep. 
He had been planning on laying awake in frigid terror all night, to prevent any possible way Steve might clock him, but his body had other plans.
Some of which involved sleeping like Eddie normally slept--arms hugging a pillow, head buried in it's soft, comfortable, kinda ticklish surface.
He rubbed his nose further into it as the tickling sensation increased, pulling him away from the sleep he hadn't realized he'd fallen into.
Grumbling, Eddie went to adjust his stupid pillow when he had the weirdest realization that it too, was moving.
Pillows, his sleep addled brain informed him, did not move.
Steve would, though.
"Fuck!" He screeched, flying up into a sitting position as he registered that he'd gone full octopus--cuddling Steve with all four limbs.
Steve flew awake, his own body flying up into a sitting position.
His mouth started moving a mile a minute, and it took Eddie a second to parse that Steve was still partially asleep as he let out a string of absolute nonsense about code reds and being upside down.
"Whoa!" Eddie said when the guy nearly fell out of bed. "Shit Steve, it's just me!"
"Eddie?" Steve asked, halfway out of bed. "Are we--is everything okay?"
"Yeah I--yeah." He grimaced, grabbing a strand of his hair and pulling it protectively over his face. "I think I woke you up."
"S'okay." Steve ran a hand through his hair, before slowly sinking back into the bed, alarm fading. "Are you okay? Nightmare?"
Eddie blew out a breath.
"Probably. It's fine, don't worry about it."
Steve eyed him doubtfully.
"If you're sure..."
Eddie gave him a wobbly smile back, patting the space on the bed next to him as he made himself lay back down. "Promise. I'm--I'm sorry, I guess maybe I should have slept elsewhere..."
That did it.
"You're good. Startled me is all." Steve let out a sort of forced chuckle before laying back down. "I overreacted."
Eddie hummed, not trusting himself to say anything as the two of them settled back down.
It did not escape him that unlike most people who'd been rudely woken up in the middle of the night, Steve didn't try to keep any distance between them.
No, he had to scoot closer, like he needed to know his friend was near. 
Eddie squeezed his eyes closed and prayed for death.
"I get nightmares too, sometimes." Steve admitted in the following quiet and oh, God, no, Eddie could not do an emotional late night talk right now.
"They definitely suck." He said flatly, before rolling over to face the opposing wall. "Night Stevie."
Steve snorted, but it sounded amused instead of hurt.
Eddie sighed quietly in relief as he too, turned away to face the wall.
He could do this. He just had to make sure he didn't screw up and fall asleep again, and everything would be...
Perfectly...
...fine.
xXx
"--ddie, you're on my arm man."
"Wha?"
"My arm." That was Steve, Eddie's brain dutifully identified as it crawled it's way to consciousness. Steve who was his friend now, and was also talking very close to his ear. 
"Also my leg. And torso."
"You have a nice torso." Eddie mumbled thoughtlessly. 
Why was Steve here? They were doing something that should have been stressing him out, was stressing him out, but it was hard to think when he was this tired.
"Thanks," Amusement threaded it's way through Steve's voice, "but I'm going numb here. You have a hell of a grip."
Eddie frowned, the words sludging through the fog, until finally, the dots connected.
Eyes opening wide, he carefully took stock of the position he once again found himself in--wrapped around Steve like the guy was the only life raft left.
Oh my God.
"Shit sorry--" Steve oof'ed as Eddie smacked an elbow into his ribs as he let the poor man go, madly scrambling to get as far away as possible.
He tried to apologize for that, but was too busy fighting the bedsheets to get anything out. 
"Eds." Steve laughed, grabbing him as Eddie tangled them both up. "Calm down."
"I'm calm!" He protested, far too loudly, limbs flying every which way as he tried in vein to get the fuck away.
Stupid sheets-!
"Eddie." Two heavy hands came down on his shoulders, Steve having managed to get himself into a sitting position. "It's alright."
"It's not Steve." Eddie spat, and then panicked harder because fuck, that is not what he should have said.
"Hey, easy." Steve was talking quieter now, hands squeezing gently, like Eddie was some kind of spooked wild animal and fuck, he was really losing it here.
"I mean it. We're at the convention, remember? We're sharing a hotel room and you have a bunch of dorks and dumbass things to do in like, two hours."
Eddie violently shrugged him off.
"I know that!"
Steve, somehow, did not take offense to the very aggressive tone that had been snarled in. 
"Then you know you can breath for a moment. Seriously, you look like you're gonna pass out."
Which was probably true, given the rapid, rabbiting beat of his heart.
"Is this what you were worried about?" Steve added, as Eddie finally freed himself from the damn sheets. "That you have nightmares?"
��It's not nightmares.” Eddie spat instantly, chest heaving.
His head hurt, his eyes hurt, and he was exhausted to the point where he wanted to cry about it.
God did being gay suck.
“Then--what? That you cuddle in your sleep?” Steve was teasing, Eddie knew Steve was teasing but that was too on the nose. “Dude trust me, Tommy was an octopus growing up. I don’t care.”
“No it’s not, that, exactly--”
"So what is it then, exactly?"
Too. Fucking. Close.
"Drop it Steve--"
Emotions rose like a tidal wave, all encompassing. Overwhelming. 
"I would if you weren't clearly upset about something--" 
He lost control. 
“I’m gay!” Eddie yelled.
Then he clapped a hand over his mouth, like he hadn’t just panicked himself out of the closet. 
It died. 
The crazy, huge emotions. The way he'd been fighting himself, tooth and nail, the panicked thoughts that were zooming around his brain.
“I didn’t say that.” He said, eyes wide.
Steve blinked.
“I mean, you kinda did.”
Eddie shook his head.
“Nope. No. I said, I said--”
“That you’re gay.” Steve finished, then frowned when Eddie flinched. “Dude it’s okay--”
“Is it, Steve!?” He interrupted, hand finally falling from his mouth. “Is it? Because if you ask half the people at this convention--who are my kind of people and understand I’m not shilling souls to satan--if it's okay!? They'd say no!"
Tears pressed against his eyes, a reaction he hated that he had.
"They'd say no, and then they'd try to kick my ass for sleeping in the same bed as them!" 
A tear escaped and he swiped angrily at it. 
“I’m okay with it.” Steve said quietly, which had the effect of making Eddie shut up. “And those people suck.” 
The laugh that escaped Eddie's mouth was brittle.
Bitter.
He turned his head away from Steve, angry that he’d gone and admitted the very thing he knew better than ever speaking aloud. 
“Yeah well, I didn't think you would be, given how you used to accuse anyone and everyone of being a queer loser right along with the rest of the basketball team.”
Which wasn't fair, exactly--Eddie knew Steve had changed. Had seen it in the way he and Robin talked quietly about Will, when they thought no one could overhear.
(A habit Eddie would break them of, if he and Steve made it out of here as friends, still.) 
He wasn't Will though, and Will wasn't the one presently sharing a bed with Steve.
“That’s because we were all making out with each other at away games.” It was said so fucking quick Eddie briefly thought he hallucinated it.
Lucky for him, Steve wasn't done. 
“Robin thinks that whole thing was some kind of group denial. Like if we made enough of a thing out of it we could all pretend we didn’t have our hands down each others pants all the time. I am not exactly on speaking terms with that group anymore.”
He shrugged like that his fall from grace hadn’t been the center of the rumor mill for most of his senior year, and came with a lot of shit talking at his expense.
“But I can still prove it to you, if you’d like.” 
Shock--and six million thoughts-- hit Eddie like a mack truck. 
‘You’re lying/No way/that makes so much fucking sense/how did that even start/was it every game/whose pants exactly did you have your hands down and how do you feel about my pants--’ 
“How?” Eddie got out, sounding only slightly strangled. 
“Well--you’re here. I’m here."
And then Steve gave him a smile Eddie had only ever seen aimed at women, a slow lazy curl of the mouth that implied a hell of a lot.
"I'm fine with making the math work."
Maybe he was dreaming this.
(Eddie pinched himself and found that somehow, he was not.)
“I realize I don’t look like it, but I don't the whole casual kissing thing." Eddie blurted out. "Hasn't exactly gone well for me."
He regretted it the second it left his mouth. 
That was sharing too much of himself. The vulnerable gooey part who'd kissed a few girls (and even, once, a guy) and found he couldn't for the life of him make such things casual.
Plus Steve was kind of a good friend now, and Eddie had a crush so big that doing this and then never doing it again would kill him, and--
(and, and, and…) 
“It can mean something if you’d like.”
What.
“What?” 
Eddie stared at him.
Steve stared back. 
“Steve Harrington." He said flatly. "Are you trying to get in my pants?”
‘I will rip them off right here and now if you are,’ He thought wildly, like he hadn’t just tried to die on some “it has to be meaningful” hill. 
(Sue him, he was a horny teenager who'd just learned sex might be on the table, he could change his mind.
It totally wouldn’t tear his heart apart after either!
Nope, not his, made of steel Eddie’s heart was--) 
Steve raised his hands in the “don’t shoot” pose, looking all too pleased with himself. 
“Hey, you can’t fault a guy for trying. But,” and here he dropped the flirty little grin, which Eddie was only now realizing he was utilizing, “I meant it. I'm not opposed to trying this out, with you."
Trying? What the hell did that mean!?
Steve hadn't stopped talking.
"I won’t take it anywhere if you don’t want to though, don't worry.
Then he tilted his head and added; “I can also leave if that made you uncomfortable. Robin keeps telling me I can’t flirt with men like I flirt with women and--” 
“No.” Eddie’s mouth betrayed him yet again, terrified Steve might talk himself into leaving. “No--you offered!”
Steve raised an eyebrow.
“I did.”
“To have--” God Eddie couldn’t even say the words, “with me?” 
Somehow that last part came out as a question, and Eddie planned immediately to throw himself out of a window.
The grin was coming back. “Yes. With you.” 
“And it would…mean something?”
That was pushing it, Eddie knew that was pushing it, but it was like he couldn't stop himself.
This whole thing was now a runaway train and he'd ride it to it's inevitable wreck.
“For me it would.” Steve said, raising himself up on his knees. 
He inched forward, planting his hands down on the bed, face awfully close to Eddie’s own. 
“I don't like doing things anymore without it meaning something. To be honest, I don’t think I ever did. Besides, Robin's right."
"About?" Eddie asked, goin cross-eyed as Steve leaned ever so much closer.
"That when I say I admire you, or I miss you, or that I want to see you, I'm not exactly meaning it in a friend way."
Oh.
"Oh." Eddie said dumbly.
Steve closed the distance, mouth first. 
They were kissing.
Stars exploded in the sky. Fireworks went off outside, birds sang, people cheered--
(Eddie bit Steve’s lip, twice, in some sort of overexcited maneuver before he was gently guided into Steve’s lap, the ex-jock twisting to lay back down and bringing Eddie with him. 
It was smoothly done, a slow maneuver, and Eddie had to go and ruin that too by ripping his mouth off Steve’s to press sloppy kisses all down his neck. 
Thankfully Steve did not shove him off for that, or the hickie he definitely left on that stupid, tan neck, instead arranging them once again until things, finally, started to be less frantic. 
It was the best night of Eddie's life.)
xXx 
“So what does mean something involve, in this little situation we have here?” Eddie said some odd amount of time later, cuddled happily against a now naked Harrington. 
“I’m not supposed to say boyfriends.” Steve mumbled into Eddie’s shoulder. “Scares people off."
Apparently he was the type to need naps immediately after having the naked kind of fun. 
“Who the fuck told you that?” Eddie reached down, lacing their hands together tightly.
Steve kissed his shoulder. 
“We haven’t even gone on a proper date yet.” He said, rather than responding directly.
“We can’t, Steve, or did you forget where we live?”
Another kiss, this one turning into a grin when it made Eddie shudder. 
“Oh we absolutely can. I’ll prove it to you. Next Friday?” 
It took him a moment--a stupidly long moment, for someone who prided himself as a wordsmith--but Eddie got it. 
A smile exploded over his face. 
“Next Friday." He said. "It’s a date.” 
(A very long time later, Henderson would find out about all this and gloat about this so hard he’d fall off the steps of Eddie’s trailer. 
Eddie would only let him live on grounds that Steve was also there at the time, and was worried about Dustin’s ankle.
This did not stop Eddie from standing above the little shit, announcing karma would one day get him soon, and if not, than Max Mayfield, who absolutely could be bribed into committing murder.)
This was the bonus for Door Prize/Sugar, Spice (and Everything Dicey) which can be read in it's entirely here: LINK
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avecra · 6 months ago
Text
Dosed
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summary: When you are laced with a deadly pathogen, the team finds themselves working endlessly to find a cure. Only it might not be enough.
pairing: bucky barnes x reader
word count: 6.7k
warnings: canon level violence, illness symptoms (fever, cough, vomiting), angst on top of angst with a happy ending, bucky goes through many emotions
a/n: hi hello it has been a hot minute since I have been active im so sorry :( i had a lot of personal issues to deal with but now im hoping to be a little bit more active and post more stories :)
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You could feel the heavy rumble of the jet as it landed on the muddy grounds. An overcast covered the sky and emitted a soft grey through the thick glass of the display of the jet, the light pitter of rain tapped against the window. 
Bucky’s gentle touch stole your gaze from the window to the super soldier, his fingers wrapped around the Kevlar vest and he began to tighten the straps around your shoulders, pulling them into place. 
“Do I really have to wear this? Steve said that the building is supposed to be empty,” you said, trailing a finger along the front of your vest, over the stitched ‘Barnes��� that sat over the thick fabric. 
“Yes, honey,” Bucky chuckled, tightening the straps over your back. “Just cause Steve says it’s empty doesn’t mean it is. I can’t risk anything happening to you, therefore you get to wear my vest.” He winked at you and tightened the last strap across your abdomen. “Gotta keep my girl safe, now don’t I?”
You smiled sheepishly and nodded, continued to watch him strap a few guns and knives to his body. Exhaling a tense sigh, you ran your sweaty palms down the side of your tactical uniform, Bucky noticed. “It’s gonna be okay, I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.”
“I know,” you whispered, grabbing his hand. “I’m not exactly equipped for these types of missions, I’m just a little nervous.” 
Bucky’s eyes softened when he heard the small crack in your voice, his hands encased around yours and he tenderly pressed a kiss to the back of your palm. “I’m gonna be right by your side the entire time.”
You bobbed your head, taking in a deep breath as Bucky gently slid a gun into the holster on your thigh. “But just in case.”
The two of you had been assigned to track down a lone mercenary in the middle of western Canada. The stormy weather had made it difficult for the jet sensors to get a read on the building that sat in a nearly empty forest.
A mercenary hacker under the name Roman Donovan had been on Tony Stark’s radar for quite some time, after noticing the many sudden security pop ups, indicating that Donovan had smothered his way into Tony’s tech. Both Steve and Tony had been working relentlessly to find a position on him, until a sudden location popped up. 
You had your doubts, whether you were the best candidate for this mission, but Steve had reassured you with your technical and computer knowledge that you were the perfect fit.  A squeeze to your hand reminded you that Bucky would be with you every step of the way.
With a nod from you, Bucky placed the small comm device into your ear, tapping it a few times so he could hear the breaths that left your lips. He slipped one into his ear as well, tapping it a few times until he could catch the chatter of the two agents in the cockpit of the jet. 
“Prescott and Logan, stand by. We’ll radio you in case we need backup,” Bucky announced, pressing the button that opened up the ramp of the jet. He turned to you with a soft, comforting smile. “It’s just a simple extraction of files,” he reminded with a gentle hand to your back. “Ready?”
A final nod of your head, you looked at him. Ready.”
---
The building had been vacant this far, Bucky had led the both of you to the control room where you rapidly typed on the main computer. Bucky stood by the door, sending cautious glances over his shoulder every few seconds to survey the dark hallway. 
“I’m almost done,” you called out to him, fingers dancing across the keyboard, desperately pushing into the numbers and letters faster. “It had more firewalls than I expected.”
Bucky glanced over in your direction, a frown taking over his features. “Is that a bad thing?”
“Not necessarily. Just means this guy wants to keep people like me out of his stuff,” you mumbled. Bucky chuckled under his breath.
A few more clicks to the keyboard, you powered off the system and the flash drive ejected  out of the main computer. Stepping back, you watched the monitors as the files slowly disappeared from folders and main screen savers, until all the screens went dark. 
“I think I got it,” you muttered, eyes wide as they focused on the screens. The flash drive began to flicker a blue color, indicating that the files had transferred successfully without a trace of Stark technology.
The loud slamming of a door alerted Bucky, as he raised his rifle up, pointing towards the sudden sound. You pocketed the flash drive and raised your head at the sudden sound, eyes filled with confusion as they flickered over to Bucky’s alarmed blue ones.
“Get behind me,” You quickly made your way over to him and his hand immediately darted out to grab your wrist. Though you could feel the tension riding off his body in waves, his hold on your arm was gentle. “Stay low.”
You nodded and grasped the back of Bucky’s tactical vest, fisting the thick fabric. With a cautious foot forwards, Bucky stepped out into the hallway, taking slow, steady steps into the dimly lit corridor. 
Your hands made their way from the fabric of his shirt to his vibranium hand, and you gripped as tightly as you could, in a way to ground you. He couldn’t feel the tight pressure, but he could feel the weight of your hand in his. 
The two of you stealthily made your way through sets of hallways and stairwells, inching closer and closer to the doorway, until the loud slamming of boots against the tile floors halted you in your stance. Fear corrupted every fiber of your body, you couldn’t take your eyes off the panicked look in Bucky’s blue ones. 
You felt Bucky push you away behind him, before a sudden force knocked him to the ground, grunts passed through his lips. 
“Y/n, run!”
Not looking back, you trusted Bucky enough to know that he would make it out unscathed, with only a few scrapes and bruises. You, however, were not a field trained agent, with little  combat knowledge. You bolted the other direction, on the way to warn the two agents standing by in the jet.
“I need backup! Logan, Prescott, to the northeast side of the building, now!”
It wasn’t until you felt the pull of your vest and the weight of someone did you register your head slam against the ground, rather harshly. A strangled cry left your lips when you felt a needle puncture your skin, just at the conjunction between your shoulder and neck. 
His hand pressed down on your neck harshly, cutting off your air supply, but you were frozen in fear - he head injected something into your skin. You did not find the strength to fight back.
Fear paralyzed every fiber of your body.
Grunts and strangled screams were heard, you didn’t know if it came from you, but suddenly the weight was lifted off you, though you registered nothing of it. A few greedy breaths of fresh air. The pulsing of your heartbeat rang out in your ear, chiming and pudding against your skull. You laid frozen.
“Y/n is down, I have Donovan apprehended. I need backup, please!” Bucky spoke into the comms a moment later as he threw the hacker on his stomach and pinned his wrists behind his back. He was tempted to sap his wrist, but he held back. 
“Roman Donovan, you are a hard son of a bitch to find,” Bucky growled in his ear, reaching into his vest to pull out a pair of wrist restraints, tightening them to Donovan’s wrist. The man yelled in pain and discomfort.
Bucky glanced over to you, eyes softening when he took in your fragile form on the concrete. You just laid there, almost lifeless, but once Bucky saw the rise and fall of your chest, only a little relief came to him. It quickly rushed away when blue eyes focused on the empty syringe near your foot. 
“There’s a lot more pain coming your way. What did you inject her with?” Bucky yelled viciously, grabbing Donovan roughly by the hair. But the man simply let out a dark chuckle, eyes narrowing on you. The way weak coughs passed through your lips, the way you burrowed deeper into yourself.
“I know your weak spots, James Barnes.” was all he said. 
The hurried footsteps of Prescott and Logan reached his ears and Bucky abruptly stood up  and watched the two agents haul the mercenary to his feet and slam him against the wall, patting him, finding a gun strapped to his back and a small grenade. 
“Secure him to the panel near the bay doors. Bastard can fly out for all I care.” 
Bucky wasted no time in making his way over to you. A gentle hand soothed comforting circles up and down your arm, gently coaxing you and Bucky gently lifted you up in his arms and leant you against the wall, concerned as your head lolled back. 
“Baby, are you okay?” His panicked gaze flickered from the bleeding gash on your temple, to the light bruising around your neck, the small dot of blood at the conjunction between your neck and shoulder. He sighed, bringing a hand to rest on your cheek. “Y/n, answer me baby, what hurts?”
Your eyes were clenched shut and you brought a shaky hand to rest over Bucky’s, and you lifted your gaze to meet his worried blue ones. “I’m okay… I think.”
“You think?” Bucky asked, running a hand over your hair. 
“I-I don’t know, I feel fuzzy,” you mumbled, leaning your head back against the wall. 
Taking slow, deep breaths, you felt Bucky rub slow, soothing circles up and down your thigh. There was a buzzing sensation circling throughout your temples, down to your cheeks, along our jaw until it spread through the rest of your body. 
“Deep breaths in and out, baby,” Bucky whispered soothingly, leaning down to kiss your knee.
But then, in a moment or two, you felt it suddenly disperse. As if the wave of numbness rid itself out of your body. You allowed Bucky to help you to your feet, brushing his hands over the front of the vest before making sure you had no further injuries. 
“We’ll check you over at the compound,” Bucky said as he wrapped an arm around your waist and led you down the hall, following the two agents in suit. “Let’s get out of here.”
---
Bucky watched helplessly as he and Steve watched as Dr. Cho and her team scanned over your body. He couldn’t imagine how confused and scared you were, hands gripping the sheets. Your first field mission had been a complete disaster. Bruce walked in, the used syringe in an examination tube. 
“What do you think he injected her with?” Bucky asked after a couple of minutes of silence.
“It’s weird,” Bruce began, handing the folder over to Bucky. 
“I pushed it through a scanner, to see if I could find any sort of answer to what this is. All tests come back negative for a virus or disease. Has she had any of her symptoms progress on the way home?”
Bucky shook his head, “No, she’s just been… frozen, paralyzed almost. He has injected her with something; I saw the blood on her neck and it seemed like he had tried to… kill her or something.”
“You think he would?”
“Why else would he press his fucking hand over her throat?”
“That, I am not sure. So unless she starts to show signs of some sort of sickness, I unfortunately have no answers. I’ll check in with Tony, see if he has any answers. I’ll keep you guys updated.”
“Thanks, Bruce.” Bucky sighed, watching as the doctor left. He opened the file, reading over the diagnosis levels. “I still don’t get it.”
Steve hummed, taking the file out of his hand. 
“The only thing he said to me was ‘I know your weak spots’ and then called me out by name. But I have never come into contact with this guy, not even as the Winter Soldier. The dude is early twenties and lived with his grandma in east Maryland up until two years ago, living in some studio in Princeton up in Jersey. How the hell did he end up in Canada?”
“That doesn’t track at all. Unless he has dug up on all of us. He probably just wanted to get you by surprise.” Steve said. “Real name is Benjamin Croot. 24 years old.”
“Sergeant Barnes,” Dr. Cho’s voice broke through on the intercom. “She is asking for you.”
Bucky moved faster than he could process. He rushed through the doors and you turned your head at the sound of his boots. 
“Is she okay? She’s not hurt or anything?” Worried questions spewed out, his hands came to grip yours as tight without hurting you. He brushed his hand over your warm, sweaty forehead. “She’s warm.”
Dr. Cho nodded. “My team ran all the tests imaginable for this certain… situation. And everything came back negative, which worries me. If what Y/n described is true, then he must have injected her with something that is lethal or close to being lethal.
“She said to have felt numb, fuzzy almost. Those are usually the signs of a virus or even… a pathogen starts to form. But what I don’t get is that I could not find a single trace of.. well anything really.”
“Dr. Banner doesn’t have an answer either, though he’s checking in with Stark as we speak.” Bucky said, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “What should we do? Keep her here?”
The woman sighed, pieces of her hair falling from the neat bun. “Honestly, I’m not sure. Part of me wants to keep her in the medical wing, just in case, but her stats are all normal, though her temperature is abnormally high.”
“How high?”
She flipped open the chart. You hadn’t really been present in the time either of them were talking. You were just so tired. Physically and mentally. 
“The last time I took it, her temperature was sitting at about 100.5, which isn’t that bad, but it’s not great either. So, I would advise to just rest for the night, and when she wakes up we will run a couple more tests, see if anything has changed.”
Bucky nodded, squeezing your hand as the doctor excused herself. 
“Whatcha thinkin’, sweetheart?” Bucky sat on the edge of the cot, brushing hair away from your eyes. 
“Tired.” He could tell your energy was scarce.
“Let’s go to bed then, hm.”
His movements started before you even had the chance to reply. As gently as he could, he slid his arms around your waist and shoulders and helped you up to your feet. The two of you made your way from the medical bay to the residential wing, to yours and Bucky’s shared room.
“Don’t you have the interrogation to do?” you mumbled, watching his features contort when he pressed his thumb against the scanner and led you into the room. In your fuzzy mind, you barely registered Bucky’s touch as he gently peeled your uniform off and slid your pajamas on.
“I’ll do it tomorrow. Besides it’s late, sweetheart and I think I speak for the both of us when I say it’s been a long day,” He gently eased you onto the bed, gently covering your form with a blanket. 
A shiver racked through you and Bucky watched with a concerned look as you tightened the blanket around your shoulders. He flicked off the lights and crawled into bed next to and wrapped an arm around your waist. 
“Sleep, sweetheart. I’ve got you.” You faintly nodded and relaxed into his hold, feeling his hands run smoothly up and down your arms. The faint glow of the television set and the low volume did nothing to tear you from your due slumber, though you faintly felt the coolness of Bucky’s appendage running over your hair before you slipped into a dreamless sleep.
---
Sweat coated every part of your body as you woke up with a sharp gasp of air. 
Pounding temples, you peeled your eyes open and sat up; the faint glow of the TV caught your eye. The movie Bucky played had finished and had been playing in an endless loop. 
The clock on your nightstand read 2:07am, you reached for the cup of water and took slow sips, barely and faintly registering the sounds of Bucky’s light snores. 
You felt the nausea before anything else. It ran from your stomach up to your chest and you clamped a hand over your mouth, threw off the covers and made a beeline for the bathroom. 
That was until a wave of dizziness hit you and your knees buckled. Vision tunneling, you would have fallen to the floor if it weren’t for the strong pair of arms that wrapped around your waist before you could touch the carpet. I’ve got you, a tired voice murmured, but your hazy mind didn’t hear the quiet mutter.
The warmth of Bucky’s chest touched your heated back as he sped to the bathroom, flicked on the light and watched helplessly as you crashed to your knees and emptied what was in your stomach into the toilet. 
Bucky kneeled behind you and grasped your hair in one hand and rubbed soothing circles along your back. He felt you slacken in his arms, head resting back against his shoulder and when he pressed his palm flat against your forehead, he almost hissed at the radiating heat.
“You’re burnin’ up, sweetheart,” His wide blue eyes darted to your half-lidded ones, cerulean darting over your sweaty, clammy skin. 
“I don’t feel good.” you croaked. 
It hit him in one, big wave as he took over your tattered form. The confusion, the fatigue, to your spiked fever, Something wasn’t right, considering the fact that you rarely felt under the weather.
Those are usually the signs of a virus or even… a pathogen starts to form. Cho’s voice rang in his voice
Weakly, you flushed the toilet and leaned back into Bucky. Shivers racked through your body and Bucky peeled your shirt off your shoulder to see a dark blooming bruise where Donovan had injected the needle. 
“FRIDAY, wake Steve and Dr. Cho. Tell them to meet me in the medical wing,” Bucky called for the AI and slipped his hand under your back and knees and lifted you up against his chest. 
You jolted slightly, dizziness clouding your mind as Bucky stood up. You were limp in his arms, like jell-o.
The cool air of the hallway felt like a slap in the face, you pressed your cheek into the warmth of Bucky. A low whine passed through your lips and Bucky ran his thumb just below the back of your knee. 
“Buck,” Steve called, eyes widening as they fell on your shivering form. “What happened?”
But Bucky didn’t stop his movements, he spared a glance to Steve and kept heading towards the direction of the medical bay. Steve followed Bucky’s fast pace, quickly matching his speed.
“Her temperature is too high,” Bucky said, glancing over at his friend. “When we checked into the medbay, Cho noticed that her temperature was a little higher than normal, but when she got up a couple minutes ago, she was burning hot.”
A slick sheet of sweat coated your forehead, Steve noticed, and how small tremors racked through your body every so often. His eyes fell to the darkening bruise on your shoulder, Bucky caught his eye. 
“I think she was laced with something.”
Your fingers grazed the fabric of his shirt and Bucky looked down, continuing his trek to the medical wing with Steve hot on his tail. You could feel the rapid thumping of Bucky’s heartbeat as you weakly bunched his shirt in your fist.
“Laced? Laced with what?” Steve questioned as he rounded the corner, eyes locking onto Cho’s at the end of the hall.
Bucky looked down at you, clammy skin, eyes barely open, though you kept a strong grip on his shirt. “I don’t know.”
Everything was hazy the moment Bucky set you down on the hospital bed. Though sweat coated nearly every inch of your body, shivers racked through your body relentlessly. It was sweltering and freezing simultaneously. 
Nurses rushed around you, obstructing Bucky’s view from you, one of them placed a cannula just under your nose, an IV into your arm. The thought of more needles sinking into your skin made you sick. 
The last time someone used a needle on you, he was malicious as he jammed the needle into neck harshly. The memory brought nothing but fear to you. 
You were hot. Uncomfortable. The pain in your head was nearly unbearable.
“Bucky,” you called out, only it came out more of a whimper. “W-where’s Bucky?”
Metal clamped gently on your hand, the other hand coming to smoothly brush your sweaty hair back. “I’m here baby, I’m right here.” 
“It… it hurts,” Bucky watched as another nurse attempted to put another needle through your skin, he noticed the subtle shaking of your head, the whimpers.
“Is that really necessary?” he asked with a sharp glare, it melted away when he looked over at you. “What is it, baby? What hurts?”
“My head.”
Worried eyes wandered over to Cho’s as she placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Sergeant Barnes, I understand you want to offer her comfort, but I can assure she is in good hands with my team.” 
Bucky nodded, leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek. His finger trailed over your forehead gently, and when he saw Steve and Sam in his peripherals, he sighed to himself. “I’ll check up on you later, sweet girl. I have something to take care of.”
You nodded drowsily, the dizziness taking control. 
Bucky reluctantly moved away from your bedside to his two closest friends, solemn looks on their faces. Sam kept his eyes on you, watching as the nurses took your temperature.
“How is she?” he asked. Bucky kept his eye on you the entire time, watching your tired eyes start to close. 
“It’s not looking good,” Bucky sighed. “Her temperature is extremely high, nausea, light-headed and dizziness. Whatever this bastard did to her, he has to deal with me now.”
“He’s downstairs, whenever you’re ready.” Steve said, his eyes laying on your frail body. “It is 2 in the morning and one of my teammates is lying on a hospital bed with a fever of over 100 degrees and a migraine that’s probably killing her. Let’s get this over with.”
---
Roman Donovan sat in a cold, bright room, hands cuffed to the tables with two SHIELD agents armed standing at the entrance. A smug smirk sat on his face as he fidgeted with his fingers. His head perked up at the sound of the door opening. 
“Well, if it isn’t the mighty Winter Soldier, what a traitor you are to your own country, huh? I mean, working for the people who you literally fought against-” Sam walked behind him and gripped his shoulders tightly, fingers digging into his muscles. 
“I am only gonna say this once, so you better fucking listen to me. What did you do to her?”  
Donovan chuckled, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, old man.”
Bucky shook his head, vibranium fist clenched. 
“You know, Roman, this guy isn’t too fond of repeating himself. Especially to arrogant assholes like you.”
“What did you do to her, Donovan?” Bucky was strangely calm.. “You know the woman you attacked earlier, the one whose throat you almost crushed after you injected her with drugs? She’s got three degrees in chemistry, computer engineering and computer science, so I get why you, a man of your personality, would go after someone who is not strong enough to put up a fight against you.” 
Steve looked on through the window, phone pinging. He pulled it out, the text from Natasha sent dread through himself. 
Temperature over 105, tests coming back positive for some type of influenza. Cho is really worried. Not looking too good for her.
“Shit.”
He went on and walked into the room, leaning over to where Sam stood. 
“So aggressive, James. And for what reason?”
Sam chuckled, crossing his arms. “If you think this is aggressive, you’re in for a ride.”
“I’m gonna ask one more time, and if I don’t get an answer, that means you’re straight up out of luck.” Bucky leaned forward, black and gold vibranium reached for the chain of his restraints and pulled him down, causing Donovan to hit his head. “What did you inject her with?”
The man tilted his head, blood dripping down his cheek. “What makes you think I injected her with anything?” he cockily sneered. “I thought all the Avengers were required to be knowledgeable in the field, cause let me tell you, Sergeant, that little girlfriend of yours is such an easy target.” 
Steve nudged Sam, leaning his phone towards his eyeline, showing the text message. Sam felt a pang of worry settle deep in his stomach, sharing a worried glance with him. 
There wasn’t much time left for you. 
Steve stepped forward, pulling Bucky aside to show him the text message. 
Blue eyes raked over the words he had been dreading the most. "Not looking too good for her.”
“Well Donovan, I want my answer.”
The man smirked. “Yeah? Or what?”
Bucky’s left hand reached out and grabbed a fistful of Donovan’s hair and slammed his head against the metal desk one time only, though it was enough to break the man’s nose. Screams of pain resounded in the small but soundproof room. 
“No one’s gonna hear you, Donovan! Those guys with the big ass guns? They’re not gonna help you either. Not when one of their own is about to die in this building. And so help me, Benjamin,” Bucky sneered into his ear, the man’s eyes wide with fear, “if she dies under your hand, there is nothing on the green earth that is going to stop me from tearing you apart. I’m gonna ask one more time, what did you inject her with?”
“A deadly pathogen! It’s a pathogen that kills its hosts within 24 hours of it being administered.”
Bucky’s eyes glanced at the clock. 2:58 AM. It was a late night mission, the jet had landed in Canada at 7:45 PM. Meaning you had to have been injected with it at 8:00 or so. Meaning six hours had already passed, he had eighteen hours left. You had eighteen hours left.
“Did you know adults that experience fevers that go over 105 degrees can run into complications causing serious implications of brain damage,” Sam blurted out. “means you’re in the dog house if we lose her. And ain’t a single one of us is gonna stop that mean.”
“Is there an antidote for it?” 
Donovan nodded. Bucky slammed a pen and a notepad down on the table, causing the man to jump in fear. “I suggest you better start writing it down. Now you get to deal with Tony Stark and Bruce Banner. Better start writing.”
Eighteen hours would go by quickly. 
---
“Sergeant, it’s not looking good for her,” Dr. Cho said, voice breaking slightly. “This virus that she’s fighting, it’s too strong.”
Bucky looked through the window, heart shattering as his blue eyes fell on the breathing mask they covered your mouth with, the tubes that kept you hydrated. You looked so… lifeless. Natasha sat by your side, her hand gripping your wrist, though you were so out of it, eyes barely open.
“He injected her with some sort of influenza. He knows the antidote, but he has less than eighteen hours.”
She noticed the worried look in his eyes. 
“She was constantly asking for you. Even in a state of being delirious, she was still calling for you. Natasha was able to calm her down.”
The soldier gulped. “Is… is she going to die?” 
For a moment, Dr. Cho couldn’t answer. She didn’t know the probability of the antidote being made on time. 
“James, I cannot answer that. But what I can say is that I will do everything in my power to keep her alive. She’s a fighter.” With that, she excused herself. Bucky stood still for a moment before pushing the door open.
The sounds of your heart monitor and the sounds of oxygen traveling through the tubes filled the room. Natasha’s emerald eyes met Bucky’s, a small smile presented on her face. 
“Any updates yet?” she asked, but it fell on deaf ears as Bucky kneeled at your bedside, grasping your limp hand tightly in his. 
The amount of pain that swirled in his mind was almost too unbearable. Your eyes met his, though you couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. Tears welled in your eyes as they rushed down your cheeks. 
“It’s okay, my love. I am right here.” His voice was above a whisper and pressed a kiss to your palm. “Tony and Bruce are gonna find a cure for you, honey. I promise. It’ll all be okay.” He felt you weakly try to grasp his hand back, but the action alone made you more tired. 
“I love you so much, baby. Words can’t comprehend my love for you. I want you to know that,” Tears welled in his own eyes, his hands reached up to cradle your cheek. You leaned into him. “I love you.”
Your skin was so warm under his touch. His eyes read over the stats on the open chart, seeing your temperature rise every hour. 
“She was injected with some sort of influenza. Tony and Bruce are working right now.” 
“Did you find anything else?”
Bucky kissed your hand, gently guiding your head back on the pillows. “Son of a bitch has the antidote. Had to break his nose just to get him to spill it out.” 
Natasha placed her hand on his shoulder. “I will stay with her and I’ll alert you guys if anything changes. Just try to hurry.”
Bucky nodded and leaned down, hugging your frail, weakened body and pressed a kiss against your chapped lips. “I love you, Y/n. I’m gonna fix this.”
He did not spare Natasha a glance as he stormed out of the medical wing, boots stomping with every step he took. Long strides took him to the end of the hall, where the elevator was.
“FRIDAY, where is Stark and Banner?”
“Both are in Mr. Stark’s lab. Shall I notify them that you are coming?”
“Tell them I have a stop to make first.” Bucky slammed the button to the interrogation level. “ I’m coming with the antidote.”
---
Donovan jumped in his seat when the doors opened, revealing the shadow of Bucky’s figure. A knife sat in his hand. The prisoner visibly shivered. 
“You know what I’m here for, Donovan.” 
“Come on, man! It hasn’t even been-”
The knife that was once held in Bucky’s hand was now lodged into metal table, an inch away from Donovan’s finger. 
“You’re fucking crazy!” 
“What happened to the tough guy act, huh? You wanted to act all big and bad up in Canada. Why the sudden change of heart?” Bucky taunted him, walking closer to the pad of paper that had been scribbled on, step by step, three pages, front and back. “Remember, you’re targeting my weak spot.”
He seemed ashamed, guilty almost. But it wasn’t because your life was in jeopardy. It was because he was caught, with no one left to save him. 
“You know, you’re already facing five counts of criminal charges of unauthorized access into government systems, you wanna add a murder charge to that? Assault with intent to cause bodily harm? That sounds like fifty years to me, that is with just the unauthorized access charges.” Bucky sat down across from him. “And if this,” he held up the paper, “isn’t true or it doesn’t cure her, you’re facing a very serious murder charge of a federal agent.”
“You’re nothing but a coward, Benjamin Croot. Tough guy act falls the minute you’re faced against someone who overpowers you. You’re gonna rot in that prison for the rest of your life.”  
---
It was morning.
The sun had risen fully. 
10:47 AM
Tony and Bruce had been hard at work, trying to figure out the antidote. It was nearing the afternoon, and they had been at it since nearly four in the morning. But neither were giving up. Not when your life was on a timer.
Bucky had dropped off the paper before going back up to the medical bay, spending his time with you. He hadn’t slept since he first woke up, his groggy eyes immediately landing on you staggering to the bathroom.
He laid in the small bed with you, balancing himself on the edge, giving you all the space. He had laid a damp rag over your forehead, in hope to cool you down a little. Tremors racked through your body suddenly, Bucky jolted. 
You laid still for a moment, eyes clenched shut, brows furrowed. An unpleasant gurgling sound came from you, body jerking slightly. Bucky’s eyes widened and he pressed the call button repeatedly before running to your side. You weren’t awake, you were warmer than before, heartbeat rapid as the monitor started to go crazy, alarms blasting. Dr. Cho and a couple nurses suddenly bursted into the room, eyes wide
“What’s wrong? What’s happening to her?” Bucky cried out, helplessly watching as they pushed you on the side. 
“She’s choking. Her lungs are filling up with fluids, and if we don't drain it, she will lose her.” Bucky’s eyes filled with horror. “Sergeant Barnes, I know you’re concerned for her health and safety, but I need my full attention if I’m gonna save her. Please.”
Bucky wordlessly nodded, his eyes fixated on your body, your face. 
Eyes closed.
Pale skin.
Lifeless, almost. 
The monitor flatlined. Bucky was pushed out of the room. Sheets pulled around your bed as voices screamed and yelled, though it was all distorted. 
“Bucky?” He turned to Sam, tears spilled over his cheeks. 
“She’s…” A cry got caught in his throat. “she’s flatlining.”
Chocolate eyes widened. 
“I need to find Tony and Bruce.”
Sam loved you like a sister. The two of you had always been close, ever since you joined the team. And when Sam laid eyes on you, defibrillator pads pressed on the exposed skin of your chest, head laid back, a knife twisted into his heart. 
Neither men didn’t move a muscle until the flatline changed to a faint beeping. 
---
“Please tell me you’re somewhat close to putting an antidote together.” Bucky and Sam pushed through the doors. Tony looked up, “How is she?”
“She’s running out of time, she flatlined for a minute,” Bucky rambled out. “Please, Tony. What do you have so far?”
“It’s almost done, I think. We followed every single one of the steps, used past remedies that have helped even Thor himself from a virus. But if this guys even altered one of these steps-”
“He’ll have to face me then.” Bucky finished. “Is it ready?” Tony nodded, though he had a look of hesitancy. “What is it?”
Tony looked over at Bruce, having just placed the antidote in the freezer. “It needs to maintain a temperature of -50 degrees. Meaning…”
“You need to bring her down here, or else it won’t work. I have all the medical supplies she’ll need down here. I just need you to transport her.” 
“I’ll do it.” Bucky said, not that anyone else would have even offered. “Have every single thing ready by the time I step foot in here.”
“I’ll inform Cho.”
Both scientists nodded, scrambling to ready the emergency medical cot. Sam followed Bucky as they raced through the stairwell, racing up the stairs, though adrenaline gave Bucky all the energy in the world it seemed. 
Once he reached the room, Sam sprinted to ready the elevators, to get you to the lab as quickly as possible. Dr. Cho had removed all the tubes and wires off of you, only an oxygen mask with a tank attached. 
“Come on, baby,” Bucky strapped the oxygen tank to his back and slid his arms underneath your knees and shoulders, and ever so gently he lifted you up, grey hospital gown drenched in sweat. Your head lolled back, arms and legs completely limp. “I got you, baby, I’ve got you.”
With you laid against his chest, he moved swiftly, his pace faster than normal and it wasn’t long until he was in the elevator with you, nearly unconscious in his arms. Bucky looked down at you and rested his forehead against your sweaty hair, though it did not bother him in the slightest. 
Your brows furrowed for a moment, followed by a whimper. “We’re getting there, love. We’re almost there.”
The doors opened and Bucky made a beeline for the lab doors, immediately going to the corner of the room where they had the cot set up. As gently as he could, he cradled the back of your head as he placed you down on the mat, softly placing the tank on the ground. 
“Okay, now Tony.” Bruce unbuttoned the gown at the shoulder, revealing where you were attacked. Bucky held the side of your face, caressing your cheek. 
He had placed a part of his armor on the hand piece as he took it out of the freezer, glancing  at the space from the freezer to you, and in two big strides he held the needle just above the darkening bruise and quickly administered it into your skin. He pressed the button and a fluid was shot into your shoulder.
Your body shuddered for a moment, there was no sudden movement from you.
It was the longest minute of Bucky’s life, his eyes filling up with tears. The sudden rise and fall of your chest kept getting  stronger with every breath you sucked in. The bruise surrounding your shoulder slowly vanished, your natural skin color coming back. 
When your eyes peeled open, Bucky nearly sobbed in relief, crashing on his knees as he gripped your arms. 
“Y/n, baby, can you hear me?” he pleaded desperately. 
“B-Bucky,” your voice was raspy and raw.
“Oh my god, you’re okay. You’re okay, you’re okay, you’re okay,” he muttered over and over like a mantra, cradling the back of your head as he peppered your forehead and cheeks with kisses. You were still a little warm, not as life threatening as it was beforehand.
“W-where am I?” you tiredly asked, eyes roaming around the lab. “What happened?”
 Bucky gently took the oxygen mask off, replacing it with a nasal tube. “You were poisoned, honey.” Flashes of you flatlining not even two hours ago flooded his mind, but he shook them away. You were well and alive, breathing with a steady pulse. “You were really sick for a while, 
but Tony and Bruce here made a cure for you.”
You nodded, still a bit drowsy from the near death experience. “What about… him?” 
Though your voice was barely above a whisper, Bucky heard you clearly. “He’s already taken care of. If I had it my way, the bastard would spend the rest of his life on Raft for all I care.”
Tony chuckled, coming over to pat your hair and a quick kiss to your head. “Leave that to me, kiddo. This kid doesn’t know what’s coming to him. Get some rest, hon.”
Bruce, Tony and Sam all bidded you a goodbye, leaving the two of you alone. 
Bucky cradled your face in his hands, pressing a soft kiss against your lips. “I love you, sweet girl.”
“I love you, too, Bucky.” You sounded downright exhausted. But you could finally rest. “This is why I stay behind the computers.”
Bucky chuckled and laid against the pillows, pulling you to lay on his chest. “Valid.” Your laugh was a tired one, Bucky could tell. “C’mon baby, let’s nap together.” 
You had no obligations on that, closing your eyes as you held onto Bucky’s arm, lulling to sleep. 
Finally, Bucky could rest knowing that you were at ease and finally able to rest without being in pain. His eyes drifted shut and you both finally succumbed to a well deserved rest.
--
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steddieas-shegoes · 5 months ago
Text
we share that really
for @corrodedcoffinfest prompt ‘band politics’
rated t | 905 words | no cw | tags: famous corroded coffin, reunion tour, future fic, steddie dads, everyone has a family and is happy
🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸
Their label said it was too soon to do a reunion tour. They were only in their early 40s and had only been officially “broken up” for ten years.
But they were all in the right place: married, children who were old enough to come on tour but still young enough to be excited about it, and writing music that meant more to them than anything they’d done before.
Rumors had swirled for years after they announced their break up. None of them saw it as a breakup, more an early retirement that let them focus on building their lives. Fans and media alike hadn’t stopped coming up with other reasons for it: Gareth had been in love with Eddie for years and finally said something which caused friction, Jeff’s wife had threatened to divorce him if he didn’t take time off, Frankie had a drinking problem that was spreading like a viral disease.
None of it was even close to true.
The one and only reason for all of them was that they wanted to focus on their families for a while.
They stayed in touch, almost more than when they were on tour together. Jeff and Gareth lived in the same neighborhood, and Frankie bought an RV so he could come visit as often as he wanted. Eddie had traveled for a very extended honeymoon with Steve for nearly a year before finally settling an hour away, halfway between his favorite people and Steve’s favorite person.
They still played together at least once a month, a full set and any new stuff someone brought with them.
So when they all agreed it was time to come back and record a new album and do a tour, it wasn’t really a reunion so much as an excuse to be even closer for a while.
The label was thrilled, willing to give everyone their own tour bus so their families could come with them for the US part of the tour.
One thing none of them were prepared for was the media following the announcement.
“Is it true that you only just reconciled after years of legal battles about rights to songs?” A journalist from Rolling Stone asked.
Gareth snorted. “Not even a little, dude. We’ve been best friends this entire time.”
“So there was never any issue with Eddie being the most famous?”
Everyone looked over at Eddie, who was making faces at his youngest daughter at the side of the stage. Jeff leaned into his mic and gestured over to him.
“None of us have ever had a problem with him being the face of the band. We’re here to make music and perform, not fight over who gets to be in the center of pictures,” he said. “Plus, none of us would wanna deal with what he deals with on a daily basis. He’s not that interesting, I promise.”
Everyone laughed as Eddie turned back to the crowd with a smile. “I’m super boring. Just ask my kids.”
"So you don't mind that he gets creative control?" Another reporter asked.
They all shared looks with each other before Eddie leaned forward into his microphone to answer.
"I don't have creative control. We all share it. We all share everything. That's the point of a band like ours. Sometimes I know what sounds best for a guitar solo, sometimes Jeff does. Sometimes Gareth writes a chorus that people will sing along to, sometimes Frankie does. We've never had any of that lead person bullshit no matter what the media wants to show," Eddie drummed once on the table. "Are there any questions about the upcoming album and tour or is everyone here gonna keep asking about shit that isn't true?"
"Language!" Steve yelled from the side of the room.
Everyone laughed and Eddie waved him off.
They got more questions about the album and the tour and it finally seemed like everyone was done asking about band politics until the very end.
"So will Eddie still be the lead guy for the reunion?" Someone from the back asked.
Eddie banged his head against the table.
"Alright, thanks everyone! We'll see you on tour!" Gareth yelled as he pulled Eddie's arm so they could all exit the stage.
"They want us to hate each other so bad," Frankie shook his head.
"Look at this face," Gareth said as he grabbed Eddie's jaw in one hand, squeezing his cheeks until his lips pouted out. "Who could hate this face?"
"Shit!" A small voice exclaimed from behind them.
Eddie turned to see his youngest daughter smiling up at him and Steve standing next to her with his hands on his hips.
"You're right, sweetie. Daddy's in deep shit," Eddie leaned in to kiss Steve's cheek. "And he is so sorry for breaking the no bad words rule today. He really is."
"Our fearless leader appears to be absolutely fucked," Jeff said as he started to walk towards his wife and kids.
Gareth trailed behind him in search of his own family.
Frankie punched Eddie's shoulder. "Good luck, big guy."
"Everyone hates me, call the media and tell them they were right," Eddie pouts.
Steve rolls his eyes and picks up their daughter, walking away.
Eddie turns to his twins. "Well, you guys don't care if I say shit."
"You said worse while getting ready this morning."
"And I'll say worse again! Let's get out of here."
636 notes · View notes
romanscoming · 11 months ago
Note
Love your stranger things work!! 🤤😍
PLEASE MAKE A MARVEL OR SPIDERMAN TWT LINKS PLZ 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻
MERRY CHRISTMAS 2 YOU ALL <3 !
MARVEL - PORN LINKS !
VOL. 1 - [ MALE ~ !PART1 ]
NEW TAGLIST | REQUEST | WATTPAD
SEND REQUESTS &MAKE SURE TO DO THE TAGLIST !!
INCLUDES: Thor Odinson, Peter Parker { TOM & ANDREW }, Steve Rogers `Captain America, Tony Stark `Iron Man, Dr. Stephen Strange, Loki Laufeyson, Eddie Brock/Vemon, Bucky Barnes, Bruce Banner/Hulk (MORE IF REQUESTED)
WARNING: these are links that contain porn, sexual activities.. so be aware.
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——
↣ THOR ODINSON
THOR feels like heaven when u ride him .
THOR loves it when you worship him to beyonce <3 !
THOR pounds inside of u in the closet next to the meeting room .
THOR like some wild shii, and ur just here for it .
↣ PETER PARKER
PETER always wanted to eat you out, and you finally let him .
PETER1 & PETER2 both came too help u release some stress .
PETER doesn't like u teasing him at school, so he fucks u at home.. long and hard
PETER failed his mission, and needs you .
↣ STEVE ROGERS
STEVE loves it when you use him as your person dildo .
STEVE loves ur special halloween costume he even fucks u in it .
STEVE is madly in love with your tight little pussy, he wants to cum inside u and fill u all the way up all the time .
STEVE can fuck you all night long, he doesn't care.. he js needs you wants u and has to feel ur insides, he wants your legs shaking and everything inside of u.
↣ TONY STARK
TONY will fuck you anywhere in the avengers hq, he doesn't give a fuck .
TONY will never let u bath in peace, u have to be full of his cock .
TONY special bday present, he's been dying for this .
TONY breeds you full, not letting a single one of his kids fall out of ur prefect pussy hole .
↣ DR. STEPHEN STRANGE
DR. STRANGE find u in the kitchen and place u on to his dick .
DR. STRANGE loves the feeling of their cum spill inside of u .
DR. STRANGE wants u to jerk him off and keep eye contact .
DR. STRANGE can't keep his hands off of u when ur riding him sooo good .
↣ EDDIE BROCK / VEMON
EDDIE is a real softy when your on top of him .
EDDIE randomly pops in at your apartment and fucks u brainless standing up .
EDDIE & VEMON always take care of u, ur their little baby and fuck toy .
EDDIE/VEMON has u bouncing babbling and more on his dick .
↣ LOKI LAUFEYSON
LOKI has been mad all day, & what's better than release all his anger out on u ?
LOKI always wants it raw, as soon as u wait up, as soon as your home.. anywhere.
LOKI thinks he should start punishing you more after this .
LOKI has to fill u up with his cum before leaving on a mission .
↣ BUCKY BARNES
BUCKY has attachment issue.. he has to show u that he loves u and he has to be close by u, he has to b deep inside u .
BUCKY does not play with it comes to creampies and backshots .
BUCKY doesn't think u can handle him, so u show him u can .
BUCKY will never stop breeding u, ur gonna b his little momma someday .
↣ BRUCE BANNER / HULK
BRUCE always lets u take control, because your is prefect girl ^^ .
HULKS dick straight in ur cunt, over and over and over .
BRUCE wants u bouncing on his dick while natasha watches and help .
BRUCE gets a promotion and wants u to make u happy .
| SORRY FOR NOT POSTING, I'VE BEEN REALLY BUSY BUT IM HERE NOW, AND ILL B FEEDIN U PUMPKINS <3.
~ BE PREPARED FOR A LOT OF P LINKS BECAUASE I HAVE A COMPLE OF REQUESTS FOR THEM, AND FEEL FREE TO REQUEST ONE OF ANY FANDOM !!
` ILL START THE TAGLIST SOON IT JS MAKES ME NERVOUS FOR SOME REASON !
IF ANY MISTAKES OR ERRORS PLEASE LET ME KNOW !
©️ trustynjaay
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queen-of-the-avengers · 4 months ago
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Slippery Rendezvous
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~1.5k
Warnings: none
Summary: Natasha doesn’t approve of your feelings for Bucky despite your many attempts to convince her that he is the man for you. What else can you do when she forbids you to date any of her friends?
Squares Filled: natasha romanoff / black widow (2021) for @buckybarnesbingo
Author’s Note: any and all comments are greatly appreciated <3
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You wake up to an empty bed. What did you expect? That he’d stay? Bucky isn’t known to spend the night after fucking you but you keep wishing he would. You run your hand down his side of the bed and feel the cool sheets. He must have left early in the morning so that your sister wouldn’t see him.
It’s not like she hates him but she hates the idea of you being with any one of her “coworkers”. Natasha isn’t shy when it comes to relationships and often encourages you to go out and have fun with different men. She loves dating even if she doesn’t show it, and you love telling her about all the dates you get to go on. The issue is that she doesn’t want you dating anyone she knows. She knows the baggage that comes with the men she knows and doesn’t want you mixed up with it.
You went to University to get a degree as a voice actor. You’ve gotten gigs across the country but ultimately settled in New York where you got a job working on a popular animated television series. You’re already in your third season and have no plans of stopping anytime soon. Natasha loves to tell you how normal you are and how different you are compared to the shit she goes through every day.
You’re not a spy and you have no desire to be a spy. You’re not Natasha’s biological sister because you came into her life well after she got done with the Red Room training. She was on a mission to kill your father for all the bad shit he has been doing. You hated the man and had always wanted to leave. However, your mother died at birth and you were a minor at the time. He always hid his shady shit which is why he didn’t get convicted for anything.
She saved you and she adopted you a couple of years later. You don’t blame her for your father’s death even if she did pull the trigger. He’s a bad man who is rotting in Hell and you’re better off for it. Now, you have a successful job and are in love with the infamous Winter Soldier. Only he doesn’t know it and if he does, he doesn’t do anything about it.
You two met when Natasha was having a party at the Avengers Compound. She didn’t want you to go but you insisted that with her by your side, you’ll be fine. It’s not like the Avengers are going to pick a fight with you or anything. Even Bruce had his alter ego under control, so she relented and let you come.
Her world is and was much different than yours. She told stories of how she went to space, how she kicked someone’s ass, and how she infiltrated an organization. All you have to show for is the work you’ve done for entertainment. You’re not nearly as special as any of them but Bucky makes you feel like you are.
He kept to himself in the corner of the room drinking something that wasn’t alcohol when you approached him.
“Hi. Do you mind if I join you?”
“No, go ahead,” he clears his throat.
“I’m Y/N. I’m Natasha’s sister. Adopted sister, actually, but she feels like a real one to me. What’s your name?”
“You seriously don’t know who I am?” he chuckles.
“I know who you are but I’d thought I’d be polite and let you introduce yourself instead of assuming I know everything about you.”
“Right,” he nods. “I’m Bucky.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Bucky.”
You two fell into conversation that lasted well past the party. Natasha had a secret thing for Steve and didn’t mind staying over as long as you were safe and okay with staying. You left that night with thoughts of Bucky and when the next time you were going to see him, but Natasha didn’t share your enthusiasm.
“Listen, I don’t want to tell you what to do but I don’t want you seeing Bucky.”
“Funny. That sounds exactly like you telling me what to do,” you scoff.
“I mean it, Y/N. Bucky is a good guy now but he wasn’t always like this. He’s not all the way back yet and I don’t want you getting hurt. With any of them. They have too much baggage and you don’t need something like that in your life.”
You look out the window in annoyance.
“I just spent the last two hours talking to a guy who made me feel like I was the only woman in the world. I’m not saying I want to marry the guy but I felt something that I haven’t felt with any of the guys I’ve dated.”
“I knew bringing you to that party was a bad idea,” she scoffs. “You’re not seeing Bucky. End of story.”
“I am an adult, Nat. Let me make my own decisions. Let me decide if he’s worth the heartbreak.”
“He will do more than break your heart. He will break you. He didn’t get his name for nothing. His body count is well into the hundreds if not thousands. I am not worried about him breaking your heart. I’m worried about him killing you. I mean it, Y/N. Stay away from that one.”
You tried, God knows you tried, but there is something about Bucky that you couldn’t stay away from. You formed friendships with Wanda and Thor which gave you an excuse of going to the compound where you knew Bucky was living. Wanda caught on pretty quickly at what you were trying to do since she can read minds and all that, and she agreed to keep your affair with Bucky from your sister.
You’re not trying to hurt Natasha but you fell for Bucky and fell for him hard. He just never stays the night like you hope he does.
You get out of bed and walk to the bathroom where you hear the shower going. Natasha must be in there. You slip in and knock on the door to let her know that you’re inside the bathroom with her.
“Hey, Nat, I’m just going to brush my teeth. I’ll be out shortly.”
You slip in, close the door behind you, and walk over to the sink.
“I’m not Nat.”
You tense when you hear Bucky’s deep voice but then smile when you realize he slept the night in your bed. The curtain slides to the side just enough for him to peek his head out of it, and you turn to face him.
“I thought you left last night.”
“Nope. I wanted to stay the night with you. Is that okay?”
“It’s more than okay.”
He closes the curtain again and resumes cleaning himself.
“Got any plans today?”
You’re about to answer when you hear the front door slam open and shut. Natasha is the only one who has a key so she must be back. If she found out Bucky has not only been dating you but secretly fucking you, she’d have a heart attack and probably kill him.
“Y/N? Are you in there?” The bathroom door shakes and you do the first thing that comes to mind. You quickly hop in the shower, fully clothed, and look at Bucky who smirks. The door opens and Nat walks in. “Y/N?”
“I’m in the shower!” Bucky’s mouth opens so you place your hand over it so he understands he needs to be quiet. “What do you want?”
“Listen, Steve and some of the guys are having a cookout at Clint’s farm. I was wondering if you wanted to come with me.”
“Really? You’ll let me go?”
“I feel bad and I shouldn’t keep you away from your friends.”
“Is Bucky going to be there?”
Bucky nods and looks at you with mischievous eyes.
“Yeah.”
“Then I’ll go.”
“I invited you because Wanda and Thor will be there. They’re your friends.”
“I know.”
“Y/N…”
“It’s fine, Nat. I’ll hang with them.”
“Okay. We leave in an hour.”
She leaves the bathroom and you remove your hand from Bucky’s mouth knowing you didn’t need it to be there. He knows Natasha’s opinion of him and how she wouldn’t approve of you two dating. He just wanted to feel your hands on him if he’s being honest.
“Great, now I’m all wet. Look what you did.”
“I like it when you’re wet,” he smirks.
You shove his shoulder and scoff playfully but he grabs you and pulls you into him. He slides his hands into your hair and kisses you. He must forget the situation you’re in because you can feel his growing arousal on your stomach.
“No, Bucky, we should stop. I will not be tempted into shower sex again. Remember what happened last time?”
“Damn, my arm malfunctions one time and you’re triggered.”
“Can I trust you to keep your hands to yourself at this cookout?”
“No,” he chuckles. “It’s gonna be hard not to. Now I’m picturing you wet.”
“Hurry up and leave before she finds you in here. I’d rather not know what a fight between Black Widow and the Winter Soldier looks like.”
You slip out of the shower and back to your room without your sister noticing. While you’d like your relationship to be out in the open, sneaking around is just too much damn fun.
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daydreamerdrew · 1 year ago
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Captain America (2005) #31
#this is part of a series of visions that Bucky is shown to try to break him mentally#and unlike all of the following visions the mentality that Bucky has here#about how Captain America is his best friend#but that Bucky thinks Steve would have thought Bucky was a bully if he’d known him when he was younger#and that there’s this whole other darker side of him that Bucky is committed to never showing Steve#isn’t completely implausible#he explicitly rejects that he was jealous of all of the other Invaders for having powers#but he doesn’t address these negative feelings about himself in comparison to Steve#there was also this idea that Bucky was ‘barely human. a killer of men’ during WWII#which seems like it's retroactively projecting how Bucky feels now about his time as the Winter Soldier to what he did during WWII#so I think it's possible that the negative feelings about himself here could be legitimate#and it's possible that they're just retroactive projecting of his guilt over what he did as the Winter Soldier#throughout this book Bucky has been really negative about himself#in the preceding issue he had the thought that he should have seen a trap coming and so didn’t deserve to win a fight#there’s a recurring experience of him criticizing himself for the actions he takes while he’s taking those actions#and/or of afterwards questioning why he did something when he knew it was a bad idea#to the point where it almost comes across as foreshadowing that he's being subtly mind-controlled#and it gives the impression that Bucky is still learning how to be in control of his life at this point#I think it would be interesting if that self-deprecation was present during WWII#and was then really exacerbated by his time as the Winter Soldier#and I had previously thought that that was possible#in issue 25 Bucky talks about looking up to Steve during WWII and knowing that he could never be that good#and while the implications of that were not nearly as intense as this#I think that lends some support to this really being how Bucky felt during WWII#marvel#bucky barnes#steve rogers#my posts#comic panels
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deliciousangelfestival · 2 months ago
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The Imperfect Couple - 11
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Character: politician!Bucky x ex-wife!reader
Summary: A separated couple must pretend to be happily married while the husband runs for Vice President, dealing with old issues and political pressures during his election campaign.
Warning: The couple's arguments could be triggering.
Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 4 , Chapter 5 , Chapter 6 , Chapter 7 , Chapter 8 , Chapter 9 , Chapter 10 , Chapter 11 , Chapter 12 , Series Masterlist
Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi 🙏🏻
Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️
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As Bucky stood in front of you, his expression calm, like everything was normal, a surge of anger rose within you. After everything that had just happened—after he spilled details of your private life to the press—you couldn’t believe he had the audacity to act like it meant nothing.
"You thought that telling the press about our marriage would magically make everyone stay quiet? That we’d just be OK?" Your voice was sharp, cutting through the air like a blade. You watched as his jaw tightened, but he didn’t answer.
"And now… you’re still keeping secrets." You shook your head, frustration and disbelief coursing through you. "Now it’s about Steve."
Bucky's eyes flickered with something—guilt, maybe. He hesitated for a moment, then spoke coldly, "About that. I will bring it to my grave."
His words hit you harder than any blow could have. You stepped closer, heart pounding in your chest, barely able to control the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside. "Your grave? That’s your answer?"
You laughed bitterly, though there was no humor in it. "How dare you stand there and act like that’s acceptable? How dare you think you can keep doing this—lying, manipulating, keeping me in the dark—just because you think you’re protecting me?"
Bucky’s eyes narrowed, but he stayed silent. That silence only fueled your anger further.
"You think I don’t know what you’re doing? You’re so used to pulling the strings, making decisions behind everyone’s back, and pretending like it’s all for the greater good. But you’re not saving anyone, Bucky. Least of all me." Your voice cracked, and you hated yourself for it—hated how much you still cared, despite everything.
He opened his mouth, but you didn’t let him speak.
"You think after everything I’ve been through with your family, with Steve, that I don’t deserve the truth? That I’m just supposed to trust you after everything you’ve done to me? After you let them destroy me?" Your voice rose, the pain spilling out of you like a flood that had been held back for far too long.
"You didn’t protect me then, and you’re not protecting me now. You're protecting yourself. Because you're scared. You're scared that once I know the whole truth, I’ll finally be done with you."
Bucky’s face was set in stone, but you could see the cracks forming. His silence was loud, deafening, but you weren’t done. You weren’t letting him get away with it this time.
"You think I’m stupid enough to believe that this—whatever this is—is love? You control everything. You manipulate everything around you so that you never have to feel like you’re losing. But you are, Bucky." You stepped back, your chest rising and falling with the weight of everything you were saying. "You’re losing me. Every secret you keep, every lie you tell, you’re pushing me further away."
For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The room felt too small, the air too thick. Bucky’s fists clenched at his sides, but still, he didn’t say a word.
"I’m glad I never got pregnant," you whispered, voice shaking. "I’m glad I never brought a child into this—into your mess. Because no child deserves to grow up with a father like you."
That was the final blow, and you saw it hit him like a punch to the gut. His eyes darkened, and for the first time, Bucky seemed truly shaken. But even then, he said nothing.
The silence between you stretched, unbearable, suffocating. You turned away from him, the weight of your words still hanging in the air, and walked out. Neither of you said anything as you left the room, but you both knew that something had broken between you—something that might never be fixed.
🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸
As the door closed behind you, Bucky stood frozen, your words reverberating through his mind like the relentless echo of a nightmare. "I'm glad I never got pregnant."
That one sentence hit him harder than any punch he'd ever taken, harder than any bullet wound or battle scar. It was as if you had found the one part of him still vulnerable, still aching—the part he had tried so hard to protect—and you had driven a dagger straight into it.
The idea of building a family with you had always been his greatest hope, even if he had never said it out loud. He had pictured it in quiet moments, in the silence of the night when his thoughts wandered. A future with you—a family. The idea of you carrying his child, of starting something new and pure with you, had always been a flicker of light in the darkness that consumed him.
But now, that light was gone.
The bitterness of your words seeped into him, mixing with the sour taste of guilt that had been festering inside him for years. He clenched his fists, staring at the space where you had stood, feeling the weight of everything he had done—or failed to do—crushing down on him.
You’re losing me. Every secret you keep, every lie you tell, you’re pushing me further away.
He had never meant for it to be this way. He had convinced himself, again and again, that the lies, the manipulation, the control—it was all to protect you. To keep you safe from the chaos of his world. But in doing so, he had become the very thing that was destroying you. He was supposed to shield you, to be your safe haven, and yet here you were, crumbling before him because of his choices.
But you are, Bucky. You’re losing me.
The thought of losing you—of you walking away from him for good—was unbearable. He had always believed that no matter what happened, he could somehow fix things, that he could make you see that everything he did, he did out of love. But now, standing in the aftermath of your fury, he realized that he had underestimated just how deep the damage went.
The one dream that had kept him grounded—the thought of a family, a future with you—was now tainted. What was once a vision of hope and happiness now felt sour, like something spoiled and irreparable. The idea of a family with you, once so precious and sacred in his heart, now felt like a bitter reminder of all the ways he had failed you.
And the worst part? He knew it was his fault. He had driven you to this point, pushed you to the edge with his secrets and his selfishness. He had always told himself he was doing it for you, but now he saw the truth: it had been for him. He was terrified of losing control, terrified of losing you, and in trying to hold on too tightly, he had begun to suffocate the very thing he cherished most.
Bucky swallowed hard, the taste of regret sharp on his tongue. He had always been good at compartmentalizing his feelings, at shoving his pain deep down where it couldn’t touch him. But not this time. This time, there was no escaping the ache. The words you had thrown at him had hit their mark with deadly precision, and there was no denying the truth in them.
His Achilles' heel—his desire to build a family with you, to have a life with you—was now the source of his deepest pain. And as much as he wanted to believe he could fix it, that he could win you back, a cold, bitter part of him knew that it might be too late.
For the first time, Bucky felt something he hadn’t in a long time: true helplessness. The kind that gnawed at his chest, leaving a hollow ache behind.
🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸
After the heated argument with Bucky, you retreated to your room, feeling the weight of the conversation bearing down on you. The tension between you two was suffocating, and you needed to escape—if only for a moment. Grabbing your phone, you called Greg.
“Is there an activity that doesn’t involve me being around Bucky?” you asked, your voice strained.
“After the recent debate, the two of you don’t have many joint schedules. You can pretty much do whatever you want,” Greg replied.
You sighed, staring at the ceiling. “What am I going to do?” you murmured to yourself, feeling utterly lost. Just then, your phone buzzed with a text from Hazel: ‘Can you babysit Nate for a while?’
A smile tugged at your lips, the tension momentarily lifting. Babysitting Nate felt like the perfect distraction. You quickly typed back: ‘Yes.’
An idea struck you. You decided to pick him up from school yourself, giving you something to occupy your mind. Arriving at the prestigious Catholic school, you were struck by its grandeur—stately brick buildings, perfectly manicured lawns, and an imposing church at the center of the campus. You shouldn’t have been surprised; of course, Nate would attend a place like this, surrounded by privilege and tradition.
As you walked through the campus, the sound of bells ringing faintly in the background, your eyes fell on the old church. Its large wooden doors stood open, inviting anyone seeking solace. You hadn’t set foot inside a church in years, and now, as you watched parents filtering in to pray, something stirred within you.
Your gaze shifted to a woman who emerged from a confessional booth, her face serene. She’d just finished her confession, and for some reason, that simple act gripped you. A sudden, overwhelming urge came over you.
Before you knew it, you were standing inside the dimly lit church, walking down the aisle toward the confessional. You hesitated for a moment, staring at the closed wooden door of the confessional booth, your heart pounding in your chest. Then, with a deep breath, you stepped inside and knelt down.
“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned,” you began, your voice shaky. “It’s been five years since my last confession.”
The priest’s gentle voice echoed through the screen. “Go on, child.”
You took a breath, gathering your thoughts. “I don’t even know where to start. The first thing I need to confess is what my ex-husband—no, my husband—has done to me. All this time, I thought I was free. I thought I’d divorced him, that I was my own person again. But it turns out he never finalized the papers. For five years, I’ve believed I was single. And now… now I find out I’m still married to him.” A bitter laugh escaped your lips. “Isn’t that just the cruelest joke?”
You could hear the priest listening in silence, giving you space to speak.
“The worst part is, he lied to me. He kept this truth from me for years, letting me live in ignorance. I feel like such a fool. And now… he’s forced me into this agreement. A contract, of sorts. One year, he says. One year, and then we’ll officially be divorced. I can’t forgive him for this, for manipulating me into this situation.”
Your hands balled into fists as you spoke, your voice trembling. “He’s changed. I don’t like it. He used to be someone I trusted, but now he’s nothing but a man pulling strings behind the scenes, controlling everything.”
The anger surged through you, but beneath it, something else was there—something you didn’t want to acknowledge.
“I hate myself for agreeing to help him, for pretending like everything’s fine when it’s not. I’m exhausted from lying to myself, from keeping up appearances just to spite his mother. And what’s worse… I still care about him. After everything he’s done, part of me still cares.”
The priest’s voice was calm, gentle. “Child, do you want to quit? To walk away from this?”
You sat there in silence for a moment, your heart heavy with indecision. “No,” you finally whispered, the word almost surprising you. “No, I don’t.”
A bitter laugh escaped your lips again. “It’s funny, Father. I’ve always had this strong instinct to run. Whenever I’ve felt like I needed to get out, to escape a situation, that instinct has never failed me. But now? Now I don’t understand. I could've run. I could've leave him, but…”
The priest’s voice cut through your rambling thoughts. “What feelings do you have now?”
You swallowed hard, the word slipping out before you could stop it. “Stay.”
The silence in the booth seemed to echo that single word. You could feel tears prickling at your eyes, the conflict inside you tearing you apart. “I don’t understand it. Every night, when I’m alone, I think about leaving him, and yet, something inside me tells me to stay. I don’t know why.”
The priest spoke softly, a sense of wisdom in his words. “There is a reason for everything, child. But the answer may not be clear to you yet. You must trust in God’s timing.”
“God’s timing,” you repeated, the words feeling foreign in your mouth.
“It’s no coincidence that you are here today,” the priest continued. “There is a purpose to everything, even when we cannot see it clearly. Trust that God is working in your life, even through your confusion and pain.”
“A purpose?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’m not sure I understand.”
“Sometimes, we are placed in situations not for our own understanding, but to fulfill a greater plan. The burdens you carry now may reveal a deeper truth in time.”
You nodded, feeling a strange sense of calm wash over you, even as the conflict within you remained.
The priest offered a simple prayer for guidance and peace, his voice soft and steady.
You whispered, “Amen,” making the sign of the cross as tears silently streamed down your face.
🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸
After confessing, you stepped out of the confessional booth, feeling an unexpected lightness in your shoulders, as though the weight you'd been carrying for years had been lifted, if only for a moment. A faint smile touched your lips, the tension easing. Then, you heard the bell ring—its echo followed by the excited chatter of children ready to go home.
You waited near the entrance, looking out for Nate, but as minutes passed, he still hadn’t appeared. A sense of worry started to creep in. You scanned the crowd of children, but there was no sign of him. Your footsteps quickened as you walked around, the knot in your stomach tightening.
Then, you heard it—a familiar giggle. You followed the sound and froze. Nate was hanging in midair, swinging by his arms as two tall boys, older than him, held him up at the playground.
And then you saw him. Steve Rogers.
You blinked in disbelief, dumbfounded. What is he doing here?
The two boys—tall, blonde, and strikingly familiar—were clearly the Rogers twins, Steve’s sons. Both carried a mix of Steve and Peggy's features, but Steve's strong genes dominated; their blonde hair and sharp jawlines were unmistakably his.
An unsettled feeling stirred in your chest. There was something about those twins that always made you uneasy, though you couldn't quite pinpoint why. And what were high school boys doing, playing with a first-year elementary kid?
“Aunty!” Nate’s cheerful voice snapped you out of your thoughts. He had noticed you before you could even call out to him. He wriggled free from the boys and sprinted toward you, his small arms reaching out.
Your heart swelled as he hugged you tightly. Compared to the rest of the Barnes family, being with Nate always felt like a breath of fresh air.
“I missed you,” Nate said, his face beaming up at you.
How could your heart not melt at that?
Before you could respond, the Rogers twins greeted you politely, “Hello, Mrs. Barnes.”
You smiled at them, though unease lingered. “Hi, William. Hi, Charles.”
“You still remember us?” William asked, his voice surprisingly mature.
“Of course. And both of you are so kind, playing with Nate,” you replied, though your eyes remained cautious.
“Well, our families are close partners,” Charles added, patting Nate gently on the head. “And our dad told us to be good role models for this champ.”
“Hehe,” Nate giggled, not fully understanding but clearly enjoying being called a champion.
“See you, buddy,” the twins said in unison, giving Nate a fist bump before heading toward their car.
Then Steve approached you, his expression a mix of surprise and something else, as if he hadn’t expected to see you here.
“Hey,” he greeted, his voice calm but with a hint of hesitation.
“Hey,” you replied, crossing your arms instinctively, keeping a certain distance.
Steve glanced at you and then down at Nate, who was busy looking through his backpack. “How are things with you and Bucky?”
Your lips curled into a wry smile. “Sinking ship.”
Steve raised an eyebrow. “Titanic?”
Before you could respond, Nate, ever the sharp listener, jumped in. “Titanic?” he repeated, drawing a laugh from Steve.
"He's a ray of sunshine." Steve chuckled softly and patted Nate’s head in that gentle, fatherly way that almost made you pause. It seemed that in your absence, Steve had grown closer to Nate, filling in a role you hadn’t even realized was vacant.
🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸
As you sat in the car with Nate, the bond between you felt like a warmth you hadn’t experienced in a long time. Nate chatted excitedly beside you, his small hands gesturing animatedly as he talked about how happy he was to stay with you.
“Aunty, I missed you so much! It’s been forever,” he said, his smile infectious. “And guess what? I get to stay with Uncle Bucky too!”
Your heart ached a little at the mention of Bucky, but Nate’s joy overrode it, at least for the moment.
“Yeah?” you replied, brushing a hand through Nate’s hair. “That sounds fun.”
Nate nodded eagerly, and then you remembered the twins. “So, those boys—William and Charles—how do you know them?”
“Oh! I met them on my birthday,” Nate said with excitement. “They and Uncle Steve gave me huge presents. It was so cool!”
“Wow, that’s amazing,” you said, trying to match his enthusiasm.
“Yeah, since then, I’ve had two big brothers,” Nate added with a proud grin. “I always wanted a big brother—or a little brother—or even a little sister,” he said, his tone wistful. “I asked Mom, but she said no.”
He sighed, and you chuckled softly. The memory of meeting Hazel while she was pregnant came to mind. Back then, no one knew who Nate’s father was. Hazel had always kept her lips sealed, refusing to speak about it.
You recalled the heated arguments between Hazel and Caroline. Once, you overheard Hazel snapping, “I already continued the bloodline. I’ve done my duty. I don’t want to get married. Period.”
You had admired her strength, but it also made you realize just how complicated everything had become.
Thinking back, you realized you had never heard of Hazel being in a relationship. With her status and career, she could have any man she wanted. But why was she so close with the Rogers family? What made Steve and the twins come to play with Nate after school?
A curious thought crossed your mind. Could Steve and Hazel have… No, you shook your head, dispelling that notion. It was impossible.
But the curiosity clawed at you. You turned to Nate, your brow furrowed. “Do Uncle Steve and the twins always play with you?”
Nate nodded enthusiastically. “Yes! Uncle Steve stood beside me when the doctor injected me,” he said, lifting his sleeve to show you the sore spot on his arm. “Ouchie!”
You chuckled, leaning over to blow gently on the spot, making him giggle. The sound was infectious, yet it tugged at something deeper within you, a swell of guilt rising as you wished you had kept your curiosity in check. Your instincts were telling you something else entirely.
No matter how close family friends could be, it seemed unlikely that someone like Steve would take the time to accompany Nate for his vaccination. Unless…
Nate's eyes sparkled with excitement as he leaned closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “Oh, and he bought me ice cream and pizza! This is a secret, Aunty.” He glanced around, making sure no one was eavesdropping, his expression filled with mischief.
You chuckled, unable to resist his infectious enthusiasm. “That sounds cool!”
Nate nodded vigorously, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet. “And the big brothers always ask me to watch them play basketball. They’re so cool!” He raised his arms, mimicking a jump shot, his little face lighting up with joy.
You smiled, “Sounds like a blast.”
“My favorite part is after the game,” he continued, his eyes wide with memory. “We always watch movies and eat caramel popcorn. It’s delicious!” He rubbed his belly dramatically, as if savoring the taste all over again.
“Does Uncle Steve also join in watching movies?” you asked, raising an eyebrow, hoping your instincts were wrong. Your heart raced slightly, and you felt a knot tightening in your stomach at the thought.
“Yes!” Nate replied, his enthusiasm unabated. He practically bounced with joy, his small fists clenched as he hopped in place.
You sighed, feeling a frustration bubbling up. Gosh, you hated your overactive imagination and your inability to suppress your investigative instincts.
🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸
When you arrived home, Bucky was already there. As you stepped inside, he stood up, his expression shifting from surprise to something softer at the sight of you. But before he could speak, Nate rushed forward and hugged him tightly, the excitement radiating off the little boy.
“Uncle Bucky!” Nate exclaimed, squeezing him. Bucky’s face lit up with genuine happiness, and he leaned down, pressing a kiss to Nate's head.
“Hey there, champ,” Bucky replied, his voice warm and inviting.
“I have to wash my hands and feet first!” Nate announced, darting off toward the bathroom.
With Nate out of the room, the atmosphere shifted, leaving you and Bucky alone. An awkward tension settled between you, thick enough to cut with a knife. Bucky rubbed the back of his neck, the motion betraying his unease.
“Uhm…” he began, searching for words, his gaze flicking away as if he were weighing his options.
Before he could finish his thought, you interrupted, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. “What made you want to support a liar like Steve?”
His eyes widened, surprise mingling with a flicker of something else—was it defensiveness? Confusion? The air crackled with unspoken questions, and you felt the tension deepen, a mystery hanging between you, waiting to be unraveled.
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