#bucky barnes always had and always will love and support Steve Rogers

[jaggedamethyst]

not in that way (part one)

bucky barnes x fwb!reader

content: steve rogers is your best friend, which means that inherently bucky should be yours too. somewhere along the way, it became more than that for you. for bucky, it's just tolerance. he likes you, but not like that. not in that way.

warnings: 18+ minors dni, smut, protected sex (yeah wrap that up), rough, choking, fwb, mean bucky, mutual pining, not proofread

notes: thank you guys for the support on the snippet as well as for waiting for me as i got this done! i just finished finals so i plan on locking in on this one and circuit breaker bc i cannot stop thinking about them.

ps. i swear bucky and reader are friends, just had to hit the angst and give some background but there will be cute moments along with smut probably every chapter...I'm hoeing out.

series master list

。·:*:·ﾟ★,。·:*:·ﾟ☆　 。·:*:·ﾟ★,。·:*:·ﾟ☆

“Steve?” You called out to him, steps pounding behind you as you hurriedly moved toward his pinged location. “Steve, oh my god.” Your voice trailed off, shock evident. 

People brushed by you and pushed toward Steve’s figure on the ground. You’d never seen him like this. Sure, Steve Rogers was a super soldier and the most physically strong man you knew—but this was different. Mentally, he seemed destroyed. 

He called your phone, short of breath and muttering for help. It immediately sent you into action. You were normal—the most civilian anyone could be. There was no other option but to call someone, plead with them to find and help your friend. He’d been washed up on the shore, lying in the dirt and clearly out of it. 

You watched him get worked on, staring into the distance. 

“What happened?” You kneeled next to him,  “Who did this?” 

Steve turned to you, eyes glossed over in disbelief. “Bucky.” He shook his head, “It was Bucky.” He kept repeating it to himself, attempting to convince his own mind that it was true. “It was him. It was Bucky. He was here.” 

“I don’t understand,” you grasped his shoulder. “I thought he was gone—you saw.” You gulped, searching his face for any hesitance. “You said he fell, that he-“

“It was him.” 

“Okay.” You nodded, “Okay, I believe you. He was here.” 

It was true. The man you’d heard so many stories about had returned. He wasn’t like the anecdotes Steve recalled; this Bucky was darker, more quiet, resigned. 

He was an observer. You often caught him staring at you, eyes lingering between your figure and Steve’s. Bucky would always stand, tucked into a corner. He didn’t feel deserving of the warmth Steve offered—the humanity that remained present in you. There were times, then, that you would offer a welcoming hand. A slight wave of motion offered him a seat, acknowledging that he did deserve to be there. He felt human with you. 

That’s what initially drew Bucky to you and inevitably why you became friends, too. There was a way that you loved everyone, insisted on not leaving them out and nourished their insides. 

The hurt came when he realized it would never be that way for him.

You could never love him, not a monster. Not when the shining emblem of a perfect man sat beside you every day. Steve had so much time with you—he was your best friend. Bucky couldn’t replace him, not if he tried. So he always kept you at arms length, hoping to be more than friends but settling for something less. 

The first time it happened, when Bucky had been so lucky to have a moment with you—he swore that he was dreaming. He never gave you a reason to like him, in fact, it was the opposite. He’d gone out of his way every day to push you further from him, make it known that he’d never be as good as Steve. 

He could tell you saw something different; he hated it. 

The three of you had tried small talk often, Steve facilitating some sort of discussion to break the ice. It almost always ended with you and Bucky exactly where you started, friends who were forced to be so because of a mutual one.

“Well, I’m headed out—you two should talk.”

“Steve, no-“ 

“Buck, you two are my favorite people in the world. I would love it if you gave this a chance.” Steve patted his friend’s shoulder, “For me. Please.” 

Bucky turned to look at Steve, a solid expression on his face. He didn’t speak, just gave him a small nod and let Steve step around him and out of your place. 

It was common that Steve would find solace in your home. It was far from the city, neatly tucked away in a residential area. There was a sense of normalcy and he was proud to introduce that to Bucky—he needed that, deserved it after everything. 

The room was silent, violently so. You sat across from Bucky—him lingering in your peripheral, and you nestled softly into your couch. He didn’t move, standing still near a wall that offered him the sight of every possible window and exit. 

“Do you wanna sit?” 

You watched his body for any reaction, dissatisfied when there was none. It was awkward, him avoiding eye contact and you not sure of what else to say. 

You sighed. “I’ll be back.” You announced your departure, not that it mattered to him. 

You beeline to the bathroom, desperately needing to escape him. He was always like this, closed off and so obviously annoyed by your presence. Splashing your face with water did little to temper you, and your body seemed to overheat at the thought of having to see him again. 

You didn’t let yourself think—couldn’t. You stepped out and kept your head down before looking toward Bucky’s signature spot on the wall. He wasn’t there. 

You tilted your head down, seeing Bucky now sitting on the couch, two cushions away from where you’d been prior. He watched you smile softly, moving to sit in your spot.

Bucky made a habit of keeping his hands in his lap. He would sit stoically at all times. It was the same now. 

He avoided eye contact but muttered, “Hi.” 

Your breath hitched, surprised he’d started a conversation. Keeping your tone even so as not to overwhelm him, you replied, “Hi, Bucky.” 

The both of you nodded, letting the weight of your forced proximity surround you. As much as he tried, he couldn’t ignore you. The faint smell of your hair products, the way you tapped your own leg rhythmically, how nervous you were—he noticed it all. 

“Do you, um,” you swallowed. “Do you want something to drink, maybe?” 

It’d been over a year since Bucky had shown up. You, of course, shared small talk with him in that time. He’d grown to know the story of you and Steve—how you met. It would suffice to say that Bucky grew to be an acquaintance of yours—a long lost friend of a friend…one that would never truly like you. Accepting that was hard; you wanted Bucky to be comfortable at the very least. If not like you, he would at bare minimum be able to sit down for once. 

So today was a win. 

Bucky didn’t reply to your question but instead asked his own, “How was Steve? Without me, I mean?” 

His voice was gruff, and you hadn’t expected that question, let alone more than a single syllable from him. 

“Well,” you readjusted to face Bucky, “He’s always the most positive guy in the room—which I’m sure you know.”

Bucky let a smirk slip, recounting the optimism his friend had at all times. 

“He’s better than me that way, than a lot of us.” 

“I don’t think that’s true. He’s just Steve, you know that.” 

He didn’t know that. Bucky was living in his body but observing from outside his own mind. He was witnessing his friend after so much time had escaped him. Everything he thought was true wasn’t anymore. 

He wanted to get to know you, offer you the same grace that was given to him. But he couldn’t. Before it even begun, Bucky was overwhelmed. He pushed himself to be kinder, to do this for Steve. It was simply futile. 

He stood suddenly and looked down at you. “I should go.” 

“Okay,” you stood, nodding. “I guess I’ll be seeing you.” 

He hummed, rolling his shoulders back and tightening his posture again. He didn’t respond. 

“I’ll tell Steve you tried today,” you whispered to him. “I know he’ll appreciate it. I do.” 

The tension was palpable. Your eyes stayed locked on each other until you heard a sound and looked down. The mechanical whirring of his metal arm was clear, only slightly suppressed by the gloves he always wore. He watched you noticing his hand twitch as if he wanted to move it. There was a restraint there, like he was pushing down something that was second nature. As if he meant to do something that he’d always done. 

You swallowed hard enough to hear it in your ears. Looking at Bucky, you arched your brow in a subtle defiance—daring him to do what he intended. You wanted to know him and his habits, to understand even a modicum of what was in his brain. 

Without thinking a second more, he let his left arm lift a bit. He reached toward your face but paused at you flinching, leaning away from him. 

Just barely audible, you spoke, “Sorry.” 

Bucky blinked and furrowed his brows, unable to stop himself. He let his fingers wrap around your face, a single hand pressing just under your chin and at the top of your throat. Slightly wide eyed, you watched him watching you. Most of his hand rested on your cheek, his thumb pressing into the other side of your face. 

Despite no longer being the Winter Soldier, his habits lingered. When in that state he remembered being like this so vividly—a hand around someone’s throat and crushing the life out of them. He hissed at the thought, not at all intending for that with you. He craned your head, though, observing the quizzical look on your face. 

It didn’t make sense to him, the need to maintain this routine. But he did. Beyond the haze of what was once his signature way of taking life—he saw a new one. Bucky could envision his future so clearly, yet he couldn’t let himself have it. 

He went to drop his hand but stopped at the feeling of yours on his wrist. It was inexplicable. Glove or not, you craved the contact from him. 

The room stayed silent except for the slight creak of the floorboards beneath you. While Bucky stayed steady, you teetered on the balls of your feet—this moment feeling fleeting. 

He inched forward, watching your eyes fall closed. 

Your lips were right there, the ones he’d openly been ogling at for months. It was torture, but all he knew. He couldn't allow himself the satisfaction of the feeling. He wasn’t deserving. 

Instead, he latched onto your neck. Bucky kissed and nibbled there with an urgency you hadn’t expected—hell, you didn’t even think today would’ve progressed to this at all. 

The feeling of him on you was intoxicating, and it was so minuscule. His hands were all over you, and yours on him. Your breath came out ragged, “We shouldn’t.” 

“You’re right.” He paused on your neck briefly, directly in your ear now. “We shouldn’t.” 

“We’re friends.” You nodded, letting your hands trail up his back and into his hair. 

“Are we?”

You weren’t sure. It was complicated. You couldn’t let yourself think about that now and neither could he. 

He pushed you down onto the couch and stood above you, allowing you to finally look him over. He was casually in jeans and a t-shirt, the rest of his body entirely covered. The only skin that showed besides his face was just below at his neck. Around it lay his dog tags, which he was so adamant about wearing. The glint of them always caught your eye and alerted you of his presence. Even when he showed up silent, you’d see him and those damn tags. Just always out of your eyeline but in the room—that was who Bucky had always been. In his stoicism, he was still consistently there.

Watching Bucky undo his pants already had you eager for him, too. There was always something there for you, an intrigue simply at the way he carried himself. You stayed seated, leaning back a bit in an attempt to slide down your sweatpants. Both of you watched the other discarding the bottom half of their clothes with little thought, tossing them aside. 

He leaned, then, ruffling into his dark jacket’s interior. 

“I got it,” he mumbled, ripping into the condom wrapper with his teeth. He slid the latex over himself just before pushing the jacket off his back. 

He kneeled into the couch, the angle awkward but enough that he was able to slide into you like he wanted. It was tight—rough. You expected the burn but still sucked in a breath at it, the lack of prep. Bucky didn’t mean to make it this way but just wanted it to be over—the insatiable need to pump in and out of you. Only you.

Slowly and deliberately, he continued to kiss around your neck, collarbone, and ears. He snapped into you, purposely moving at a speed that allowed him to chase a high rather than savor the moment with you. He wanted to, truly…to acknowledge the way you looked up at him. It was his dream to let the sounds of you falling apart actually hit his ears and mean something, but he couldn’t. 

The couch creaked and rocked. You were now slightly bent into the back of the cushions, your chest moving up and down alongside Bucky’s. He pulled back, stabilizing himself behind you. The new angle allowed you to see his dog tags again, them hitting you with every movement into you. Without thinking, you grabbed them, hooking them under one of your fingers. 

He finally allowed himself some relief, his voice dragging out the moans he’d himself been holding in. “Fuck...” 

You watched him intently, pulling him closer by the chain on his neck. He shifted his angle a bit at that and watched your jaw drop open. Your brows furrowed, whines choking out of you at the new sensation. It made you let go of his tags, grasping at the fabric of his shirt. This made him pound into you faster—realizing a tether of intimacy was gone. 

He was subconsciously glad for that, happy that he could pinpoint and force that sweet look in your eyes away. There was no longer an adoration in your gaze but simply one of pleasure. This was for the best. He could appreciate you from a distance despite the line of friendship being crossed so carelessly now. 

“Shit,” you groaned out suddenly. “Buck-“ 

He hushed you softly, quelling the harsh sound in your throat. It only spurred him on, though, truly ruthless about this. He only slowed at the feeling of your fingers gliding over his face, pushing the stray piece of hair out of view. His pace stuttered, faltering as he really looked at you. 

A second later, he started in on you again. A clothed hand found its way into your shirt and pinched at your nipples. His grip was rough, kneading your chest. You were already so close; every additional sensation only pushed you further.

You met him suddenly, writhing into him and filling the living room with lewd slapping sounds. 

Bucky huffed breaths out at every push into you. You fought a squeak, pressing your own hand over your mouth. You gnawed at it as it allowed some relief from the burning inside of you. He was hitting that same spongey spot over and over. He was so good at picking up on the subtle changes in your face and body. 

Without warning he slipped out and nudged you, “Turn.” 

You did without questioning, a firm covered hand rubbing at the skin of your hips. Regardless of his gloves, you felt the difference in his hands—the slight shift of metal in one versus the pulse in the other. There was a contrast you enjoyed, a chill about his metal arm that grounded you. 

A knee pushed your legs open as he slid into you again, this time using you as leverage. Bucky pushed you down slowly, the side of your head finding the cushion. This angle was new, deeper. It wouldn’t be much longer at this point and he could tell. One hand slipped underneath you and up to your neck again, squeezing just enough for you to appreciate the loss of breath. In between gasps you nudged further into the couch, the sensation becoming too much for you. 

He couldn’t stop when you came, relishing the way your insides continued to pulse. It was as if he was meant to stay; his one true purpose was to be completely enveloped by you. When he finished a strained sound choked in his throat, one that you hadn’t expected. 

You were throbbing still, a cold feeling finally making you realize he pulled away. The feeling of him on you had gone away so quick. The sound of a different metal clanked—his belt buckle bouncing around as he slid his pants back on. 

“Should we…should I tell Steve about this?” 

Your question was sudden but was filled with a weight that scared him. You didn’t want to be too forward—but it was only right. Steve was now caught in the middle of something complicated. Even if this was the first and only time…you weren’t sure you could keep this from him. 

Bucky thought differently. 

“Why would you wanna tell Steve?” 

“Because it’s-“ 

“Leave him out of this.”  

Bucky readjusted his clothes, smoothing them over as they’d been before. You watched him inch his way to the door—his back toward you. 

You ignored the pang in your chest, the confusion that now resonated in you. Pushing it away, you settled on changing the subject. “Steve wanted to do something tomorrow, you coming?” 

He didn’t turn as he grabbed the doorknob, merely craned his head to the side. You watched his profile for any sense of something, but again, he was so unreadable for you. 

“I’ll be there.” 

Then he left. 

part two

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[leihaddock]

Let's imagine Steve and Bucky who were well established in their local queer community. Because they lived in one of the few underground queer cities at the time, and it seems damn near impossible that they *wouldn't* know other queer people

Actually, for that, we probably should talk about Sarah first:

as a nurse she saw it as her duty to help anyone and everyone, no question asked and no matter where they come from, and soon developed a reputation for just that

so she had all sorts of people come to her for help

including queer folks in gender and/or sexuality, what we'd nowadays call drag queens and kings, disabled folks, people of colour, jews and so on

little Stevie grows up around a very diverse group of people

when he was only a couple of years old, he asked Sarah ie why that woman had a beard, and she'd explained to him that there are all kinds of people and there was nothing wrong with being "transsexual" or with men liking other men or women liking other women

and that if he ever found out he was like them, she wouldn't care and love him all the same

and that was one of the lessons that stayed with him, along with always getting back up, always protecting those in need of protection, and later from his own experiences, that he didn't like bullies

the community Sarah builds around herself ends up protecting Steve more than once, no matter how much he hates accepting help

So at some point Steve and Bucky meet and befriend each other and become inseparable. And of course the older they get the more people talk. That they're too close, that that sickly Rogers boy is a fairy (or that he's a waste of oxygen and should be dead, let alone ever reproduce), that there are so many pretty girls for Bucky to choose from. You get the idea

Sarah of course figures out they're dating pretty much immediately. she knows her son, she loves Bucky like her own like she knows the Barnes family does in turn for Steve

To me the Barnes family is supportive but it took them some time because they're the "ideal" middle class family and their oldest son being a fairy wasn't quite ideal but they love Steve and Bucky too much to give a rat's ass about it later on

and with all the people Steve grew up knowing and introduced Bucky to, they have plenty of friends, even if they'd choose each other over the world on any given day

society as a whole wasn't kind to them, would never be kind to them, they knew as much, but they weren't alone

sapphic couples to go on double dates with as a cover (though Bucky goes out of his way to find more women to date as a cover, lest people ask too many questions)

underground bars to meet at, in the "bad" parts of town, to drink and kiss and be a normal couple for once

meet artists of all flavours, punks (our modern definition, relative to the time), go to protests and rallies for women's rights and workers' rights

Bucky meets other jewish queer folks, too, to his delight

they run from cops more than once

lose more than one friend in that time too, who got found out and sent to "conversion therapy" at best, but more than once was found beaten to a pulp in the street

Sarah passes away and Steve is distraught, but he's not alone in mourning, her funeral has so so many of the people she'd helped in her life, and there's some solace in that, despite feeling more alone than ever

Bucky moves in with him and they get those few happy years with a lot of the same they'd done since becoming a couple, before the war comes

not only is Steve upset he can't join the war effort, he's now seeing his friends joining, getting drafted, or denied for the same reasons he is. queer women join en mass and he knows he'd find his people there too, but they just won't let him

then Bucky gets drafted and TFA plays (mostly) as we know it

their friends freak the fuck out when Steve's suddenly gone, then shows up as "Captain America"

some of the chorus girls pick up on Steve being queer, and suddenly the whole group feels a lot more comfortable around him, and he actually ends up enjoying their company a lot

the Howlies don't care, Howard doesn't care, Peggy is a Nazi so her view doesn't matter, no one really does, and they get to be pretty open about their relationship, with everyone covering for them

Bucky falls

the Barnes family gets a letter on what happened to Bucky, from Steve, and suddenly they know that they'll lose both their sons/brothers in that war, because there's no Steve without Bucky and no Bucky without Steve

they've always known it would end like that, but just like Steve, they'd never expected Bucky to be the one to die first

Steve puts the plane down

When he's confirmed alive in the 21st century, not only do the families of the Howlies reach out to him, who'd spread far by then

not only the Barnes family, Bucky's niblings and, hell, grand niblings (who all also insist on calling Steve their uncle, because that's who he is to them, and Steve cries at that)

but also all the children and grandchildren of the community he and Bucky had been part of

that had seen so much loss, he gets told, in the 80s and 90s, and before that, but still stands strong as ever and he's welcomed back with open arms

because those people, too, were his family

he's also told how after his death, some asshole wanted to discredit him for being queer, and all the people he'd ever known jumped to help him

his and Bucky's relationship was their families' best kept secret

that loss still weighs heavy on him, so he doesn't have the energy for pride, but there's something about queer rights having advanced enough that people like him can get married, that fills him with both overwhelming joy and longing

then Bucky is alive, and after everything is said and done, they come out to the world and get married, for real, not the fake wedding their community had thrown for them, or the one the Howlies did

and the rest is history

[brunchable]

LAZARUS SERUM || Steve Rogers x F!Reader

Part I

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

× × × × 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

× × × × 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

× × × ×

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The heck was that about?

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

“Steve… is that really you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

× × × ×

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

“Yes. Steve Rogers?”

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

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

“Can I offer you any refreshments?” 

“Not at the moment.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Please, Steve. Just go.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

× × × ×

DAY ONE

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

DAY TWO

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

DAY EIGHTY

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

Eighty days.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sit up,” he commanded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

DAY 100

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

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

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

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

"But sir, she won't survive—"

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

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

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

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

“Dispose of the body.”

× × × ×

D - 100

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But they didn’t stand a chance.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You vowed never to let anyone discard you again.

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.

.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Help? No one helped. 

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

“But, Y/N—”

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

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

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

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

× × × × 

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

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

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

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

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

[buckys-little-belle]

i have a fluffy drabble idea: steve or bucky (because they have super strength) using a throw blanket to sawddle wrap you to secure you to their chest. and then they carry you around while they do their tasks. and then you're lulled to sleep by their heartbeat and gentle voice explaining their paperwork to you

-🐝

Swaddle Snuggle

Steve Rogers x Little!Reader (They/Them Pronouns Used) / Bucky Barnes x Little!Reader (They/Them Pronouns Used)

Warnings - Talks of reader feeling "down"/sad and/or stressed, snuggles, use of "Dada"

Notes - I made these headcannons because I feel like they'd both be so different when it comes to swaddle snuggles, and I couldn't pick just one of them to write about! This ask is also so old, like over a year old, and I miss my bee anon, and I'm sorry I didn't get this out sooner! I hope y'all like it!

SFW - Please keep all interactions with this post, and this blog, SFW!!!

. ☆ . ☾ . ☆ . ☽ . ☆ . ☾ . ☆ . ☽ . ☆ .

Steve

Steve loves when you're snuggly and clingy. He always looks forward to the days where you can't be away from him for more than a second.

He used to just sit with you in his lap on the couch when you needed a close contact day, he'd do whatever work he could from his laptop, and he'd pick you up and carry you around the house when he had to get up.

But that wasn't very practical. He often had things during the day that required two hands, and you hated being put down.

So he adjusted, he found a light weight big blanket and created a swaddle sling. You sat with your legs around his waist like usual, chest to chest, with your hands trapped between the two of you. The blanket worked mainly as a bottom support keeping you in a sitting position against his chest, but it also went over your back, giving you extra warmth and allowing Steve to bend over when needed.

It made everything easier, you could stay snuggled against him and he could do computer work, or the laundry, or make lunch. He had two hands, and you had all the cuddles you needed.

If it was a cold day he would often lay a fuzzy blanket over your back when he sat down. He'd be sat in his office chair, you on his lap, and a fuzzy blanket keeping you warm from the open window's slight breeze.

To be fair he was a super solider ... So he ran warmer than most, and his body heat kept you quite warm.

Nap time was nice because instead of being on the second floor in your playroom, far away from you Dada, you could take a nap wherever he was.

The comfort of his hand rubbing slow circles against your back comforting you. And the constant pitter patter of his keyboard keys often lulled you to sleep.

Bucky

Bucky didn't wait for you to have needy days. He sometimes needed to have you in his arms all day to remind him that you were there, with him and needing him.

So he'd found a way to wrap you up, the same as Steve. You plastered to his chest as he went about his day.

He didn't work at a desk as often as Steve, so he often had you with him as he went on a walk around the property, finding cool stones and sticks to add to your collection. You'd be stuck close to him as he meal prepped for the week, him saying the recipes and directions out loud as soft instrumental music played.

That often lulled you to sleep. The soft swaying that happened as he walked around the kitchen, and his deep voice mixed with the soft music. It was easy to fall asleep that way.

Sometimes he'd have you sit in the wrap facing the other way, your back to his chest.

He'd have you that way as he worked on the cars, your hands able to hold onto wrenches or random objects to keep you engaged. Because he would pick random days to have you stuck to him you often were more hyper aware. Talking and babbling about things, grabbing for things with your hands.

But he still needed you so close, so you sat facing outwards. He liked the way he could snuggle you close at all times, but still hear your infectious laugh, and how he could make sure you didn't leave his sight, but you could also still play go fish with him.

Even though they were two very different ways to be swaddled you looked forward to both. Excited to be Steve's little Snuggle Bear or Bucky's little Sidekick.

[sosa2imagines]

Hi! I hope you are doing well! I was wondering if would do a short part 2 of Promises made, promises kept where Steve does in fact come back to be with Reader again, realizing his mistake, but finds out that Reader moved on from him and is completely heart broken.😈😏

Warnings- Fluff, angst. 2.2k words.

Disclaimer- Here's part 2 of Promises broken, Promises kept. Hope you like it.

Four years.

That's how long it had been since Steve Rogers decided to go back in time to live his life with Peggy Carter.

In those years, you had found a new normal with Bucky Barnes, a man who had stepped in and provided the stability you and your daughter needed. Your daughter adored Bucky and called him “Pa” without hesitation.

Bucky had been there from the beginning, supporting you through the pain of Steve's departure.

Slowly, an unexpected connection had grown between you and Bucky, a bond forged through shared experiences and a common goal of raising your daughter.

Bucky had become a fixture in your lives, fulfilling each promise he made.

He was there for every milestone, from your daughter's first steps to her first day of school. He comforted her when she was scared, dried her tears when she skinned her knee, and celebrated her triumphs with boundless pride.

On a chilly winter night, a faint cry pierced the silence. In an instant, Bucky was out of bed, his instincts on high alert. He rushed to your his daughter's room, where he found her tossing and turning, caught in the throes of a nightmare.

“Pa!” she cried out, reaching for Bucky with trembling fingers. He was there in an instant, wrapping her in a comforting embrace. “Shh, it's okay,” he murmured, his voice gentle yet filled with unwavering strength. “I'm here.”

Bucky scooped her up into his arms, rocking her softly as he settled into the rocking chair in the corner of the room. He cradled her close, murmuring hushed reassurances and stroking her hair until her sobs subsided.

As Bucky comforted her, your daughter's words came out between hiccups and sobs. “I had a dream... daddy came to take me away.” Confusion mixed with fear as her little voice quivered.

Bucky's heart clenched at her words. He tightened his hold on her as he tried to steady his voice, masking the whirlwind of emotions within him. “Don't worry, sweetheart. That was just a bad dream. You're safe here, with me.” he assured her, his voice soft yet firm.

Natalia's grip on Bucky tightened as she pleaded her fears, her tiny fingers clinging to his shirt. “Promise me you won't go,” she implored, her voice trembling with vulnerability. “Promise me you'll always be my Pa!”

Bucky's heart ached at her words, his resolve deepening. He gently took her little hands in his, holding them firmly against his chest. “I promise you, sweetheart,” he whispered, his voice filled with unwavering determination. “I will always be your father, no matter what.”

As your daughter's breathing steadied into a peaceful slumber, Bucky continued to hold her close, his gaze softening. In the quiet of the room, a silent promise echoed in his heart. He vowed to protect her with all his strength, to be the rock she could always rely on.

Life settled into a comfortable rhythm. Your connection with Bucky deepened, a bond forged through shared experiences and mutual trust.

Your daughter blossomed under his love and guidance, and you found solace in his unwavering support. Laughter echoed through the house, and joy filled the air as you built cherished memories together.

But one stormy evening, the knock on your door came unexpected, the sound cutting through the peaceful evening.

As you opened it, your heart skipped a beat. Steve Rogers stood there, a man you hadn't seen in years. The years had marked him, casting shadows on his rugged features. He looked older, more worn, yet unmistakably him.

“Steve...” you said, barely able to hide your surprise.

“I came back.” Steve announced, his voice cold and detached, a stark contrast to the warmth you once knew. It was as if time had frozen him mid-way between the person he was and who he had become. 

“Thought I'd check on what I left behind...” he continued, the words hanging in the air like a silent accusation.

Your daughter, who had been clinging to your leg, peered around your legs, her eyes wide with curiosity at the familiarly unfamiliar figure. “Mommy, who's that?” she asked innocently. 

Before you could respond, Bucky stood next to you, his protective instincts immediately on high alert. “Steve,” he said, a mix of surprise and tension in his voice, “what are you doing here?”

Steve's gaze hardened as he glared at Bucky, frustration and jealousy evident in his eyes. “I see you didn't waste any time moving on!” he accused, his voice laced with bitterness. 

You stepped forward, placing yourself between them, your heart beating wildly. “Steve, you made your choice...” you said firmly, your voice unwavering. “ You chose your life. We had no choice but to find our own path.”

Bucky's fists clenched at his sides, his gaze unwavering as he regarded Steve with a mix of caution and protectiveness. He wouldn't let the man who had hurt you and left you when you were pregnant, intrude on your newfound happiness without a fight.

Steve's gaze shifted to your daughter, a flicker of something indistinguishable crossing his face. “Does she even know who I am?” he asked, a cruel undertone lurking in his voice. 

Bucky, ever the rock in your tumultuous life, responded firmly, his voice unwavering. “She knows her family!” he retorted. “And that's all that matters.” His words echoed with years of selfless love and devotion.

Steve's eyes darkened at Bucky's response, his jaw tightening in frustration. The reality of his absence and the changes that had taken place in your lives seemed to dawn on him with a bitter clarity.

Steve's laugh was devoid of any warmth or mirth, a cold, bitter sound that sent a chill down your spine. “So, you think you can replace me, Barnes?” he taunted, his tone laced with scorn. “You think you can just waltz in and claim what's mine?”

Steve's jealousy and possessiveness were palpable, his gaze fixated on Bucky. It was as if he saw your family as property that he had discarded and now sought to reclaim.

Bucky's fists clenched at his sides, his eyes narrowing at Steve's words. He didn't back down, standing firm in his role as your protector and father figure to your daughter. “This isn't about replacing you!” he countered, his voice steady. “It's about being here for them when you weren't.”

Steve's face darkened at Bucky's candid response, his resentment growing. The reality of his absence and the pain it had caused seemed to hit him all at once, yet his stubborn pride prevented him from fully acknowledging his own shortcomings.

Steve, in a desperate attempt to connect with his estranged daughter, approached her with a forced air of familiarity. “Hey princess...” he started, the pet name sounding hollow in his mouth, “I'm your father, your real father.”

The words hung in the air, heavy with implications and laced with a mix of guilt and longing. Your daughter, innocent and oblivious to the complex emotions at play, looked up at Steve with wide, unsuspecting eyes.

Relief washed over you as you recalled the conversation you had with your daughter not too long ago. Back then, knowing that Steve's return was a possibility, you had decided to tell her the truth about her father.

However, your daughter had taken that information and formed her own steadfast conviction: Bucky was her father.

Natalia, her small frame trembling slightly, clung to Bucky, her tiny hands holding onto him with unwavering determination. She peered out from behind him, her eyes locking onto Steve. “No!” she proclaimed with a defiant pout. “This is my Pa.”

Bucky's heart swelled with gratitude and pride as he felt Natalia cling to him, her tiny hands holding onto him with childlike determination. He gently placed his own hand over hers, a silent promise to shield her from any harm, whether it came from Steve or anyone else.

Steve, his ego bruised and his emotions in turmoil, couldn't hide the anger that surged through him. His face twisted with frustration, and his voice laced with a mix of bitterness and entitlement, he snapped, “She's my daughter! I have a right to see her.”

Before you or Bucky could respond, Steve's attention turned to your daughter again. His voice was laced with a possessiveness that sent a chill down your spine. “I'm your father!” he yelled, his tone filled with a mix of desperation and frustration. “Not him!”

Natalia, young and innocent, jumped in fright at his raised voice, her small frame trembling with fear.

Bucky, his protective instincts on high alert, wouldn't stand for anyone, not even Steve, scaring his daughter. Seeing Natalia tremble with fear, he instinctively stepped forward, shielding her from Steve's tumultuous presence.

Bucky's stance was unwavering, his body tensed and ready to protect Natalia at all costs. His loyalty to her and her well-being outshone any lingering attachment he might have had to Steve. In that moment, it was clear that nothing was more important to him than keeping her safe and shielded from harm.

Your voice, filled with unwavering conviction, cut through the tension. “Steve,” you said, your tone firm yet laced with a mix of hurt and anger, “enough. You left. You chose differently. You don't get to barge back into our lives and question the choices we had to make to move forward. Bucky has been here, through thick and thin, supporting us, loving us. You gave up that right when you walked away.”

Steve's face visibly tensed, his features contorting with a cocktail of regret and simmering resentment. The weight of his own choices seemed to settle heavily upon him, as your words hit their mark. After a palpable pause, he muttered, “Maybe I made a mistake coming here.”

The silence that stretched between you all was filled with a myriad of emotions - regret, longing, anger, and frustration. Bucky, standing steadfastly by your side, was a silent pillar of strength, his presence a testament to the bond you had forged in the wake of Steve's absence.

Bucky, his voice steady and resolute, “This isn't about making things right or reclaiming what's yours, Steve,” he said, his tone unwavering. “It's about what's best for them.” His eyes glinted with a mix of protectiveness and affection as he glanced at you and Natalia, his unspoken promise to always protect them evident in his demeanor.

Bucky's words carried weight, each syllable imbued with the depth of his commitment. “You had your chance,” he continued, his voice unwavering. “You made your choice, and we made ours. Now it's time for you to decide what's important to you - your past mistakes or their happiness.”

The room seemed to still, the intensity of Bucky's words hanging in the air. You could see the impact they had on Steve, his face etched with a mix of guilt and defiance, as if struggling to reconcile the reality of his actions with the life you and Natalia had built without him.

“You broke your promises, Steve,” you said, your voice tinged with a mix of disappointment and heartache. “You said you'd always be there, that you'd come back. But you didn't.” A pause hung in the air, the weight of your words palpable.

“Bucky,” you continued, your voice softening with gratitude, “he kept all of his promises. He was there for us, every step of the way.”

The weight of your words settled heavily in the room, emphasizing the contrast between Steve's broken vows and Bucky's unwavering loyalty.

Steve's gaze darted between you and Bucky, the weight of his actions sinking in. His voice lowered slightly, laced with a mix of frustration and resignation. “Fine,” he acquiesced, his tone softer yet tinged with bitterness. “But don't expect me to just disappear.” His words hung in the air, a mix of defiance and regret, hinting at his unwillingness to be completely shut out of the lives he had walked away from.

As Steve turned to leave, a flicker of realization crossed his face, a glimpse at the magnitude of what he had lost. The sound of the door closing behind him marked the finality of his departure, an indictment of his own choices. In the silence that followed, the weight of his loss and the solitude that was now his own doing became painfully apparent.

You found solace in Bucky's embrace, his warmth a balm to the chill left by Steve's presence. His arms encircled you, offering solace and security in the aftermath of the tumultuous encounter.

“We've got each other,” Bucky whispered, his voice a warm whisper against your skin, as he pressed a tender kiss to your forehead. The tumultuous storm outside mirrored the chaos of emotions stirred by Steve's visit, but in that moment, wrapped in Bucky's embrace, you found peace and certainty.

“That's all we need.” he murmured, emphasizing the bond that had grown between you. And amid the echoes of your past, your heart and future now stood firm in the present, fortified by your love for Bucky.

Natalia, her little hands tugging at Bucky's pant leg, looked up at him with wide, pleading eyes. “Up, up!” she giggled, her voice sweet and eager. Bucky's face lit up with an affectionate smile as he scooped her up into his arms, lifting her up high with a hearty laugh.

Without hesitation, you stepped into the embrace, snaking your arms around both Natalia and Bucky, completing the circle of love. In that moment, as you clung to one another, you felt a profound sense of unity, a sense of being a family beyond blood or circumstance.

Meanwhile as Steve walked away from your doorstep, a heaviness settled upon him. The weight of his choices and the broken promises echoed loudly in the emptiness of his solitude. Although he couldn't change the past, he held onto a glimmer of hope that someday, he might find a place in his daughter's life.

However, for now, he was left to navigate the consequences of his actions, the storm of his loneliness mirroring the storm that had passed through your home.

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[onlyforsebastianstan]

Until her Last Breath (part 2)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader | Steve

Genre:

➤ Angst / Slow Burn / Drama / Hurt/Comfort / Love Triangle (Steve x Reader x Bucky) / Tragedy / Romantic Rivalry / Emotional Whump / Action/Suspense / Bittersweet

Summary:

Set after the events of The Winter Soldier, Bucky Barnes is a member of the Avengers but carries heavy emotional scars. When Tony introduces a mysterious, immortal woman to the team, one who has loved Bucky since the 1940s, his coldness becomes cruelty. Unbeknownst to him, the woman he mistreats has been silently watching over him for decades. But when Steve Rogers begins to show her the warmth Bucky denied her, the old soldier is forced to confront his own feelings, too late. A mission to rescue her from Hydra turns into a race against time and regret.

Part 2

⚠️ Content Warnings (CW):

→ Depictions of Torture

→ Mental and Emotional Trauma

→ Angst / Heartbreak

→ Implied Death / Character Death

→ Depressive Themes

→ Graphic descriptions of suffering (non-sexual)

Recommended Reader Age: 16+

There were no stars that night. The skies above the Stark estate were heavy, swollen with clouds that refused to rain. The air smelled of wilted roses and upturned earth as a sea of black surrounded your casket. A stark contrast to the life you once embodied.

It was Wanda who wept first. Vision held her as she trembled, her sobs silent beneath the priest’s final words. Sam stood behind her, eyes fixed on the coffin slowly descending into the soil. Beside them, Natasha stared at the ground with a cold stillness, her arms folded tightly across her chest like she was holding herself together. Clint hadn’t said a word since he arrived. He didn’t need to.

Steve’s jaw was locked tight, his hands clenched behind his back in military attention. But his red-rimmed eyes gave him away. His fingers twitched. His throat bobbed. It had taken everything in him to carry your casket. To keep his shoulders from collapsing under the weight of losing someone again.

And Bucky… he stood apart from them all.

Not at the front. Not at the back. Just somewhere off to the side, half-shadowed by a leafless tree, as if he didn’t belong. As if he couldn’t bear to stand any closer to what he had done.

He hadn’t slept in days. His eyes were sunken, cheeks hollow. His arm, his cursed metal arm, twitched with a phantom pain he couldn’t explain. The same hand that had reached too late. The same hand that should’ve held you.

He remembered the way your body had looked in his arms after the rescue. Pale. Cold. Your blood had stained his shirt, and he hadn’t even noticed. Not until Steve pointed it out, whispering, “She’s not healing, Buck. She’s not healing.”

It was then he knew you’d given up. That you had let go of immortality. Because of him.

“I’m sorry,” Bucky whispered, to no one, to you. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.” The coffin disappeared beneath the soil. And with it, the last light in his life.

Months passed after your death.

The nightmares never stopped. Bucky would wake in a cold sweat, choking on your name. Sometimes it was the Hydra labs. Sometimes it was the sound of your scream, echoing from the video Pierce had shown them—your body thrashing, begging for mercy, your voice hoarse from agony. But the worst dreams were the ones where you smiled at him.

Where you laughed like you used to, before he tore your spirit down. Before his jealousy and cruelty drove you into silence. Into isolation. Into Hydra’s hands.

He would see you standing there, bathed in sunlight, whispering, “I love you, Bucky.” And then you’d vanish. He’d claw at the sheets, heart racing, vision blurred. Beside him, silence. Always silence.

Steve had tried his best. They’d supported each other through those years. The weight of your absence was something neither of them could carry alone. Steve, ever the optimist, told himself he had to keep going, for you. For everyone. But even he admitted, “It feels wrong laughing without her around.”

They’d talk about you sometimes. In the quiet hours. Steve would recall the way your eyes used to soften whenever you looked at Bucky, before the hurt. He’d mention how kind you were to everyone, even after what Bucky had done.

“She forgave you, Buck,” Steve said once, his voice breaking. “Even before you asked for it. I think she always did.” But it wasn’t enough. Nothing ever would be

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Then the world got worse.

Thanos came. Took the stones. Snapped his fingers and turned half of the universe to dust.

The compound was chaos when it happened. Calls dropped mid-sentence. Alarms blared with no direction. And then silence.

You weren’t there to hold anyone’s hand. You weren’t there to run calculations or patch wounds or ease tension with soft smiles and jokes about how it would all turn out fine.

Bucky stood in the rubble, breathing in smoke and ruin, and watched more people disappear.

But not him. He remained. The universe didn’t take him. Not when he wanted it to. Not when all he could feel was the yawning void you had left behind and the silent scream inside his ribs begging for release.

He clenched his fists so hard his palms bled. Cursed whatever cosmic force was playing god with their lives. He would’ve traded everything, every redemption arc, every battle won, every second chance, just to switch places with you.

But the universe isn’t that kind.

In the five years that followed, Bucky became a ghost that walked. The world was quieter now. Grayer. People whispered about rebuilding, about finding hope, but Bucky didn’t see the point.

He found himself wandering sometimes. Ending up at your grave without remembering how he got there. He’d sit for hours, talking to the headstone like it could answer. Like it was you. He told you about the ones they lost. About the ones who stayed. About how Steve was still trying. Always trying.

He never told you that he cried when he saw your favorite book on the shelf or when your playlist randomly played in the gym.

He figured you already knew.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Five Years Later

Scott Lang, fresh from the Quantum Realm and full of ideas that sounded like delusion if not for the glint of real hope in his eyes. Time travel. Second chances. Undoing the snap.

It was absurd. But absurd was all they had left. The plan was reckless. Nearly impossible. But they were the Avengers. Reckless and impossible were in their blood.

They split into teams. Faced their pasts. Stared down versions of themselves they had tried to leave behind. Tony, Bruce, Clint, Natasha… all risking everything for the sliver of a future. For the chance to bring everyone home.

For the chance to bring you home, even if they didn't dare say it out loud.

Bucky volunteered for the final stand. He didn't want to sit it out. If this was the end, he needed to be there. Fighting. Bleeding. Maybe dying. Maybe finally finding you again.

The battlefield burned. Thanos had arrived with vengeance in his eyes, determined to end every last shred of resistance. His army descended like a plague, monstrous and unrelenting.

Steve, wielding Mjolnir now, stood at the forefront. Battered and bloodied, but unyielding. Bucky fought beside him, bullets flying from his rifle, blades slicing through enemies, teeth bared in fury.

But it wasn’t enough.

They were outnumbered. Outpowered. One by one, their strength began to falter.

In the silence between explosions, Bucky looked to Steve, a single glance, heavy with meaning.

“If this is it,” it said. “Then I’m ready.”

Because he was. He had been for years. He wanted to stop running. Stop pretending. Stop surviving without you. Let it end. Let it all just end.

Then, portals bloomed across the battlefield like golden wounds in space. From Wakanda to Kamar-Taj, from New Asgard to the very stars, heroes arrived. The armies of Earth returned.

Sam soared through the sky.

T’Challa marched beside Shuri and Okoye.

Peter stumbled forward, breathless but determined.

And together, they pushed Thanos and his armies back.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘∘₊✧──────✧₊∘∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Somewhere far from Earth, where stars wept quietly and time folded in on itself, your soul drifted like a whisper. You simply existed. Silent, weightless, and lost among cosmic winds, listening to a chorus of voices you didn’t recognize.

You don’t remember dying. Not really. You remember pain. Sharp, unbearable, splitting pain, followed by a silence so vast it made your bones ache, except you weren’t sure you had bones anymore. You weren’t sure you had a body at all. You simply… were. Somewhere in between. Suspended in silence.

It wasn’t dark. It wasn’t light either. It was absence. It was everything and nothing. A place untouched by time. You couldn’t see, You couldn’t speak. But you could hear.

Faint at first. Distant, like voices filtered through centuries of glass and water, so muffled they could’ve been figments of your imagination. Then louder. Louder. Sharp. Echoing. Tearing through the veil.

You heard crying. You heard someone scream your name. You heard them whisper it, too, like prayer. Like apology.

"Please, come back." "She didn’t deserve this." "She was everything." "I should’ve protected her." "I loved you. I never said it, but I—God, I loved you."

They called your name. Softly at first, like a forgotten lullaby. Then louder, with desperation.

Bucky. Steve. Tony. Even Natasha. Their voices layered and blurred, echoing through this space between life and death. But they were strangers to you now. Their words etched sorrow into your spectral form, but they brought no recognition. The weight of grief, of longing, of something broken and unfinished, it reached you before their names did.

You didn’t know why you were still here.

You didn’t know why their cries haunted you, or why every whispered “please” twisted something inside your shapeless being.

One voice stayed with you longer than the others.

Rough. Familiar. Desperate. Male.

“I'm sorry. I was cruel. I was a coward. If I could go back—” A pause. “I should’ve told you to stay. I should’ve told you how I felt before it was too late.”

You don’t know why, but those words made you curl inward, if a soul could curl. They hollowed you. They cracked something open. They made you want to scream back, "Why didn’t you?"

But no sound came from you. You were invisible. Untouchable. A soul without a name. A presence floating in the ache of what once was.

More time passed, though you didn’t know how much. Time didn’t work here. It wasn’t measured in seconds or sunrises. It was measured in longing.

You were alone. And yet… not. Because somewhere in the stillness, something else stirred. A voice, not from the past, not among the mourners, but something ancient. Something deep.

“Child,” it said.

It echoed not around you, but within you.

“Do you wish to return?”

You didn’t answer. Not right away.

Because what was there to return to? You didn’t know your name. You didn’t know the people who mourned you. You didn’t remember the life you’d lived, or the pain that had ended it. You were a blank slate now, shaped only by the sound of grief.

The voice was patient. Endless.

“Earth is in peril. The people who love you are fighting. They are losing.”

“To save them,” it said, “you must leave this place. You must return. But you will not remember them. You will not remember love or pain. Only purpose.”

You hesitated. The voice waited. The familiar ache from the others’ pleading still echoed. There was warmth in those words, a sense of something once treasured, once lived. Even if you didn’t remember them, you could feel their need.

And something inside you, a flicker of goodness, of willpower, said yes.

So you fell. Like a meteor breaking through atmosphere, your soul hurtled toward Earth. No longer a ghost of the past, but a force reborn. Not with vengeance, but with the faint pull of hope.

Deep under six feet of dirt, your body lay still in its coffin. Time had done little to it. You were encased in something eternal, something unknowable by science or magic. And then, slowly, your fingers twitched.

Your lungs pulled in soil and rot, and exhaled stardust. With every creak of bone and muscle, you clawed toward the surface, fingertips bleeding light. Until, finally, your hand broke through earth, shaking as it grasped life once more.

The world above had changed. The sky was bruised with smoke and fire, lit by the chaos of war. Ash fell like snow. Explosions echoed in the distance. And you, half-dazed, barefoot, caked in dirt and ancient power, stood at the edge of the ruins where the final battle was raging.

Unaware of who you were. Unaware of who you had been. But drawn forward.

You walked, barefoot and dauntless, through the shattered landscape. You didn’t flinch at the screams, didn’t blink at the falling debris. Something inside you, whatever force sent you back, shielded you as you moved like a ghost among titans.

In the distance, a scarlet witch tore into Thanos with the fury of grief. Her powers cracked the sky as she screamed.

“You took everything from me.”

Thanos growled. “I don’t even know who you are.”

But you did not stop to watch.

Your steps led you forward until you found them.

Bucky was fighting beside Steve, bruised and bloodied, a shield half-shattered, breathing hard. The battlefield was slipping. They were outnumbered, outgunned. Thanos signaled his warships.

“Rain fire,” he barked.

“But our troops—” one of his generals protested.

“Do it!” he roared.

And then the skies opened. Hell fell from above.

Missiles screamed through the clouds, raining destruction indiscriminately. Friend and foe alike were caught in the inferno. Smoke choked the air. Screams rang out from every direction. The battlefield fractured into chaos, their last hope flickering beneath falling stars of fire.

Bucky stood frozen, his rifle dropped, his heart plummeting. He couldn’t move fast enough. Couldn’t protect everyone. Couldn’t protect Steve.

Couldn’t protect himself.

Maybe it was time.

He turned his head. Steve was about ten feet away, holding the broken remains of the shield close to his chest. Blood trickled down his temple, and his legs trembled beneath him. Still, he stood tall. Always the last man standing.

Their eyes met.

Bucky’s lips moved. No sound came out.

But Steve understood.

This was goodbye.

And Bucky, he was almost relieved.

Maybe now he could finally see you again.

Maybe now—

A streak of light tore through the smoke. And then there you were.

Descending through fire like a divine storm, landing between them and death.

The missiles struck, directly above, and exploded on contact with your outstretched palms.

A dome of golden energy burst outward, swallowing the blast before it could reach them. Fire licked the edges of your shield and fizzled out like dying sparks.

Bucky stared at you, his mouth parted, his soul split clean in two.

It was you.

You, who had died in his arms.

You, whose body he’d helped lower into the ground.

You, who’d haunted every dream, every nightmare, every breath for five years.

And now you stood before him, alive and radiating something otherworldly.

“Y/N...?”

His voice was barely a whisper, like the breath had been stolen from him.

You didn’t react to the name. You looked at him, really looked, and something in your chest ached.

“Are you hurt?” you asked, voice soft and foreign even to your own ears.

He couldn’t speak. He just stared. Steve nearly dropped his shield.

“Oh my god,” he breathed. “She’s... Bucky, she’s alive.”

You turned toward him, confused. Before you could ask anything, an explosion hit nearby, shaking the ground.

Instinctively, you raised your hand. A shield, golden and celestial, flared into existence, absorbing the impact. Then it disappeared just as fast.

You turned back. “I don’t know who you are. But I’ll help you win.” And then you were gone, leaping back into the fray.

Neither Bucky nor Steve followed right away. They stood there, breathing like men who had just seen a ghost.

But she wasn’t a ghost. You were real. Alive. And you didn’t remember them.

You moved through the chaos like a second sun. Though you remembered nothing of your time with them, your instincts were precise, graceful, powerful. You shielded fallen soldiers. You redirected attacks. You took every wound that would’ve ended someone else.

And when the gauntlet fell into the wrong hands, you were there, guiding it back to the Avengers’ side. They didn’t know what you were. But they knew you were with them. And then it happened.

Tony’s snap.

The end of Thanos. But also… the end of Tony. Or so they thought.

In the aftermath, while the others mourned, while Pepper held Tony’s fading body and Peter sobbed beside him, you slipped away.

Drawn by something. Called by something. You found his body before it had turned cold. Kneeling beside him, you stared at his face, worn, scarred, and so familiar. But still, you didn’t know him. You only knew what the voice had told you before your return, help them. Help them live.

You reached down, brushing your fingers across his chest, over the arc reactor still pulsing weakly. The moment your palm touched it, golden light flared from beneath your skin. Tony’s body convulsed once, and then lay still.

But the light didn’t fade. It sank into his wounds, knitting torn flesh and bone. His breathing returned. Faint. But steady. You stood before anyone could see. Your body already flickering, fading again. You stepped into the shadows as the others approached, disappearing behind rubble, disappearing from the moment.

And when Pepper turned back to Tony, his eyes fluttered open.

“Pepp?” he croaked.

Her gasp echoed louder than any explosion had. He was alive.

You walked for what felt like days through the ruined edges of the battlefield, your feet barely touching the ground. You didn’t know where to go. You didn’t remember anything, no home, no friends, no purpose beyond what that celestial voice had asked of you.

Still, your chest ached. As if it had once known love. As if it had once been broken. And then you heard your name whispered again. Not by the voice that returned you. But by a man with long, dark hair and eyes that burned like storms.

He stood just out of reach, afraid to take a step closer. Afraid you’d vanish again.

“Y/N…” Bucky breathed.

You blinked at him. “I’m sorry,” you said, soft and apologetic. “I don’t know you.”

He smiled anyway. It was heartbreak in a smile. “That’s okay,” he whispered, tears filling his eyes. “You’re here. That’s all that matters.” You stared at him, and something tugged at your soul. Not a memory. A feeling.

But then he looked down, blinked, and when he raised his head, you were gone again, vanishing into the smoke, leaving only silence behind.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘∘₊✧──────✧₊∘∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

The silence after the war was deafening. No more fire raining from the sky. No armies charging. No screams or gunfire. Just the wind brushing ash off cracked earth, the gentle hum of the portals closing one by one, and the soft gasp of disbelief as Tony Stark sat up, dazed but alive.

The compound was in ruins, but hope, fickle and fragile, had survived. And somewhere, in the flicker between moments, the world shifted again. Not because a battle had been won, but because a girl who should’ve remained dead was walking again.

You didn’t stay long in the shadows. You couldn’t explain what brought you to Stark’s doorstep days later, or how your feet found the way like they’d been there before. The compound was under reconstruction, but Tony, though still healing and uncharacteristically rattled, had resumed his usual pace, overseeing logistics with a caffeine IV and sarcasm cranked to maximum. He froze when he saw you standing at the edge of the compound’s shattered entryway. Like a ghost. Like a memory he couldn’t place.

“…You’re,” he blinked, head tilting, “Wait a damn second. I know that face.”

You tilted your head in return. “Do you?”

He stared at you, brows furrowing. “You’re… I… huh. This is weird. Really weird.”

You smiled politely, still unsure of what you were doing there.

“I helped you,” you offered, like that might clarify something.

He squinted. “Yeah. Yeah, I remember that part. Just not why I remember more than that.”

Pepper stepped beside him. Her breath caught.

“Oh my God,” she whispered. “Is that—”

“do you know her?” Tony muttered. Pepper looking at Tony confused at his question. “I mean… maybe? Is it?”

Your smile flickered. “I don’t remember.”

And that was the strange thing. Tony had always remembered everything. Sharp as a whip, a mind like steel. But now, looking at you, he only saw static. A déjà vu too deep to be dismissed. Something about your voice, your face, your posture, it echoed.

Like a note played underwater.

“I think we knew each other,” you said, quietly.

He nodded slowly. “Yeah. Same.”

You turned to go, unsure of what came next.

But he called after you. “Hey, wait—Y/N, right?”

You stilled. You didn’t know how he knew your name. You didn’t know how you knew it was yours. But you nodded. And from that moment, the name spread.

The news traveled fast. Steve and Bucky were the first to arrive.

You were seated in what remained of the communal lounge, tracing the grains of a warped tabletop with your fingertips, when they walked in.

Steve stopped first. Stared. Bucky walked past him slowly. His breath caught the second your eyes lifted. You stared at him like he was the shape of something you should recognize, but couldn’t. He stopped three feet from you.

“…Y/N?” Bucky said, voice low, fragile.

You blinked slowly. “That’s what they keep calling me.” His throat bobbed. Steve exhaled shakily and stepped forward.

“Do you know who we are?” he asked.

You studied him. “I feel like I should.”

Steve gave a soft smile. “I’m Steve. That’s Bucky.”

“Steve and Bucky,” you repeated.

The names tasted like ash and sunlight. Something old. Something mourned. You tilted your head. “I don’t remember you.”

Bucky’s eyes dropped to the floor. “…It’s okay,” he said gently.

“It’s not,” Steve murmured, too quietly for you to hear.

They all wanted answers. Tony ran blood work. Bruce scanned your brain. Wanda hovered on the edge of magic, unsure if it was her place to intervene.

But no one could explain it. You were you. Down to your DNA. Yet your memories, your emotions, your history with them… gone. You weren’t hostile. You weren’t confused. You just weren’t who you were. And yet, you were still kind. Still warm. Still drawn to them, like old stars circling familiar gravity.

Steve, for his part, kept his distance. But you noticed him watching you sometimes, when you spoke, when you laughed, when your smile flickered at something Bucky said. His eyes always softened. Like he was remembering a version of you he’d buried alongside Peggy’s locket.

One morning, he finally approached. You were alone, again, at the shoreline. The sky was a watercolor of dawn.

“I keep wondering,” Steve said, sitting beside you, “if it’s selfish to want the old you back.”

You turned toward him. “Was she better than me?”

He smiled faintly. “No. Just… different.”

You nodded. “I think I feel her sometimes. Like a shadow I can’t touch.”

He looked at you for a long moment. “You were fierce. Loyal. Stubborn as hell.”

“That sounds exhausting.”

Steve chuckled. “It was.”

You smiled. Then asked, “Did I love you?”

His gaze dropped to the water. “Yes,” he said softly. “But not the way you loved Bucky.”

You looked down at your hands. “…I still don’t remember.”

“You don’t have to.”

----------------------------

The days turned into weeks. Tony couldn’t remember why your presence hurt. Bruce couldn’t explain your physiology. Sam took to calling you “Ghost Girl,” to which Bucky scowled every time. But it was Bucky who lingered. Always.

In the kitchen, he’d hand you your favorite mug without asking. In the training room, he’d offer to spar but never land a hit. In the library, he’d read in silence across from you, as if your very presence anchored him. And he didn’t speak of the past. Not once.

He didn’t bring up your first life. He didn’t try to remind you of who you used to be. He just… stayed.

Until one night, when the quiet grew heavy, you asked:

“Did we know each other well?”

He looked up from the book in his hands, eyes soft. “I didn’t treat you right,” he said. “Not at first.” You waited. “I pushed you away,” he admitted. “I hurt you.” Your heart twisted. “But I…” he looked down. “You were the only one who never gave up on me. Even when I didn’t deserve it.”

You didn’t respond. You didn’t know how. Instead, you placed a gentle hand over his. “I don’t remember,” you whispered.

“I know.”

“But I can tell… I must have loved you.”

He choked on a breath. And Steve, watching from the doorway, turned and walked away.

The rivalry was quiet. There were no fights. No accusations. Just two men, in love with the same soul. But only one had watched her die. Only one had begged her to stay. Steve could’ve fought for you.

He could’ve said the things he never got to say, how your laugh once steadied him more than any battlefield.

But he didn’t. He remembered Peggy. He remembered the ache of her photo in his compass, how her voice haunted his every step until he held her hand again during the time heist. And he remembered you.

How your love had always been softer. Slower. Rooted in friendship, in loyalty. Platonic, but no less powerful. You were the tether.

But Bucky? You were his lifeline.

So Steve stepped back. He handed the compass back to fate. And quietly, he gave you to Bucky.

The days had grown longer.

Not because of the Earth's orbit, but because of something unexplainable, like the air around you was thicker, heavier, filled with something invisible but aching. You felt it in the mornings, that odd tug in your chest. And it wasn’t just dreams anymore. They were waking memories, flashes of a world you weren’t sure belonged to you.

You stood in front of the large window of your new quarters in the rebuilt Avengers compound, watching the wind brush through the trees just beyond the grounds. The golden light of early evening filtered in, soft and warm, but it did little to chase the chill that had begun to live in your bones.

A smile. A laugh. A street in Brooklyn lined with brick buildings. A war, too loud, too fast. And then pain. So much pain. And a voice, broken, begging, “Please don’t leave me.”

You didn’t know what it meant. Not fully. Not yet.

You clutched the edges of the sink in your bathroom later that night, cold water dripping from your fingertips. The vision had hit you like a punch in the stomach. One moment you were brushing your hair; the next, you saw him, Bucky, younger, angrier, afraid. And you were crying. Bleeding. Whispering that you forgave him.

But it didn’t make sense. Why would you forgive him?

You pulled the towel around your shoulders and stared at your reflection. The woman in the mirror looked strong. New. Like she hadn’t lived a thousand lives. But deep in your eyes, something older stirred. Something cracked.

Bucky noticed it first.

At first, it was subtle, the way your eyes lingered too long on a photograph in the hallway. The way you pulled your hand away when he tried to pass you a coffee. The way your smile never quite reached your eyes anymore.

He tried not to take it personally. He really did. But every time you looked at him like a stranger again, something in him flinched.

You had been laughing the night before, sitting on the couch between Sam and Wanda while some old sitcom flickered on the screen. And then you saw him walk in, and your laughter faded. Your body tensed. You pretended you had somewhere to be.

And that was when it hit him like a winter wind through a cracked window. You remembered something.

He stood outside your room for twenty minutes the next morning, fists clenched at his sides. He wanted to knock. He wanted to ask. But what would he say?

Did you remember the way he used to hate you? Did you remember the venom in his voice? The way he pushed you away again and again until it broke you?

Did you remember how you died? In his arms?

He leaned his head against the cool metal door, whispering to himself.

“Please don’t remember me like that…”

Days turned to weeks.

You had started avoiding him more obviously now.

Tony noticed. So did Steve.

Steve tried once to bring it up during training, standing beside you as you both stared at the skyline from the rooftop track.

“You okay?” he asked gently. You nodded, not trusting your voice.

“You’ve been quiet lately. Around Bucky.”

You turned to look at him, and for a brief second, something behind your eyes softened. “Do you think… people can change, Steve?”

His brow furrowed. “Yes. I do.”

“Even if they were cruel to someone who loved them?”

Steve hesitated. He didn’t ask how you knew that. He didn’t ask who you were referring to. “I think… people live with that cruelty every day,” he said finally. “But if they truly regret it, if they’d give anything to undo it, that means something. Doesn’t it?”

You didn’t answer. You just looked out over the trees.

That night, Bucky couldn’t take it anymore.

He found you sitting on the back porch of the compound, legs tucked under you, wrapped in a blanket. The moonlight made your skin look like porcelain, soft and far away.

“Can I sit?” he asked, voice low.

You didn’t move for a moment. Then you nodded, barely. He sat beside you, a careful distance between your shoulders. The silence stretched. Stars blinked overhead.

“You remember,” he said. Not a question. A truth.

You didn’t deny it. “It’s not everything,” you said quietly. “Just pieces. Just… feelings.”

He swallowed hard. “And they hurt.”

You nodded, your voice a whisper. “They do.”

His hands trembled in his lap. “I deserve that.”

He turned to look at you, eyes full of things he hadn’t said. “I said horrible things to you. I hated you for no reason. You didn’t deserve any of it.”

“I know.”

He flinched. “I thought I was protecting myself. From caring. From needing someone again. But it wasn’t fair. And I—”

“Bucky,” you interrupted, eyes finally meeting his. “I need time.”

He went quiet.

You added gently, “I don’t hate you. But I don’t know how to feel right now. I’m trying to understand what was real and what wasn’t. What I feel now and what I used to feel then.”

He nodded slowly. “I’ll wait. However long it takes.”

You looked away again, back toward the woods. “I think I need space.” His heart sank, but he didn’t fight it. Not this time.

“Okay,” he whispered. “Take it.”

And then he stood and left, footsteps soft, the night colder behind him.

The days bled into weeks.

You hadn’t returned to the compound. You hadn’t answered texts, or calls, or even Steve’s quiet knock on the door of the safehouse where he knew you’d gone.

You needed distance, not because you were running, but because you were unraveling.

The memories were coming faster now. Clearer. Sharper. And more painful than you ever imagined.

The 1940s. Brooklyn. A quiet seat at the back of a diner. Red leather booths. Steve’s smile, that boyish, hopeful grin before the serum changed him. You remembered watching him with a fondness that felt like muscle memory. And there he was, Bucky, walking in with that confident swagger, hair slicked back, teasing Steve mercilessly.

He didn’t know you then. You had just been a face in the crowd. Someone on the periphery, observing them from across the room, nursing a coffee, pretending not to care. But in truth, you had watched him. Watched them. Admired them.

Then came the missions. War. Silence.

And then, Hydra.

Your own capture. The experiments. The pain. The cell. And eventually… him.

Not the Bucky Barnes you’d once quietly admired. No. The Winter Soldier. Cold. Detached. Weaponized.

But even then, there had been flickers. The way his eyes would linger just a little too long. The hesitation in his breath before delivering his orders.

You remembered the arguments. The rage. The way he told you to leave him alone. That you were a weakness. That he never wanted you near him again.

You remembered your heart breaking, quietly, under fluorescent lights and steel walls. And you remembered dying.

He’d held you, shaking, in that final moment. Begging. Pleading. Apologizing. His voice cracking on every breath as he tried to take back every terrible thing he’d ever said.

You remembered his voice more than the pain. “Please—no—don’t leave me—I didn’t mean it—I’m sorry—I’m sorry—”

And now? Now you woke up in cold sweats, that same voice echoing in your ears. You weren’t sure if you could ever survive that again.

Back at the compound, Bucky was unraveling too.

He hadn’t slept in days. The bed felt too empty, the room too hollow. The silence felt louder than gunfire. Steve found him in the kitchen one night, sitting at the table with his face buried in his hands.

“She’s not coming back,” Bucky mumbled, not looking up.

Steve leaned against the counter. “You don’t know that.”

“I do,” Bucky said, voice flat. “I wouldn’t come back either.”

Steve sighed. “She just needs time.”

“I gave her time.”

“Then give her more. Because if she’s still out there thinking about you, even a little… then there’s hope.”

Bucky looked up finally, his eyes red. “I don’t deserve hope.”

“None of us do,” Steve said quietly. “But sometimes we get it anyway.”

The next morning was fogged with dew and chilled air. Bucky didn’t plan where he was going, his feet took him down the familiar path behind the compound, through the trees and toward the creek. He needed air. Something real. Something that didn’t remind him of her.

So naturally, that’s exactly where he found her. You.

Standing at the edge of the water, arms folded, watching the soft current ripple past your boots. You looked like a dream, not ethereal, but grounded. Present. Wounded, but still standing.

Bucky froze.

You turned. Slowly. Like you’d sensed him the whole time. And when your eyes met his, he stopped breathing. Neither of you spoke for a long time. Then, with shaky steps, Bucky moved toward you.

“I didn’t think you’d come back,” he said, his voice raw.

“I wasn’t sure I would,” you replied, your voice quiet but steady. “I was angry. Hurt. Confused.”

He nodded. “You had every right to be.”

“I remembered everything,” you continued, taking a tentative step closer. “The Hydra facility. The things you said. How you pushed me away. But I also remembered the way you looked at me when I was dying. How you begged me to stay. That… that broke something in me, Bucky.”

He swallowed hard, his eyes glistening. “I was scared. Of you. Of myself. I didn’t know how to love anyone. I didn’t think I deserved it.”

“And now?” you asked gently.

“I still don’t know if I deserve you,” he whispered, “but I know I want to try. If you’ll let me.”

You looked at him, really looked at him. The man who had once been broken beyond recognition. Who had clawed his way back piece by piece, haunted by what he’d done.

And you saw it now. Not just regret. Not just guilt. You saw hope.

“I want to try too,” you said. “But you have to be patient with me. I don’t know if I can fall in love with the same man twice.”

“I’ll wait,” he said without hesitation. “However long it takes. Just… don’t disappear on me again.”

You hesitated, then stepped into his arms. Tentative. Testing.

He pulled you close like you were something sacred. Like he couldn’t believe you were real.

He cried, openly, quietly, shamelessly.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered into your hair. “I’m so sorry.”

“I know,” you murmured. “I forgive you.”

And you meant it.

Because sometimes love doesn’t come roaring back like a wildfire. Sometimes it returns like this, slowly, carefully. Like dawn breaking through a storm.

Two broken hearts. One final chance. And this time, neither of you would let go.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Epilogue of Until her Last Breath

See my other stories here >>> Masterlist <<<

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

Hi luv!!! Hope your week is going well! I love your work you always do amazing! 💕

I was wondering if you could do one with bucky and his teen daughter where maybe she is pressured by her friends to drink one night at a sleepover that he finally agrees to let her go to, but she gets scared after having one and calls him in a panic because she's afraid he'll be angry which he is but when he shows up he just becomes so protective and concerned. And maybe her uncles come along as well? If not that's totally okay no worries! I do not support underage drinking at all fyi, it was just a thought !! 💕

Pressured To Drink » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Pairings: Dad!Bucky Barnes x Teen Daughter!Reader with Steve Rogers/Captain America and Sam Wilson/Falcon

Summary: You’re at a sleepover at your friend’s house and they pressure you into drinking and then you call your dad to pick you up.

Warnings: Fluff, tiny bit of Angst, language, alcohol, underage drinking, crying, nicknames

Age of reader: 13 years old

A/N: Thank you for the request, nonnie🩵

Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.

Header made by @buck-star

GIF IS NOT MINE! Gif credit goes to the creator.

Talking your dad into allowing you to do something is always difficult. When Bucky says no to you, he means it. You resort to begging if you have to. Today at school, one of your friends asked you if you wanted to have a sleepover at her house tonight, which you really want to do. You’ve been begging your dad to let you go to her house for the sleepover since he picked you up from school.

“Dad, please let me go to the sleepover.” You begged.

Bucky hasn’t exactly said no to you going. He’s just beating around the bush.

“Y/N, you’ve been asking me the same question for almost an hour.” Bucky says.

“I’ll stop asking if you let me go.” You say.

Bucky sighs and thought about it for a moment. He just doesn’t want anything to happen to you is all. Although, he’s happy that you have friends.

“Ok, fine. You can go to the sleepover.” He finally says.

You squealed in excitement and hugged your dad.

“I’m going to text Ava and pack!” You say.

“Hold it!” Bucky stops you before you bolted out of the living room. “I have one rule. Don’t do anything stupid or you’ll be grounded for the rest of the month. Do you understand?” He says.

“Yes, dad. I understand.” You say.

You went to your room and texted your friend, telling her that your dad is letting you go to her sleepover and then you packed for it.

When it finally came time for the sleepover, your dad walked you to the door of your friend’s house. You knocked on the door.

“Hi, Y/N.” Ava’s mom smiles. “The girls are in the living room.” She says.

“Ok.” You smiled back.

You gave your dad a hug and told him you love him. Bucky watched as you ran to the living room.

“She’s in good hands, James.” She says.

Bucky smiles and nods before leaving. He went back home while you had fun with your friends. Bucky’s nerves were through the roof when he was hanging out with Steve and Sam.

“Did I make the right decision by letting Y/N go to a sleepover at her friend’s house?” Bucky asks Steve and Sam.

“She’s 13, man. She’s got to hangout with her friends outside of school sometimes.” Sam says.

“We understand that you’re very protective of her, Buck, but she’ll be fine. You don’t have anything to worry about.” Steve says.

Bucky knows Steve and Sam are right. He knows you’ll be fine at your friend’s house for the night. He also knows if anything happens while you’re at the sleepover, you’ll call him. He’s just nervous about the whole thing. All he needs to do is try to relax.

Meanwhile, you were having fun with your friends. You guys were watching movies. Ava’s mom ordered pizza for you guys. You guys took a break from watching movies to go hangout in Ava’s bedroom for a while. Ava closed and locked the door, which confused you.

“You guys want to see what my older brother bought me?” Ava asks.

You guys nodded. Ava went in her closet to get something and came out with bottles filled with something. The more you looked at the label on the box, you quickly realized that it was beer. Your eyes went wide.

“Awesome!” Your friends Elizabeth and Ally say.

You stood there silently. You didn’t think it was awesome at all. You thought it was a bad idea. Ava gave you all a beer.

“I don’t want one.” You say politely.

“It’s just beer.” Ava says.

“Live a little, Y/N.” Elizabeth says.

“What your dad doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” Ally says.

You didn’t like that they were pressuring you into drinking alcohol. You finally accepted it, but didn’t open it. They opened their beers and started drinking theirs. You nervously picked at the label and watched as your friends drank beer.

“Come on, Y/N. Open it and drink. You need to get out of your comfort zone for once.” Ava says.

You took a deep breath before opening it. You could smell the scent of the beer without having to bring it to your lips. You finally took a sip, gagging at the taste as you swallowed it.

“Relax. You’re fine.” Ally says.

You watched as your friends chugged half of their beers while yours was still almost full. You took a few sips while your friends finished theirs. You didn’t like this at all, but you didn’t want your friends to think you’re lame.

“Drink more.” Elizabeth says.

You looked at the beer for a second before drinking more. You ended up chugging it till it was half filled. A few minutes later your friends started drinking their second beers while you were finishing your first one. Something didn’t feel right after you finished it. You weren’t sure if it was your nerves or if you got a buzz from drinking it so fast.

“I’m have to the bathroom.” You say.

You stood up and unlocked the door. You walked down the hallway to the bathroom. You didn’t have to go to the bathroom. You needed to be alone and call your dad. You dialed your dad’s number and put your phone to your ear.

Bucky’s phone started ringing in his pocket. He took his phone out of his pocket to see your name on the screen. He immediately answered it.

“Doll, are you ok?” Bucky asks with concern in his voice.

“N-No.” You answered in a shaky voice.

“What’s wrong?” He asks.

“I didn’t mean to, dad.” You say, your eyes tearing up.

“You didn’t mean to do what?” He asks.

“Drink beer.” You tell him.

Bucky’s eyes went wide and his jaw clenched. Steve and Sam looked at him, wondering what’s wrong.

“Can you please pick me up?” You asked. “I want to go home.” You say.

“I’m on my way.” Bucky says before hanging up.

Bucky stood up and put his phone back in his pocket.

“Where are you going?” Sam asks.

“To pick up Y/N. She drank beer with her friends.” Bucky says.

“We’re going with you.” Steve says.

While Bucky, Steve, and Sam made their way to your friend’s house. You went back to Ava’s bedroom, making sure to wipe your tears away before they noticed that you were crying. You sat down like nothing just happened. A little bit goes by and Bucky, Steve, and Sam finally got to Ava’s house. Bucky knocked on the door and Ava’s mom opened it.

“Oh hi.” Ava’s mom steps aside to allow them to walk inside of the house. “If you’re here for Y/N, she’s in Ava’s room with the girls.” She says.

“We’re here to pick her up.” Bucky says.

“May I ask why?” She asks.

“She called me and told me she drank beer.” He says.

Her eyes went wide when he said that.

“I’ll get her.” She says.

Ava’s mom went to Ava’s bedroom. She opened the door to see that you guys were in fact drinking beer.

“Y/N, your dad and your uncles are here to pick you up.” Ava’s mom tells you.

You grabbed your stuff and left the room quickly. You could hear Ava’s mom telling Elizabeth and Ally to call their parents to come pick them up. You automatically knew they’re in trouble, especially Ava.

“Hi, dad.” You say quietly and gave Steve and Sam a smile.

“Don’t “Hi, dad.” me.” Bucky says. “How the hell did you guys even get your hands on beer?” He asks.

“Ava said her older brother bought it.” You tell him.

“How many did you drink?” He asks.

“I drank one. I didn’t want to drink it. They pressured me into drinking it.” You tell him.

Bucky’s anger faded away when you said that. He was ready to yell at you and ground you when you guys got home. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close to him. Ava walked in the room with her mom behind her.

“I want you to apologize to Y/N’s dad and uncles.” Her mom says.

Ava rolls her eyes at her mom

“I’m sorry, Mr. Barnes. I’m sorry, Mr. Rogers. I’m sorry, Mr. Wilson.” Ava apologizes, but not sincerely.

“Why would you pressure Y/N into doing something she didn’t want to do?” Steve asks Ava.

Ava looked at you and scoffed.

“You told them?!” Ava asks.

“Yes.” You answered. “I didn’t want to drink, but you guys kept pressuring me.” You say.

“I always knew you were lame.” She says, narrowing her eyes at you.

“That’s enough, Ava.” Her mom scolded her. “I am so sorry for all of this, James. Her dad and I will talk to both her and her brother about this.” She says.

You then went to the car with your dad and uncles. You were quiet the whole car ride home. Your cheeks were stained with tears. When you guys walked in the house, you went to go straight to your room, but your dad stopped you.

“Where do you think you’re going, young lady?” Bucky asks

“To my room. Aren’t I in trouble for drinking?” You say.

“Yes, but I want to talk to you first.” He says.

You went to the living room and sat down on the couch. Your dad and uncles stood in front of you like you’re in an interrogation or intervention.

“I was ready to yell at you and ground you for drinking, but I’m not going to do that.” Bucky says.

“You should. I broke the one rule you gave me. You told me not to do anything stupid and I did.” You say, your eyes tearing up.

Bucky sighs softly and sat down next to you. Steve and Sam sat on the couch opposite of you and your dad.

“I just to know why you didn’t say no to them.” He says.

“I did, but they kept pressuring me. I thought if I drank one, they’ll stop pressuring me.” You explained. “I didn’t want to drink it, dad.” You say.

“Why didn’t you call or text me when she brought out the beer?” He asks.

“I don’t know.” You mumbled and shrugged your shoulders. “I wasn’t thinking.” You say.

At this point, tears were streaming down your cheeks. Bucky wrapped his arms around you, holding you close to him.

“Are you disappointed in me?” You asked.

“For drinking, yes I am.” Bucky answers.

You started sobbing softly as your dad held you in his arms.

“Am I grounded?” You asked, looking up at your dad.

“No. I’m letting you off with a warning.” He says.

“I’m sorry, dad.” You apologized.

“I know you are, doll.” He says softly, kissing the top of your head.

“I’m sorry, uncle Steve. I’m sorry, uncle Sam.” You apologized to your uncles.

Steve and Sam gave you a smile. You didn’t have to apologize to them, but you felt like you had to. They know you’re just a teenager who wants to try new things. Your dad knows that too. They just didn’t want alcohol to be one of those things.

“Thank you for picking me up.” You thanked your dad and uncles.

“You don’t have to thank us, babydoll. We’ll always be there for you.” Bucky says softly.

“I love you guys.” You say, hugging your dad.

“I love you too, doll.” Bucky whispers, kissing the side of your head.

“We love you too, kiddo.” Steve and Sam say in unison.

🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

-Bucky’s Doll

[mrs-barnes-rogers-writes]

Angel - Part 2

Marvel AU

Pairing: Alpha Steve Rogers x Enhanced Omega Reader x Alpha Bucky Barnes

Theme: A/B/O / True Mates

Summary: It's different when you're enhanced. Everything is different, every smell, every sound, touch, feelings. The way it's different doesn't make sense unless you are enhanced. Throw in what comes with Alpha and Omega instincts, and the intensity of your presentation is even more than any other. When you find yourself in need of help you can call on the alpha you trust the most, Natasha Romanoff. You just don't expect to find your alphas at the same time. Are you really enough for them? And can you really be the Luna to the Avengers?

"To be loved, to be loved by your mate is everything." - Wanda Maximoff

Reader is enhanced, has wings and has powers connected to electricity.

Series Masterlist

Chapter Summary: Clint and Nat discover what's happened to you.

Chapter Warning: Mentions of sexual assault and attempted rape.

Clint’s the first to find you.

You’re sitting in the ditch your knees to your chest, head down and your wings wrapped around you.

“I have her, slow approach.”

He slowly knelt down in front of you, keeping a two metre distance. He had never seen your wings so dark, as black as they were now. You’d told him early on in your friendship that they changed colour with your moods. The darker, the worse the mood. He’d only seen them pure white a couple of times and it was always around his kids or laughing with Nat and Laura on the porch at the farm. But right now, they were as dark as night, like Lucifer himself had given them to you.

“Y/N? Sweetie it’s me. It’s Clint. Can you let me see you?”

Your wings dipped ever so slightly and your tear filled eyes looked back at him. It didn’t take a detective to figure out what had happened. Even his beta nose could pick up the stink of the alpha on you and he knew that scent. If he didn’t kill the alpha responsible, Romanoff definitely would. Clint knew what he had to ask you and he hated having to ask, knowing he really already knew the answer, but protocol was protocol and he knew at least a dozen agents that practically worshipped you and would bring in the piece of shit, to save him and Romanoff the trouble. They’d get you settled and then have him delivered to them. Wanda would want in on this and he was sure Wade owed you a favour. Yeah that would do it but now he needs you out of this ditch.

“Y/N? Do you require a female senior officer for debrief?”

You nodded weakly in reply.

Purposeful footsteps made themselves known and you saw Natasha’s silhouette appear from the darkness, the sparse street lights being all to light the ditch.

“Angel?”

The smell and look in your eyes hit Natasha like a freight train and she knew right then she was putting some red in her ledger. She tried her best to keep the growl muffled in her chest as she pulled out a pair of medical gloves from her pocket, as Clint mimicked her actions.

“Bruce call Hill, direct line, tell her we need her on a video call immediately. AR and SA suspected. Debrief required.” Clint requested over comms as he and Natasha slowly reached out to you, their hands outstretched. You placed a hand in one each of theirs and they slowly lifted you up, both noticing how your face contorted with pain.

“We’ve got you.” spoke Clint softly as he slipped an arm around your waist, “this OK?”

You let out a shuddered breath and nodded. Nat mimicked Clint’s actions, pushing down her inner alpha’s rage. Both supported you keeping the smallest of gaps between you so not to contaminate your suit too much and damage the evidence you were covered in.

The light breeze generated from F.R.I.D.A.Y bringing around the jet blew your hair back and Clint got a clearer view of your face, and could see a clear the mark where you’d been struck. Bruce appeared on the already lowered ramp and you noticed he was also wearing gloves and a disposable apron.

“Hills online and everything is set up.”

As you entered the jet you became aware of what Bruce meant and saw a projection of a live video call from Deputy Director Hill, a stern look on her face. A plastic sheet was laid in front of the screen, and on it laid a clear bag, swabs, scissors and nail clippers. You stepped on the sheet and Hill pushed down a growl, trying to hide it as a clearing of her throat as she saw the state you were in.

“Agent, please confirm your identity.”

You signed back.

AFH 27, code name Angel

“I’m going to need verbal communication if possible Agent.”

You gesture at your throat, getting frustrated when you realised you weren’t being clear.

“I don’t think she can.” Bruce replied for you, noticing the bruising making its way up your neck. He placed a tablet in front of you, the internal state of your vocal calls displayed.

There was a muttered Jesus Christ from Hill.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y give her a full body scan for injuries, fluids and any other evidence.”

“Agent, tell me what happened.”

Next Part

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@hnnhbananananana

[deliciousangelfestival]

His Silly Princess | Bucky (Oneshot)

Character: Bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x Princess!Reader

Words Count: 1,671

Summary: A modern royal love story. A naive princess who wants to get away from an arranged marriage. She never knew that her guard had loved her since the beginning. 

Main Masterlist || support me: Ko-fi

Thank you to anyone who gave a like, reblog, and left a comment. It motivated me to write more. 

Zylovia is a country where monarchy still exists. It’s a developed country located near Western Europe. 

It’s a prosperous country, and the number of unemployed is also the lowest. Tourists love coming here for the casino, race car, and music festival. 

But this country has one outdated rule. It didn’t apply to the citizens. Only for the royal family. 

“If the female royal member marries a commoner, she will lose her status."

You learned that rule when you were 12 years old as the youngest siblings and Princess Zylovia. You didn't put a deep thought into it. 

But now, when you are almost 30 years old, and your older siblings are already married, you think this is good for you.

Because you realize you’re not fit to do the duty as a princess. 

Your oldest brother has prepared since he was a kid to be the king. When he reaches the age of 40, he will be crowned as the king. Your second brother will be the second commander in the military. 

While you have a job as a painting conservator at the museum, your duty as a princess is to welcome the official foreign guest at the castle. You learned some languages, but you’re not allowed to give any opinion on politics.

You don’t hate being a royal, but sometimes you feel like living in a golden cage. 

And finally, you had enough because, on your recent birthday, your parents talked to you about marriage. 

The king and queen don’t want to be separated from their youngest daughter, but they hint that they wish for her future husband from the royal circle. In other words: arranged marriage. 

You clenched your jaw while smiling at your parents. If the man from the royal circle is a real gentleman, you wouldn’t mind. 

But the problem is, please pardon the harsh language; none of the men from the royal family are your type. 

Your type of man must have a stable job, look good in suits, and have a nice body. 

That’s why, for a couple of days, you’ve made a list of potential future husbands. After you write it, you realize most of the men are from the knights. Perhaps because you always went to meet your second brother at the military training ground, so you know some people. 

Steve Rogers

[Friendly, not married, nerd, loves to paint like me]

Ari Levinson 

[Funny, beautiful hair, handsome]

‘Knock, knock!’ Suddenly, someone knocked on your door.

“Come in.”

You didn’t have to turn around to see who it was. You have known him for years, and your ears are familiar with the sound of his footsteps. 

The person who walked into your room has been your exclusive bodyguard for years - James Barnes, but you always call him Bucky his nickname. 

Bucky is a commoner and an elite soldier. If there’s a shooting competition, he will be in the top three. Your second brother always hates him. 

He has received many medals of honors, but he rejects a knight title from your father. You don’t understand why he declined the offer. If he received it, he could enter politics, and he doesn’t have to follow her around anymore. 

He’s tall, handsome, with perfect blue eyes and has fine muscles on his body. Bucky also has a primarily female fanbase when he wears the military uniform and rides a horse at the independence ceremony. 

He became a celebrity overnight.

But you have never seen or heard any rumor about him with a woman. 

“Your highness, in two hours you are going to attend the tennis tournament.” 

You dropped the pen and dropped your head to the table. “Urgh. Do I have to?”

Bucky chuckled when he saw you unwilling to go. One thing you hate about your duty is to be the guest at the tennis game. You prefer to watch the race car, but it's reserved for your brother's. 

Even though you didn’t want to go, you still dragged your feet to the dressing room to grab your coat. 

When you were searching for the right outfit, you suddenly remembered. “Oh no!” You didn’t hide the potential list that you just wrote. You wish you could dig your own grave and disappear. 

And you were right; Bucky saw your writing. He furrowed his eyebrows while he read your paper. “What’s this? Potential man for marriage?”

You stand beside him; you don’t know why you feel scared. This is the first time you have seen him like this. 

His slender, pointed fingers scratched the two names with his nails. There’s a big X on your paper. 

“Don’t marry any of those men.”

“Why?”

A small smile appeared on his lips, along with a soft voice, “Steve hasn’t moved on from his last girlfriend, and Ari, he loves to drink alcohol. I know you hate the smell of alcohol.”

You felt disappointed; you crumpled the paper and threw it into the trash.

“Marriage? Why all of a sudden?” There's an annoyed tone in his voice.

You rubbed your head and muttered, “I need to get married sooner, or my parents will arrange marriage for me, their friend's kid. And you know the truth, I had enough of being a princess.”

Bucky crossed his arms. “But, why them?”

“What?”

He clenched his fist; Bucky stared at her with an annoyed expression. “Why didn't you put me on the list?”

“....”

You waved your hand. “It doesn’t matter, as long as I got married.”

“So, would you like to marry me?”

Are you having hallucinations? Did Bucky just propose to you?

Bucky got on his knees. “Let’s get married.”

You still haven’t come to your senses. Bucky started talking again. “Think about it. Both of us have known each other for a long time. We’ve known each other's likes and dislikes. We’ve been through many things together.”

He’s right. He’s the safest choice if you want to marry someone. You shrugged your shoulders and accepted his hand. “Alright.”

Bucky's beautiful smile appeared on his face. Before he shook your hand, he felt you slightly pull his hand. When you saw him smile, your heart raced. “But, if in the end, we don’t like each other, please wait after three years, then we could get a divorce.”

Bucky chuckled; his attractiveness is not just in his physical appearance but also in his ability to manage his emotions gracefully and restraintfully. He leaned closer to you, and his hands gently grabbed your chin. 

As his calloused hand touched your skin, a subtle warmth spread on your cheeks. You could feel you're blushing. “Silly girl, it will never happen.”

#######

[Bucky P.O.V]

Then he rests your arms on his. “Then you have the excuse to skip the tournament.”

“Hmm?”

“We should inform this first to His Majesty and Her Majesty.”

“Oh, right.” You nodded, then looked straight into his blue eyes again. “This soon?”

********

When both of you walk through the hallway to meet the King and Queen, Bucky tries his best to calm down. He almost lost his common sense when he saw you write another man's name, and there’s a word of ‘potential husband.’

He looks at you and thinks ‘his silly princesses didn’t realize his feelings for her.’ 

Didn’t she know he declined the offer to be a knight so he could be her guard?

If he became a knight, he would work with her second brother. That’s the last thing he wants to do. 

“So, Bucky, don’t worry about money. When I resign as a princess, the kingdom will give us money.”

Bucky chuckled, seeing his sweet princess worried about their future, “That’s so sweet of you. But you don’t need to worry about that.” He gently patted her arms. He wants to tell you that he owns the famous casino in this kingdom and 5-star hotel chains in a few countries.

When both of you are married, Bucky will ensure you don’t have to work anymore. He is pretty sure that her parents will give their blessings even though he’s a commoner (and he’s super rich). The royal family has outdated rules, but because of it, he could marry you. 

Both of you arrived at the king's office room. The guards bowed their heads to greet you. Then you said, “Princesses Y/N and her guard. Wait… and her future husband, James Barnes wants to meet the king.”

The guards and the butler who opened the door lost their composure. They should have known from your body language walking here together hand in hand when usually Bucky always stands behind you. 

This news is shocking compared to the crown prince, who got caught partying too hard and the second prince, who had a messy love life before he got married. 

It seems like your father, the King, hears your voice. Before the castle butler tells him, you hear the gentle voice, “Come in.”

########

[2 years later]

<Former Princess of Zylovia Y/N, blessed with male twins>

It's the biggest headline in the country after you gave birth. You feel overwhelmed; you can't believe that you're parents now. 

The King and Queen hold your oldest son, while Bucky has the youngest son in his arms. 

Bucky's eyes are full of love, looking both at his sons. He was almost scared to death since you gave birth one month early. But the doctor assured both of you this is normal since you're pregnant with twins. 

Even though you're not a princess, you're still surrounded by your family. 

And Bucky still treats you like a princess. You almost lost your mind when he told you his business, which turned into your parents, and your brothers already know it, too. 

You want to knock your head; you didn't even know Bucky's business helped increase the country's GDP. 

Everyone said Bucky was the lucky guy to marry the former princess, but they were wrong. It's you who is lucky to marry him.

-End-

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[huffelpuff210]

Taken Care of Part 2 Soft Dark Steve Rogers x Soft Dark Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warning: Mentions of depression, Loss of a child, Dark themes, Forced marriage, forced relationship, forced pregnancy, baby trapping, age gap, Non, Con, Manipulation, Grooming, 

After much yelling and crying at the two super soliders to leave, you are now sandwiched between them in bed, this was not uncommon especially when you had to go with them on a mission to decrypt something when Tony wasn’t available, Natasha always called them your guard dogs, 

They were both fast asleep, You were wide awake, not able to sleep, 

You can’t remember the last time you slept. Your back was pressed against Steve’s chest while Bucky’s arm is over your hip, 

You sighed slowly peeling Bucky’s arm off you, You crawl out of bed quietly, tip toeing out of the room, You just didn’t have the heart to wake the two. 

You make your way to the kitchen, passing the nursery, slowly opening the door, the room was decorated with blue walls, a white crib, a mobile with wales on it, a blue nursing chair, a gray dresser and changing table, 

You place your hand over your mouth, tears welling up your eyes closing the door before you had another shut down, you walk towards the bathroom popping a few pills, they were depression pills it was bad enough to lose your child but having post part-om depression is the worst of it, because you don’t even get to hold your child, You grip the edge of the sink feeling like you couldn’t breath, You were having a panic attack

You couldn’t breath you felt like someone was cutting off your oxygen, You slide down the wall trying to catch your breath, you felt like someone was choking you, this was always happening, 

suddenly you felt and arm around you, 

“Shh, Kitten breathe..” He says

You hear Bucky’s voice 

“Deep breaths, in and out.” He says his hand rubbing your arm, 

“You don’t have to be here.” you say, 

“of course we do.” Steve walks in, 

They pull you to your feet, 

“You are suffering and we are not just going to stand by.” Steve says 

He rubs his hands up and down your arms.

Bucky was now behind you his lips on your neck, 

You try to push them away, but they are strong, and won’t budge, 

“W-What are you-” You say your hands against Steve’s chest. 

“We’re gonna make you happy.” Bucky says 

“W-Wait we’re friends.” You say in a panic

“Yes we are, and we’re done waiting for you to realize you are perfect for us.” Steve says 

You cannot believe what they were saying, 

“You have been broken enough by losers, Let us show you what a real man is, not one who abandons you when you get knocked up, Not one who makes you lose a child because of stress, no, no, A man supports his girl.” Bucky says as his lips trail down your neck from behind, his hands firmly on your hips, Steve on the other hand has his hand roaming up the inside of your tank top, 

“A man loves her no matter what.” Steve says kissing the other side of your neck, You try not to give into them, but it almost felt as if your senses were coming to life. 

“W-Wait..” You try to speak but a moan escapes your lips as Steve’s hand twists your breast, 

Steve’s lips capture yours in a possessive kiss, it felt as if he was sucking the air out of your lungs, Your hands still on Steve’s chest suddenly fist his shirt as he kisses you harder while Bucky is still attacking your neck, 

Bucky’s hand slips inside your pajama pants and past your panties, slipping past your wet folds, 

“God she’s wet Steve.” Bucky whispers nipping at your earlobe 

Steve finally releasing you from the possessive kiss, smiles down at you, 

“You will never have to worry about pain again, or loss we will take care you doll.” Steve says as he has your chin in his grip, 

“But-” You began, 

“It wasn’t a request kitten, you are ours now, no exceptions, we have waited for far too long.” Bucky says as his fingers pump in and out of you causing you to lose whatever argument you had as your head is thrown back into Bucky’s shoulder, the pleasure coursing through you,

And you feel the wave of pleasure come crashing down on you as you Cum hard, Bucky pulls his fingers out of you bringing them to his lips, 

“Mmm, you taste better than I imagined kitten.” He says 

“I can’t wait any longer,” Steve says scooping you up in his arms taking you back to your bedroom, laying you on your bed, hovering over you, 

“Take your shirt off now.” He says in a commanding voice you look over at Bucky  who just smiles and nods at you telling you to do as you are told, 

You shakily take your tank top off revealing your black laced bra

Steve’s hand slowly roaming from your stomach to your breasts, 

“Mmm, just as beautiful as I imagined.” He says in a low voice, 

“Are you ready to please your husbands?” He asks, 

“But your not my-” You began, 

He cuts you off by placing his index finger on your lips, 

“Not yet but soon enough.” He says kissing your belly, and making his way up, 

“We’ll take care of you.” He says 

He quickly unclasps your bra throwing it on the floor, 

You try to push him away, 

“S-Stop.” You say 

Steve quickly pins your hands by each side of your head, 

“We are not going to stop, you are ours now kitten.” Bucky says you feel him pull your Pajama pants off along with your panties, The bikini cut from your C-Section now a scar, knowing they see it, 

You turn your head trying to hold your tears, 

“Don’t worry doll, you are beautiful.” Steve kisses the side of your neck before, wrapping his mouth around your breast you bite your lip trying not to egg them on, 

And suddenly you can feel Bucky between your legs, His talented tongue enter your folds, you arch your back, squeezing Steve’s laced fingers, 

“That loser never made you feel this good did he?” Steve asked his blue eyes shimmering in the moonlight, 

You didn’t understand what was happening, they never behaved like this before, Suddenly you felt two fingers enter you and you arched your back letting out a gasp, 

“That’s it kitten give in.” Bucky says 

“N-No, Stop,” You gasp

“Really? Because you body says differently.” Steve says with a chuckle, 

Suddenly you feel the pressure it was all becoming too much, between, Bucky’s tongue and fingers, and Steve’s mouth on your breast, you felt yourself losing control, you could feel yourself clamp around Bucky’s fingers, 

“That’s it Kitten, cum for us.” Bucky says and suddenly you feel yourself cum hard, you let out a loud moan, 

“Mmm, I enjoyed that kitten,” Bucky says 

smirking from between your legs, Steve still had your hands pinned beside your head you see Bucky get up and quickly undress, it wasn’t a secret that both soliders had magnificent bodies, 

Steve lets go of your hands, to undress you try to get up to make a run for it But Bucky was already restraining you, 

“No running kitten we are just getting started.” Bucky says as he has you pinned, 

“You ready?” He says 

You shake your head no you didn’t want this, Bucky grabs both of your thighs lining himself up and slowly pushing himself in, You gasp at the intrusion, He was bigger than anything you’ve had before, thicker, he kept inching himself in, until he bottomed out, You didn’t realize you were holding your breath until Steve was kneeling beside you, 

“Breathe doll.” Steve says petting your head, 

You do as he says, 

“How does she feel?” Steve asks, 

“God, Fucking amazing, she so damn tight.” Bucky grunts, 

Bucky pulls almost out completely and slams back into you causing you to let out a loud moan, arching your back at how rough he was being, 

His hands squeezing your thighs knowing you were going to have bruises, Bucky continued his rough and fast pace, grunting and groaning as he continued to slam into you, You could see Steve, Pumping himself with his hand watching the scene, You couldn’t believe this was happening they were your best friends, and now they were doing this to you, 

“God, I can’t wait to see you full with our children.” Bucky grunted, 

This caused you to freeze, Shaking your head no, 

“No, Please.” You say trying to get him off of you, but he pinned you to the bed by your throat, 

“Yes, you are perfect for us.” Steve grunts still pumping himself, 

“We will take care of you and the children,” Bucky says grunting, 

You can feel the pressure building, squeezing him tightly, 

“That’s it kitten Cum for me.” He says continuing his hard and fast brutal pace, And you feel yourself Cum hard again, arching your back as you let out a loud, Moan, 

A few hard and fast thrusts and You feel Bucky Cum inside of you, feeling the tears welling up in your eyes, He pulls out of you and you are about to get up when You are flipped on your Stomach, And Steve has you by the hips, 

“My turn.” He says his voice almost feral

[veltana]

Realization - Mafia AU prequels - Stucky

✦ Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Stucky/Fem!Reader ✦ Word count: ~1.6k ✦ Rating: Explicit ✦ Warnings/tags: smut, top!bucky, bottom!steve, hurt/comfort, unrequited love/crush, angst, lots of fluff and feels, blow job, anal sex. ✦ Summary: There is a strange sting in Steve's chest, it began burning when you skipped in the door, showing off the diamond on your finger. It feels unreal. Not that someone would want to marry you, because you’re lovely, but that you’re getting married to someone else. ✦ Note: This is a prequel to No one as sweet as you set while they were living together in college, which focuses on their growing relationship and how Bucky and Steve started to develop feelings for Sweets as more than just their best friend. You don't need to read No one as sweet as you to get this but I recommend it. (Also posted on AO3) Series masterlist

Main masterlist | AO3

Steve waves goodbye with a smile and closes the door softly behind you, then leans his head against it and lets out a breath. Bucky's hand lands on his shoulder, squeezing it. "She's happy," Bucky whispers, trying to hide the pain in his voice. Pushing away from the door, Steve nods but he can’t help but feel like half of his heart just left.

"She's engaged," Steve mumbles as he walks back to the living room and sits down on the couch, grabbing what’s left of the whiskey and downing it.

There is a strange sting in Steve's chest, it began burning when you skipped in the door, showing off the diamond on your finger. It feels unreal. Not that someone would want to marry you, because you’re lovely, but that you’re getting married to someone else.

Confused, he turns to Bucky and without a word the other man reaches for him, pulling him into a tight hug meant for comfort and support. They rarely say anything out loud, but all of Bucky’s love is in the hug.

Steve might not have realized it sooner but Bucky has known for years that there would only be two people for him and that is you and Steve, but he's kept it to himself, mainly because you've been in a long-term relationship since right after college and because Steve has always seemed happy for you.

Bucky is happy for you too, of course. He's happy when you're happy and tonight you glowed, proudly displaying the ring your boyfriend had placed on your finger two nights before. You beamed as you described the candles, petals, and wonderful words he'd told you.

The happiness and bottomless despair had mixed in Bucky's chest like a vortex, threatening to cause a scene where he would spew out all of his doubts and he didn't want that for you. He is your best friend and will support you through the whole marriage, just so he can stay by your side.

Steve's fingers grip Bucky's shirt. "Why am I not happy for her?" he questions loudly and Bucky can only say, "Because you love her," gently. "Of course I love her,” Steve pulls away, raking his fingers through his hair. “She's our best friend, she's like the most amazing person I know and she's getting married and I'm not happy…" he trails off, meeting Bucky's knowing eyes.

"Oh," Steve just says and Bucky nods, leaning back against the cushions. "How long have you…?" He doesn't say the words but Bucky knows what he means. "Remember when she dated Loki?" Steve nods and Bucky shrugs. "Right around that time.”

Steve feels like Bucky has grown two heads. He is so casual about the whole thing while it feels like Steve's insides are drowning in black tar. "How do you…?" "Bare it?" Bucky raises an eyebrow and when Steve nods he continues. "Well, I just tried to be there for her when she needed me. I didn’t want to push anything since she clearly said she wanted to stay away from relationships after Loki. And then you know, dad passed, and I started down this line of work together with you, and she met him," he shrugs again. "I would rather live with the pain than without the two of you in my life."

Steve's eyes search Bucky's for a moment. "You'll always have me," he states, making Bucky smile. "And every day I am grateful for that," he says in a low voice, gently grabbing Steve's chin and kissing him.

Steve loves kissing Bucky, it's like coming home to a warm fire after wading through cold mud. The kiss quickly turns heavy and Steve starts pulling on Bucky’s clothes. Withdrawing, Bucky strokes his cheek. “What do you need?” “I don’t know,” Steve confesses.

Bucky nods and moves his hand to the back of Steve’s head, fisting the hair and pulling his head back slightly. “You just do as I say, okay?” “Okay,” Steve answers, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows, eyes already calmer.

They don’t use titles like sir or master or anything like that, it’s never been their thing, but Bucky knows just what Steve needs at a time like this. And if it was the other way around, Steve would do the same for him.

“Good, who do you belong to Steve?” “You, Bucky,” he quickly answers. “And?” “Sweets,” his voice is pained. "Good Steve," Bucky praises and sees Steve’s shoulders relax more. “Now get on the floor and suck my dick.”

Steve goes and it feels so good to not have to make any decisions and just focus on Bucky. In the back of his head, he knows he’s going to have to deal with his feelings for you later, but right now he just wants any relief he can get.

He opens up Bucky’s pants and takes his cock out, not hesitating a second before swallowing him down. Bucky’s fingers tangles in Steve’s hair, moving his head up and down, his own tipped back against the couch, moaning. "Just like that. Your mouth feels so good, Steve. Fuck, you’re so good at this."

He hums in appreciation, taking Bucky as deep as he can, letting his tongue caress the length, focusing on giving him all the pleasure he can. Steve's own dick is painfully hard but he knows better than to do anything about it, and he knows Bucky will take care of him.

"I'm going to come down your throat," Bucky warns, giving him the option to stop, but he doesn't. A few deep swallows later and Bucky is shooting down his throat, a groan of Steve's name leaving his mouth in the process.

Steve pulls off and swallows dutifully. Bucky's hand strokes the side of his face. "Clothes off," he demands quietly and in moments Steve is naked, kneeling on the floor. Bucky stands up, slowly losing his clothing, revealing the body Steve has seen hundreds of times but never gets tired of looking at.

It's hard to keep himself going slow. Steve looks so pretty and helpless on the floor in front of him, Bucky wants to push him down and fuck him hard and fast. But he knows he needs to drag this out for Steve's sake, let him out of his head as long as Bucky can manage.

That's why he holds Steve's gaze as he undresses, keeping him right in the moment. He sits back down when he's done, his cock not yet hard again, but he knows how to remedy that.

"Get the lube and get up here," he commands and Steve scrambles, still on his knees to get the lube hidden in a drawer in the coffee table, before crawling onto the couch and straddling Bucky.

Steve's not a small man and Bucky has to crane his neck to look up at him. He takes the lube in one hand, coating his fingers generously before reaching back behind Steve. "Ah, Buck!" Steve's voice is honey and Bucky can't help but smile as he slowly starts to work Steve open.

"Hold onto me," he instructs and Steve's hands grasp his shoulders. Bucky's other hand goes to Steve's cock, lazily stroking it.

"So good for me. Always so good," he murmurs as Steve takes another finger. Trembles start going through his body and Bucky lets his cock go, knowing that keeping Steve on edge will only help him. The grip Steve has is bruising, his mouth hanging open, and small pants fall continuously from his lips. It makes Bucky smile, knowing he is making him feel better. Feel good even.

"Buck," Steve pleads in a whisper, eyes tightly closed. "I don't know if you're ready Stevie," Bucky teases and works the third finger in. With a growl, Steve grabs the lube and reaches down to Bucky's cock, which is hard once again. As soon as Steve's slick fist grabs him he moans loudly.

"Yes, fuck, you’re ready. Only teasing, dammit," Bucky groans and withdraws his fingers, wiping them on a blanket nearby. Before he is done Steve has positioned himself and starts sinking down.

Their moans fill the room quickly. It's a pleasure to watch Steve's muscled body move, in any way, but especially like this. The sweat is making him shine, looking like a god.

"You're taking me so well. So perfect. Fuck you're beautiful," Bucky tells him and grabs his cock. He needs Steve to finish first and his own orgasm is approaching too quickly. "Gonna need you to come for me Steve," he says. "Paint us with your cum and let me fill you up."

Steve lets Bucky's voice carry him, doing as he's told and angling his hips, getting the thick cock just right. "That's it," Bucky praises. Steve tips his head back as the feeling climbs until he finally reaches the peak. Bucky is seconds behind him.

The only downside to Steve being just as tall and broad as Bucky is that Bucky can’t pick him up and carry him. Instead, he settles on pulling Steve into him, holding him tightly, and kissing the skin where he can reach. Steve’s hammering heart and panting breath slow after a while and he sags into Bucky.

"I am so fucking stupid," he murmurs. The reprieve Bucky created for him is over and now it’s all coming back quickly. "How did I not understand this earlier?" "Feelings are complicated, Steve. But we’re going to get through this, I promise.” “I love you, Bucky.” It’s not something they tell each other often, but it feels important to say it now, more than ever. “I love you, Steve. And Sweets do too.”

prev

[inmyicyworld]

My everything

Summary: The last thing that Bucky ever expected to see was the love of his life from the past trapped in one of the Hydra bunkers in the cryofreeze chamber. Yet here he was almost two days later, staring at your still unconscious body through the window at the medical wing, imagining the horror and disgust on your face when you found out that he was no longer the innocent and happy boy you knew before.

Words count: 6.8k

Warnings: I fucked up the whole timeline sorry, no civil war and no infinity war in my world, avengers live in their tower as a family, my baby Bucky has a lot of issues and regrets, lots of feelings, happy ending as always.

Author’s note: one of my works hit more than 1,000 notes and i’m so so so grateful to every single person who supported me.

I had this idea for a while, and I finally decided to write because I had barely seen any works with this plot. if y’all like it, might as well write the second part with smut🥰

*English is not my first language, sorry if you find any mistakes*

masterlist my ao3 ko-fi

“Aren't you fucking tired of this?” Bucky growled as he burst into the common room where Sam, Steve, and Natasha were sitting. "If you set me up on another date, Wilson, I'll break your fucking wings."

Sam rolled his eyes and said, "Calm down, cyborg. Look at you, all angry and stressed out; you need to get laid! When was the last time you’ve been on a date?"

Steve raised his eyebrows in surprise as he glanced between his two friends.

"Sit down, Barnes." Nat nodded her head at the couch across from her. Bucky hesitated for a few seconds, as too many feelings were bubbling inside of him, but he obeyed and sat down, crossing his arms over his chest. “Now explain what happened.”

 "This idiot is trying to set me up again.” He said, nodding towards Sam. "And I told you I'm not interested."

 “But why? Don't you want to feel like back in the days and have some fun with pretty women? This Hydra shit clearly wasn’t good for you. You’re too tense and always mad. Go on a date, maybe you’ll find a good girl to spend some time with.” Sam genuinely wanted to help his friend, and he didn’t understand why Bucky was so mad about it.

The look on Bucky’s face was weird. Like he wanted to say something but, at the same time, didn’t want to share his thoughts. 

“Are you already dating someone?” Natasha leaned with her elbows on her knees and studied his face. There was definitely something that Bucky didn’t want to say.

Steve looked between the three of his friends, and when Nat asked Bucky a question, it was like a bulb turned on in his head.

 "Buck…" Bucky met Steve's eyes, holding eye contact for a few seconds, like they were talking about something that only they knew.

 “Hey!” Sam said, waving his hands. “What are you two doing? Do you know something, Rogers?”

 “Buck, is it because of her?” The blonde said it almost in a whisper. “You still remember, right?”

“Did you have a girlfriend before the war?” Natasha, as always, understood everything immediately, and it was funny to see how Sam’s mouth fell open in shock.

Bucky clenched and unclenched his hands in his lap, not sure if he should reveal the truth. He had kept it to himself for so long—ever since he escaped Hydra and the memories from the past started to flood his head. It was too painful to think about you. To think about the woman who was his whole life many years ago. He remembered everything, and now he sees you in his dreams almost every night. Sometimes in nightmares, sometimes in the good ones, about the life that you two would’ve had if he hadn’t gone to war.

“What the hell are you hiding from us?” Sam shouted again, trying to get attention.

 “I…” Bucky frowns, staring at his hands. “I had a girlfriend... before the army, before the Hydra.” He closed his eyes and tried to control his breathing. Just the thought of you hurt him, making him regret everything. That he left, that he didn’t marry you, and that the universe had this shitty plan.

 “And that’s why you don’t want to go out with someone?” Come on, man, how long has it been?  80 years? Get over it. It must have been another one of your girlfriends that you hooked up with when you were young.” He chuckled, looking between his friends, none of whom seemed happy with his choice of words.

 "Sam, don't—"

“You sound like an asshole.” 

 “Get over it?” Bucky didn’t let Steve or Nat finish their sentences before he barked at Sam, looking even more angry than before. “Just another one of my girlfriends? Do you have any idea what the fuck you're talking about, Wilson? " He looked like he was ready to kick his friend right in the face. “She wasn’t one of them. In fact, there was no “them”. In my entire life, I’ve never even touched another woman because I've been in love with Y/N since I was 14. We started dating when I turned 18, and I proposed before I had to go to the war.”

Bucky’s emotions quickly changed as the hot rage turned into a longing for memories and feelings. He felt a lump in his throat, so he reached into his pocket for his wallet, from which he pulled out your old and shabby photo, gently running his finger over your face.

“Y/N was everything to me. She said yes, and I promised her that I would return so we could get married. I imagined that I would spend my whole life with her, you know? I don't need any other woman. I do not want it. I still love her, and I don't care if either of you find it funny.

The room fell into heavy silence. Steve just looked out the window, remembering the times when the three of you went to Coney Island, and he was always the third wheel. You were his friend too, and the aching feeling in his chest was too heavy.

Sam felt a little bit awkward after saying these things about your relationships. He wanted to tease Bucky, not be rude.

Natasha was the one who took the first step when she stretched the arm so Bucky would give her the photo. “You two look so cheesy. She’s really gorgeous.” She smirked, looking at the old black-and-white photo of you two sitting on the bench. Your back was almost lying on Bucky’s body, and his arms were wrapped around you. It seemed like you were talking about something and enjoying the private moment. Bucky had the biggest smile Natasha has ever seen on his face, as he was looking at you with heart eyes.

 “Can I see?” Sam finally asked, nodding at the photograph in Natasha's hands. She passed him the photo and Bucky’s move in his place, feeling a little bit uncomfortable about revealing this part of his life. 

“You two look cute. Weird to see a smile on your face.” Sam chuckled.

“Where did you find this photo?” Steve leaned closer to the picture, immediately remembering the day you and Bucky took it and the way Bucky has had it with him ever since.

 “I took it to the war. Always had it in a jacket, even on missions. She was with me that day on the train. I think Hydra found this in my pocket. When I ran away from there, I found a box with my stuff; the photo was there.”

 “Have you… tried to find something about her?” Steve lifted his head, studying his friend's reaction.

 “Yeah,” Bucky sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “I don’t know how, but I didn’t find anything. Two years after my fall, there was no record of her. No marriage certificate, no place of residence, no place of work. Nothing. Like she just disappeared.” He shook his head in despair. 

 “But it's impossible.” Steve frowned, giving the photo back. “A person can't just disappear and leave nothing behind.”

 "I don't know," Bucky shrugged, looking back at the photo for a second and then slipping it back into his wallet. "Maybe it's for the best. I don't know how I would come to terms with the news of her death.”

It’s been almost two weeks since that conversation, and luckily for Bucky, Sam didn’t attempt to set him up with anyone anymore.

Earlier that day, Tony announced that his new technology had spotted some weird activity in something that looked like an old and hidden Hydra base. It was pretty much abandoned, but there were signs of small energy consumption, as if something was still constantly working. That’s why the team of Bucky, Steve, Sam, and Tony had to check it out and destroy any possible danger.

After being free from Hydra, Bucky didn’t take part in many missions because the team agreed that it would be better for him to heal and stay far away from triggers. But this base brought up many concerns: it was hidden far away, there was no information about it in nonofficial papers, and even Bucky himself had never heard about it. Tony insisted that someone with knowledge of the Hydra system should go there too.

When the four of them arrived on the quinjet at something that looked like a well-hidden abandoned bunker, they decided not to split up and go through the main and only entrance.

“Be careful; we don’t know that they might hide in here.” Steve said, going in first with a shield in front of him. Bucky and Sam went after him, holding rifles and checking the big and almost empty room.

“They should clean in here, kinda dusty.” Tony chuckled in his usual playful voice. 

“It’s not a good time for your jokes, Stark.” Steve was always a little too serious during missions, and Tony really liked pushing his buttons. “I see the light in the other room.” He whispered, carefully opening the door. 

“Holy shit.” Sam and Tony spoke at the same time when all four of them entered the giant room.

There were five big glass machines that were a little bit foggy and had a little lightning in them.

“What is this?” Steve ran closer to one of them and saw that there was a man inside. “Oh my god, there is a man in here... It looks like he’s alive.”

“There is a folder called “The Winter Soldier Program” with personal information.” Sam said, picking up a file from the shelf in the corner of the room. “George Harris, 27 from New York. Kathleen Hill, 21 from New York…” He read, mumbling to himself.

“It’s a cryostasis chamber. Hydra used it to freeze me.” Bucky lowered his rifle, coming closer to one of the chambers. Another man. “It lowers your body temperature to the point that you can be kept like that for many years. Hydra– “ Bucky went silent when he got to another glass camera. 

“Barnes? Why is there—” Sam didn’t finish his words when the sound of Bucky’s weapon falling on the cold concrete filled the room. 

“No-no-no, please, no!” He whispered, moving closer to the glass. He couldn’t believe what he saw. 

You were right in front of him, with closed eyes and too pale skin. That was impossible. It’s not you. There was no chance that you somehow ended up with Hydra. 

Bucky felt like he was unable to breathe. He tried to inhale some air, but the lump in his throat was too big. The tears blurred his vision; he didn’t hear anything around him, as your almost lifeless body was the only thing that he thought about. You, his sweet girl, somehow ended up trapped with monsters, and he couldn’t do anything to save you from it. 

“Bucky!” Two pairs of hands dragged him from the chamber, and the blurry vision of his best friend was now visible in front of him. “Bucky, listen to me! You should calm down, buddy. Just breathe, okay?” Steve deeply inhaled and exhaled to help Bucky, and after a few minutes, he was finally able to speak.

“T-that’s impossible, Steve. She shouldn’t be there! She should’ve found another man and lived a happy life with her family!” He said in a shaking voice, angrily wiping away tears from his face. 

“I don’t know how this happened, Buck; I really don’t. But she may be alive there.” Steve supportively squeezed Bucky’s shoulder. 

“We can’t just take these people out. We should transport them to the tower and find the safest way to unfreeze them.” Tony said in a serious voice, not joking around anymore. He walked closer to the chambers, studying each of them. “It looks like they are working on their own power, and this one, “he pointed at the one that was dark and with water drops from the inside. “Doesn’t work anymore. The man is probably dead.” 

“Are there any chances of getting them out of there alive?” Sam glared at Bucky, who was just staring at your peaceful but haggard face through the glass.

“I don’t know, but me and Banner will do everything we can.”

It took another day to find a way to move four of the still-working chambers to the compound and ten more hours to defrost everyone. and to say that Bucky was completely stressed out and exhausted was an understatement. He didn’t sleep at all, staying in the room near the lab to get all the news as soon as possible. He walked around the room for hours, overthinking everything—what will happen if you die or if you survive? Is it really better for you to wake up and see all the damage that he has done for the past years? To see the empty shell of the person you loved in the past?

“Barnes!” Tony blasted through the doors with a grin on his face. “We did it.”

“You did it?” Bucky’s whole body was buzzing with energy and anxiety. “Where is she? Is she alive? Is she conscious? Can I see her?”

“Wow-wow, calm down. She is alive, but you can’t see or visit her right now. Dr. Cho has to run many tests to find out whether your lovebird is healthy or not.” Tony nodded his head toward the corridor so Bucky would follow him. “We put each of them into a different room, and your Blonde Bestie insisted on putting Y/N into the best and the biggest one. There is a special window through which you can see her, but she cannot see you from the inside. So you can be as creepy as you want to until she gets better.” Stark slapped Bucky on the shoulder to show some kind of support when they stopped in front of the said window. 

You were lying on the bed, surrounded by too many wires and monitors. Dr. Cho was standing above you, writing something down, and checking the device near your head.

She said something aloud, probably talking to FRIDAY, and came out of the room. 

“Oh, Mr.Barnes, I heard that Y/N was your girlfriend, right?” She smiled, and Bucky slightly nodded, not being able to completely drag his attention from your body. “I’ll tell you this: it’s my most difficult and unique case, but she’s a strong one. Her body heals faster than other people’s from cryo. I believe she’ll be fully awake tomorrow.” 

“Thank you, Dr.Cho.” Bucky felt a little bit better now that he had more hope that you could really be back. Dr.Cho gave him another smile and left to check on her other patients. 

“I have to find out if these people have families. Did Y/N have someone who might be alive?” Tony asked. 

“No, she didn’t.”

“I’ll go, and you, Barnes, will stay away from her for now, understood?” He pointed a finger into Bucky’s face. 

“Yes. I’ll just watch from here.” 

You were alive. You were awake. Bucky saw with his own eyes as your body started moving and you slowly sat on the bed, confused by your surroundings. He saw panic on your face because you were clearly disoriented and scared to be alone in an unknown place. 

As fast as he could, he found Dr. Cho, who was in the room with Steve and Natasha. When he, choking on all the emotions, told them about you, it was a mess. 

Dr. Cho and a few other nurses ran to your room to check your condition because you were the first one to open their eyes.

Bucky, Steve, and Nat stood on the other side of the window. Bucky wasn’t able to fully convince himself that it was true that he was so close to him. It felt like a dream, like a weird picture that his brain created to comfort him. 

“She’s okay, Buddy.” Steve placed a hand on Bucky’s shoulder because it seemed like he didn’t even blink or breathe. “You can see her soon.”

“No.” He mumbled.

“What?” His friend’s head shot in his direction.

“Someone else should talk to her first. Tell her about my past. Maybe she won’t even want to see me after everything I’ve done.”

“I can go and talk to her first.” Natasha softly smiled. She knew the feeling when you’re afraid that someone will leave you because of your past. “I think it’s better for Y/N to first find out that she woke up in the new century and that she was cryofrozen for many years. I’ll tell her that Steve is alive, and then me and you can both tell her about Bucky.” 

Bucky just nodded to her words, still not being able to look at anything besides you. He wasn’t sure that after you find out all the truth, you’ll allow him to even be around you, so for now, he tried to memorize you as much as he could. 

Since the moment you opened your eyes, everything felt unknown and different. You couldn’t explain it, but something had changed. You didn’t know where you were, what time it was, how you ended up in that place, or who all these people were. You felt scared as too many doctors crowded your room and fussed around, talking about tests and medical procedures. 

The young woman who seemed to be in charge was actually really sweet. After only you and her were left in the room, she sat on your bed with a pile of clothes in her hands and smiled at you. 

“So, Y/N, my name is Dr. Cho, and I’m here to help you heal faster and without any consequences.” 

“Where am I?” Your voice was too raspy and harsh. It felt like you swallowed a glass of sand. 

She sighed, looking at her journal. “It’s hard to explain, but I promise that there’s nothing to worry about. You are safe. In a few minutes, someone will visit you to talk about everything and answer any of your questions. Now, I was told to give you these clothes so it would be more comfortable for you. You can change in the bathroom right there; there is also anything you might need like a toothbrush, soap, and so on.” She pointed at the door in the corner of the room. 

You stayed silent until Dr. Cho left your room, and then slowly, feeling kind of scared to move around this place, you went to the bathroom to change out of the hospital gown. 

The bathroom looked even weirder than the main room; you had never seen such furniture and interiors. And when you unfolded your new clothes, it took you a few seconds to figure it out. It was some kind of soft pants and a large t-shirt. What kind of clothes was it? Yes, they were actually comfortable, but it wasn’t something that you saw in the stores. 

While you were brushing your teeth, your brain was working too hard trying to figure out what the hell was going on, until you heard someone calling your name. 

“Hey, Y/N, my name is Natasha.” The pretty red-headed woman was standing near your bed with a tray and food in her hands. 

“Please, tell me what’s going on. Where am I? Why does everything look so strange here?” You said in a desperate voice, you almost wanted to scream because you woke up several hours ago, but no one told you a single thing.

“Don’t be nervous, honey. Let's sit on the bed; you’ll eat your special meal, and I’ll tell you everything you want.” She was so nice and genuine, so you nodded and sat down. 

Natasha placed a tray near you, and you saw that it was your favorite food of all time. You took a bite, and your taste buds were immediately filled with the taste of the meal that James cooked you almost every day. James. It was his recipe. The tears flooded your eyes when all of the memories about your dead boyfriend returned to your head. Yeah, how could you forget that it had been at least two years since he was gone? 

“Y/N? What happened?” Natasha’s worried voice distracted you. 

“It just reminded me of someone. I felt like I was home, and it hurts me because nothing is the same anymore.” You wiped your tears away, taking another bite. 

“I promise you that everything is going to be okay. You are not alone here.” You frowned at her words but still nodded. “So ask whatever you want to.” 

“Where am I, and why does everything look so different?”

“You are at the Avengers Tower, located in Manhattan, New York City. I know that might sound ridiculous, but you were in the cryostasis chamber up until now. It’s 2023, and a lot of things have changed in the world; that's why it might be confusing.”

You stayed silent for a few seconds, overthinking Natasha’s words. “It can’t be true. I can’t be more than one hundred years old now. And I look the same.” 

“This is how cryostasis works—iit freezes the body so it can survive many years without any changes. Now tell me how you ended up with Hydra. What is the last thing you remember before waking up here?” 

“Back in the 40s, I was a nurse. My– my boyfriend— he died during the war.” You stopped because of the lump in your throat. It was too hard to bring back these memories because it was the first time you said these words out loud. “He died, and then my closest friend died too, and I just had no one left. I was alone, and I didn’t even know what to live for because all of my dreams about family and a happy life with the person I loved died too.” Natasha put her hand over yours on the bed and gave you a supportive squeeze. “Then one day in our hospital, scientists were looking for people who would like to test new serums. I decided that I had nothing to lose, so me and a few other nurses signed in.” 

“Kathleen, Josh, Adam, and Frank, right?” The woman in front of you gave you a sad smile.

“Yes, how do you know that?” 

“We found them with you. Adam’s camera was broken, so he died a long time ago, but the rest of them are here too, but, unfortunately, they haven’t regained consciousness yet.” 

You nodded. Your food was now done and set aside, and you sat on the bed more comfortably, bringing your knees to your chest. “These scientists were running some tests on us in the lab that they brought us in. It felt weird, and I remember that Kathleen always complained that it was painful. The last thing that happened was that they told us to step into a weird-looking machine that was meant to be a part of some kind of experiment. That’s it.”

“It was Hydra. A terrorist organization that tried to rule the world. They were evil, and you were lucky to get out of there alive.” Natasha pursed her lips. “Thank you for telling me this.” 

You two sat in silence for a few seconds until she looked over her shoulder at the weird-looking mirror that took up almost a whole wall. 

“Is anything wrong?” You furrowed.

“I have to tell and show you something really important, but everyone is worried about how you are going to react to this.” She studied your face with a weird expression. 

“Is there anything more crazy than me being in another century after I was frozen?” You tried to smile, but Natasha just nodded. 

“I’ll be right back. Please, try to breathe, okay?” She stood from your bed, took the tray, and left. 

Natasha came back, and behind her was the last person you ever expected to see again. You jumped on your feet, feeling like your eyes were lying to you. 

“This—this can’t be true... No, Natasha—Steve, you died.” You mumbled under your breath. Your heart rate was way higher than usual, and it felt like you were drowning. You put your hand over your eyes. It’s just a dream. It’s just a weird fucking dream.

Two large hands wrapped around your body, pulling you into the hard chest. “Sh-s, Y/N, breathe, just breathe.” His familiar voice filled your ears, and you started crying harder, gripping his shirt. 

“What– how– how is this possible? You crushed the plane into ice.” You shattered, tears running down your face.

“The Super Soldier serum saved me. The S.H.I.E.L.D. found my body 12 years ago.” Steve loosened his arms around you, allowing you to look up at him. He was exactly the same. This blonde hair, these light blue eyes, and that soft smile that he always had for you. “Please, sit back on the bed. We have a lot to talk about.” His face was now more serious. Even though he was extremely happy to get back his second closest best friend, he knew that Bucky was dying without you.

Steve and Bucky both looked at your interaction with Natasha, and it was obvious that everything Bucky wanted was for you to be near him. He looked through that window without any distraction, and his face lit up with a small smile when you tasted the food that he cooked for you and became emotional. He knew that you would appreciate it.

“About what?” You wiped your face with the back of your hand and sat down, holding Steve's hand. Natasha, who was still standing in the middle of the room, passed him a thick folder and left. Steve sat near you and gave you a supportive smile. 

“Bucky.” 

You froze and snatched your hand out of his. 

“Steve, no. Please—” You wrapped your hands around your body, as if you were instantly trying to hide from the pain that was aching in your chest. “Please, don’t hurt me anymore. I can’t handle that. Talking about him w-when he’s not with me anymore.” The sods started to get out of you, and you hid your face from Steve’s soft and apologizing eyes.

“He is alive.” Steve’s hands fell on your shoulders, and he lowered his head, trying to make you look him in the eyes.

“Don’t lie to me! He is dead; I saw the reports; I got the letter from Phillips saying that he’s sorry for our loss!” You particularly yelled at your friend. 

“Y/N, listen to me, okay? Bucky is alive. He is here. Behind that door, he’s watching us right now.” You were shaking your head in denial. 

That was impossible. You knew all this story; Steve himself told you what happened that day. There was no chance for Bucky to survive the fall from that height in the middle of nowhere. Yet here was Steve, sitting right before you. His big blue and soft eyes were looking into your eyes, and you didn’t see a single sign of hesitation or lying in there. He was so genuine that you wanted to believe that your boyfriend was, in fact, a few meters away from you.

“How? And why? James– he would’ve been with me if he were alive. Why isn’t he here?” You sobbed, and then the realization came to you. “That food—the food that Natsha brought me. It tasted exactly like he made it.”

“Bucky thought that it might comfort you. He found you in that laboratory, he has been near you since that day, and he saw that you were scared and disoriented when you woke up. And that's why I am here. Bucky insisted that I should talk to you first and tell you everything. He is afraid that you might not see him anymore after finding out everything that is written here.” Steve picked up the folder and put it on your lap. 

“The Winter Soldier” was written on top of the old-looking piece of paper, and for some reason you felt something weird in your chest.

“I want to let you know that whatever is in here, it cannot make me hate him.” You mumbled, hesitating to open the folder. “What’s in there, Steve? Tell me everything.”

“These are the papers that S.H.I.E.L.D. and Hydra had on the Winter Soldier. Everything that happened to him: experiments, torture, assassinations, crimes. This is what happened to Bucky after the fall. This is what Hydra did to him over these years.” 

You felt a lump in your throat when you opened the first page and saw Bucky’s photo from the army. But nothing prepared you for everything you read and saw after that. He wasn’t even James or Bucky anymore. He was a Soldier. An Asset. Someone without an identity. All the detailed descriptions of the medical procedures, brainwashing, electroshock, torture, and punishments with attached photos made you want to vomit and cry hysterically. You couldn’t stop crying when your shaking hands took a picture of the love of your life sitting shirtless and unconscious on some kind of stool with wires attached to his head. 

How could someone do that? How could someone torture a person almost to death and then just write about it like it was a fucking dairy? 

“His arm, it’s metal. Why is it made from metal?” Your teary-red eyes shoot back to Steve’s face. 

“Bucky lost it during the fall. They gave him a new one, but it causes him a lot of pain. Physical and mental.”

“I don’t— Steve, I don’t understand.” You took another picture with Bucky standing in his full black costume and a mask, not a single emotion on his face. “Why did they do this? For what?” 

“Hydra wanted to have the perfect asset. Killing machine. To commit crimes, kill unwanted people, and basically rule the world.” Steve ran a hand through his hair, looking at the floor. “They made Bucky the best. They completely cleared his head from the memories of his past; they trained him to be invincible and invisible. They had a special combination of words to control him, so he would always come back and do as he was told.”

You closed the file and moved it aside, closing your face with your hands while you were crying.

“And he thinks that I can reject him?” You whispered.

“Y/N, please try to understand what such things can do to your brain. Bucky goes to therapy, but he probably would never be able to fully heal from this experience.” His hand fell on your shoulder and squeezed it slightly. “Bucky always was a good person; that's why right now he feels so much guilt that it’s unimaginable. Even if nothing of this is his fault, he can’t forgive himself for these murders and damage. He has PTSD, nightmares, and a lot of trust issues.”

“I understand, but I would’ve never rejected him. He’s everything that I had, and when I lost him, it felt like hell.” You took a deep breath, looking Steve in the eyes. “Please, let me see him. I need it, and he needs it too.” Steve’s eyes softened at you. He almost forgot the love that his two best friends had for each other. 

“Give me a minute, okay?” He smiled, kissed your head, and left your room, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

You were really going to see the man that you thought you had lost forever in a few seconds. It was almost three years for you, but almost eighty for him. A wave of anxiety washed over you when you thought that maybe he doesn’t feel the same anymore and doesn’t have the same feelings as you do. You almost went down a rabbit hole until the door started to open. 

You slowly stood up, feeling a little bit uneasy. Even though you and Steve were just talking about it, seeing Bucky alive felt unreal. Your eyes were sliding up and down his face to remember every little part. He looked different, more mature, with a broad chest and shoulders and long, silky hair. 

Bucky’s heart was pounding in his ears, and his mouth was completely dry while you were observing him. You had tears in your eyes, and your lower lip was trembling when you tried to hold yourself from crying out loud. You were in some baggy clothes that Nat found for you, but you still looked fucking gorgeous. Still the most beautiful girl on the whole planet. 

“Doll…” Bucky’s raspy voice filled the room, and it was everything you needed. 

In just a second, you ran to him, falling right into his body. Arms wrapped around his shoulders, and your face hidden into his neck. 

As soon as Bucky finally hugged your smaller body and felt that it was real and that you were real, he broke down. Every last piece of strength went through the window as the tears rolled down his cheeks, probably soaking your t-shirt.

He wanted to drop to his knees and beg for your forgiveness for all of the awful things that he had done. He didn’t deserve you anymore, not with this much blood on his hands. But Bucky couldn’t do what he wanted because your grip on him was so strong that he wasn’t even able to move away for an inch. 

“James…” Your quiet voice filled his ears, and it sent shivers down his spine. Only you and his ma called him that, and he missed it so fucking much.

Bucky’s hands moved from your waist a little bit lower, and you viewed it as an opportunity to get even closer. Your legs instantly wrapped around his body, and Bucky, making sure that you wouldn’t fall, went to the bed and sat down with you on his knees. 

“I’m so sorry... I’m so sorry for everything that I’ve done.” He sobbed, shaking his head. You pulled away a little bit, finally meeting Bucky face-to-face. 

“Don’t you dare apologize for the things that you weren’t able to control, James!” Your voice suddenly became rough, filled with so much anger toward the people who hurt your precious boy. His hand on your waist tightened, and you slid your own to cup Bucky’s face. “I want to kill every one of them. Everyone who hurt you, who punished you,” Soft fingertips traced the delicate skin of the templates where, as you remember from the photos, wires with electricity were placed. “You didn’t deserve to go through this, James. I wish I was there for you.” 

“You were always with me. Even when they wiped me, I still had someone in my head. A woman with a soft voice, who told me that I'm strong and that it will end soon. I would’ve died without it.” You both were looking into each other's teary eyes, both feeling too much love and desire. 

Your head slightly tilted towards his, connecting your foreheads, and for a few seconds, it felt like home. Like nothing happened and you two were just having a lazy morning in bed.

The calloused hand on the side of your face brought you back to reality. Bucky’s beautiful blue eyes were looking into yours, and, sharing one thought, you both moved closer and connected your lips. The kiss was so soft, slow, and gentle, like you had the whole time in the world. It was this type of kiss that said that you both were there and alive. It was a reminder of the love that you had for each other. Reassurance, that no matter what, you will be there.

“I missed you so fucking much, doll. Since the day I first remembered everything, all I could think about was you. Even tried to find you, but there was not a single document. I started to believe that you just found a man, changed your last name, and moved away from that mess.” You were so close to each other, not wanting to split up even for a second. Your hands were moving up and down Bucky’s hard chest while he was rubbing the soft skin of your cheek with his thumb.

“Are you joking, James? No one was able to replace you. The only people I talked to during that time were your mom and Becca.” His facial expression slightly changed at the mention of his family, and you placed a soft kiss on his stubble cheek. “I should’ve been the one who took care of them, but I was nothing without you, and Winnie almost made me move in with them. That’s why I jumped at the opportunity to be a volunteer for these tests.” 

Bucky shook his head, his eyes again full of regret and pain. “I hate that it happened because of me.”

“At least I’m here right now. With you.” You smiled, sliding your hand into his dark, long locks. “You know, James, you look really good for someone who’s older than one hundred years old. I like your hair. And stubble.” His eyes rolled back at the feeling of your nails on his scalp. It had been so long since someone touched him without an intention to hurt him, and the realization of that made your heart swell with the need to take care of your boyfriend. 

“You know that you’re one year younger than me, right?” Your favorite little smirk in the whole world appeared on Bucky’s lips, and you smiled, moving a little bit closer to his body. The metal hand on your waist tightened, and you realized that you hadn't seen it in person yet. 

Your right hand reached behind you, grabbing a hard wrist that was covered in leather. Bucky’s body immediately froze under you, and his eyes snapped open. 

“Doll, no… You don’t have to...” 

“I want to. Give me your hand, James.” You said without any hesitation. Bucky looked you in the eyes for a few seconds, but then brought his metal hand between your bodies. “It’s just me, okay? I’m not scared, and I want to know everything.” You wrapped both of your hands around his hand and then gently started to take off the glove. 

The dark metal with beautiful golden stripes was shining under the bright light of the room. Your mouth slightly opened when you moved each finger with interest. Your gentle hands slid higher, rolling up the sleeve of the red henley Bucky was wearing. It was so smooth, without any sharp details, just an amazing and mind-blowing mechanism. 

“That’s so beautiful.” You mumbled in awe. Suddenly the plates under your hands moved, and a quiet whirring sound filled the room. You shot your eyes back at Bucky in shock, only to see that he was already looking at you with so much love that you almost melted. “Did you do that?” 

“It’s a new arm, not from Hydra. It reacts to my emotions. No one ever touched it without any fear.” You almost missed that last sentence, but the hurt in Bucky’s voice made you grab his face with your hands to get his whole attention.

“Listen to me, James. I’m not afraid of you. I won’t reject you. You are everything that I want. You still have the biggest and kindest heart of the guy that I met many years ago, and I’ll do everything to prove to you this.” The metal hand carefully touched your hand on the side of his face. “I love you. I love you so much, James.”

“I love you too, Doll. More than anything in this life,” Your lips crushed into each other, now sharing a more passionate and deep kiss. You slightly tilted your head, allowing Bucky to part your lips with his tongue and playfully bite you. It was almost too overwhelming, and you both were completely lost in each other until you finally needed to breathe. 

“Stay here with me, please. I don’t want you to leave.” You whined, trying to push your big and strong super soldier onto the bed. 

“I won’t leave, baby.” He chuckled, allowing you to push him back. You happily giggled and laid near him, interlacing your bodies together. 

You two were just staying in your own little bubble on your bed for what seemed like forever, talking about everything and nothing at the same time, until you finally fell asleep, feeling happy and peaceful in each other's arms.  

[delicatebarness]

safe & sound | prologue

Summary: Bucky is given his new assignment.

Warning: Mob AU. Age Gap (Bucky - late 40s/Reader - early 20s). Dad's Best Friend. Mentions of Violence/Blood/Bones. Mentions of weapons.

Word Count: 423

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A/N: I wanted to just get on with it and make a start. As always feedback is appreciated and highly encouraged :) thank you!!

Tags: Let me know if you want to be tagged.

In the city's heart, shadows danced in the alleyways and whispers carried weight, the weight of the Rogers dynasty. Steve Rogers, a man of authority, led his empire with a determination that brooked no dissent. His wife, Natasha Romanoff-Rogers stood by his side, an equal in every sense, and her presence was as chilling as a winter evening. 

Their legacy was filled with secrets, built upon the bones and blood of those who dared to oppose them—bounded by a fierce love that went beyond the chaos they masterminded. 

Then, there were the twins. Their children, you and Peter, bore the weight of your parents' legacy on your shoulders.

Peter was the elder twin, a reflection of your father’s determination. From a young age, your parents groomed him to inherit the family business. He was schooled in the art of manipulation and intimidation. 

You were the younger twin and the polar opposite of your brother. Where Peter had embraced the darkness of the family name, you sought out the light. Your innocence remained untarnished as you wandered through life with wonder and hope. 

Together, you were the heirs to the Rogers legacy, a legacy steeped in blood and betrayal.

Your paths diverged further as you grew older. Peter had immersed himself in your family’s business, an ambition driving him to climb the ranks of the underworld. One day, take over your father’s mantle.

On the other hand, you yearned for something more, something that went beyond the confines of your family’s gilded cage. 

As the Rogers legacy thrived, a whisper of a testament to the power, love, and loyalty lurked within. You and Peter stood at the edge of your destinies as a shadow of your father’s past loomed ever larger, threatening to consume the Rogers whole. 

It was in the wake of this ominous threat that your father, the patriarch of your family, made a decision that altered the course of your life forever. Concerned for your safety, he turned to his oldest friend, a man who was forged from the same steel as himself: Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes. Known throughout the underground as “The Winter Soldier” but to you and Peter, he was “Uncle Bucky.” 

“Will you protect her, Buck?” Your father’s voice was grave as he asked for his friend's support, his eyes reflected a weight of the world that had settled upon his shoulders. 

Bucky’s gaze met his with a solemn node. “You don’t even have to ask, Steve.” And with their agreement, a new chapter in your life began.

---

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[avengerscompound]

The Tower - College

The Tower: College - One Shot

Series Masterlist

Pairing:  Avengers x OFC, Bruce Banner x Bucky Barnes x Clint Barton x Wanda Maximoff x Steve Rogers x Natasha Romanoff x Tony Stark x Thor x Sam Wilson x OFC (Elly Cooper)

Word Count: 2867

Warnings:  none

Synopsis:  Riley and Pietro are both preparing for college. Their parents all have ideas about where they should go.

Author’s Note: This is not a request but rather the first co-written piece with @fanficwriter013 since The Queen of Asgard. I do still have some requests to write and you can still send in your requests.

College

Set between The Queen of Asgard and Family

Nothing ever really prepares you to parent a teenager.  You can have all the love and all the money in the world and you’ll still feel blindsided by the challenges thrown up.  You’ll need to comfort them through fights with friends, drive them to extracurricular activities you’d never even thought of, grit your teeth while they date people you don’t like, and try to keep it together as their hormones go wild.  We’d been learning on the job and sometimes we struggled, but we were blessed with loving and affectionate kids, and we all wanted the absolute best for them.

We crossed each hurdle as we came to them, sometimes stumbling but always getting up and always supporting each other and them as we did.

Riley and Pietro were about to start applying to colleges, and we were helping them decide which ones they’d most like to attend.

Of course, Tony wanted them both to attend M.I.T.  He was very vocal about it.  Neither was particularly techy, but they humored him when he organized a private tour for them.  Riley, Pietro, Tony, Clint, Nat, Bruce, and I went to Boston to look around campus.

We spent the morning looking at lecture theaters and labs.  This afternoon we’d talk to professors about courses, majors, and what they’d need to get in.  For now, we were taking a break at a taco place just off campus.

When we were all seated with our chips, guac, and drinks, (I’d gotten a Paloma which I’d never had before and was already really enjoying) Tony looked at the kids.

“So?  What do we think so far? It’s good, huh?” he said. “There’s a lot of great stuff. There’s a study space that gives out free bananas.  How can you complain about that?”

"Bananas aren't a selling point," Clint said, shaking his head.

"I don't know, Dad, bananas sound good," Pietro said. "They're a good brain food."

"I think I'd like to see some other schools. Don't want to put all my eggs in one basket" Riley said, picking at her order of tacos.

“I mean, I’d also say that we can afford to buy bananas if we wanted them,” I added.  “That is not a thing that is outside our budget.”

Riley smothered laughter and Pietro shook his head.

“It’s more the principle of the thing,” Tony said.  “They care about their students and provide them with a calm study area with free brain food.”

“I think the main thing here is if they can study what they want to study, Tony,” I said, taking his hand.  “We’ll speak to the professors and figure it out.”

Tony huffed and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah.  We’ll see other schools.”

“We’re taking it all in though, Dad,” Riley assured him. “We just want to know what all our options are.”

"Yeah, Tony. All the options." Clint said, wagging a taco around in front of him.

"It's okay Tony. They'll figure out what they want. I'm sure MIT is a top contender out of the schools so far," Bruce said.  "Maybe they'd like my alma mater,” he added quietly.

"It's on the list, Dad, don't worry," Riley said. "We've even got clown college on the list for Papa Clint," she joked.

“Maybe they’d like to go to school at UCLA,” I added.  “That’s where I went.”

Riley’s eyes lit up. “Living in LA would be amazing!”

“No!” Tony said, quickly. “No way.  Nope.  You’re not going all the way across the country for college when all the good ones are over this side anyway.”

“And here I was thinking that I’d apply for Oxford,” Riley teased.

“Wash your mouth out with soap,” Tony said, pointing a fork filled with sizzling beef at his daughter.

She broke down into hysterical giggles and choked on her taco.  I reached over and patted her on the back as she grabbed her drink and tried to wash the food down.

“Well, there’s always Columbia.  That’s where I got my first job and it’s where I met your mama,” I said.

"Yeah, Columbia is an acceptable school," Nat said. "There aren't many that I approve of."

"Hey, I'd be happy with clown school if that's what you wanted," Clint said around a mouthful of tacos.

"I mean, Pietro did go through a magic phase," Bruce said.

“Oh yeah, the guy who has nightmares of clowns would be happy if his kids became clowns,” I teased.  “But yes, I agree, the most important thing is that you guys are happy.  Right, Tony?”

Tony sighed and rolled his eyes.  “Fine.  Yes.  The most important thing is that you’re both happy.”

“Gee thanks, Dad,” Riley teased.

“We are happy, mom.  And we’re happy to look at all your alma maters,” Pietro said.  “We’ll pick the best ones for us.  I promise.”

"Guess it's up to me to start planning all the visitations," Tony said, pulling out his phone. "All the alma maters, all the Ivy leagues. Anywhere else?" he asked.

Both Pietro and Riley had ideas of what they wanted to do with their lives.  In fact, what they really wanted to do was go to Asgard to learn about life there, as Riley was the heir to the throne.  There was plenty of time for that though.  They were both young even by mortal years, and Riley was no mortal.

Riley took after her biological father in a lot of ways.  She’d been offered athletic scholarships at several schools but there was a lot of debate about the ethicality of supers competing on sports teams.  Some schools had made leagues just for them.  She’d turned them down just to avoid the controversy.  She’d decided she wanted to learn political science.  She hoped it might help for her time as Queen.

Pietro, our little empath, was tossing up between art and psychology.  Much to Tony’s chagrin, that meant that Stanford was the top choice for both kids, and we did take a trip over to San Francisco to do a tour.  We also did Berkley while there, which was Pietro’s second choice and Riley’s fourth.  We did Harvard which Tony was a little more happy about due to being much closer.  Harvard was Riley’s number two, and Piet’s number three.  We did both Princeton and Yale, but both kids agreed that if they ended up at either of them, it was just because it was the only yes they got, and yeses weren’t as hard to get when you had money and brains, something the twins were both blessed with.  Finally, they checked out Grayburn College in Harlem because of Bruce, though everyone was a little worried about how Bruce’s legacy might end up affecting their time there, and Columbia for me.  Columbia was still fairly high up for both their subjects and had the benefit of being close to us.

We strolled along the campus, toward the library after having been taken around the law buildings and the psychology one.  Today it was me, Riley, Pietro, Tony, Natasha, Clint, Steve, and Tommy.  Tommy had not wanted to miss out on whatever fun his oldest siblings were having, but it was pretty obvious that he had big regrets about coming.  He was hanging off Tony’s arm and whining quite a bit.

I stopped on the lawn in front of the library and looked at my assembled family. “We can go in in a second.  But this spot here is very important.  You know why?”

Natasha smirked and moved in close, wrapping her arm around my waist.  “This is where your mother ran straight into me and we both went flying.”

“Oh my god, Mom,” Riley groaned, hiding her face.

"Yeah, it was on that day that your Ma almost killed your mother," Clint joked.

"And obviously the rest is history," Steve said.

"Yeah that's how we got you guys," Tony said, ruffling Tommy's hair.

“Yuck, Dad,” Riley said. “He’s too young to hear things like that.”

“Hear what?” Tommy asked.

“About how moms and dads are always smooching and making babies,” Pietro teased.

Tommy dramatically threw his head back.  “Eww…” he groaned and we all burst out laughing.

“Do you want to check out the library?” I asked, pointing to the building.

“Yeah, let’s do it,” Pietro agreed.

I led the way into the library.  I felt good.  The kids both seemed to like the University.  I wasn’t sure they’d pick Columbia, but it seemed like it was on the list.  Besides it was nice getting to be back on campus, it was a very special spot for me.

When the kids had checked out all the different university campuses and spoken to all kinds of people about the pros and cons of each school, they had put in their applications.  They both had their preferences.  Pietro wanted to stay close so even though Stanford was the better school for what he wanted to study, he picked Columbia as his first choice.  I was delighted to have one of the kids attending the school I’d worked at.  Especially given it was the place where I first met Natasha.  It felt like fate.

Riley was never going to be happy with just that though.  She wanted adventure more than she wanted an education.  I think if she’d thought about it in any real way, she might even push to go to college overseas and I was sure that if the option ever came up to do an exchange, she’d jump at it.  In the meantime, her top choice was Stanford - the top college for her chosen field and as far from us as she could get while still in the continental United States.

We weren’t too worried about them not getting in.  They were both smart kids and also - cards on the table - we were very rich.  An unfair privilege of being rich is that money can open doors that aren’t always open to everyone else.  It wasn’t an absolute definite, but with the two things together we were all confident they’d both be celebrating their acceptance into their chosen schools.

They had agreed to wait to log in and check their offers until we were all around.  It was killing them, especially Riley.  On the day, Tony had gotten out the champagne and had the cooks making their favorite meals. 

The twins sat at their laptops, fingers hovering over the enter keys as we gathered around them. 

“Are you all ready?” Pietro asked.  

"Oh my God. This is killing me!" Clint said, tapping his fingers against the side of his leg. 

"We know they're going to get in, you shouldn't be surprised," Nat said, patting Clint on the shoulder.

"But the suspense. You know I can't do the waiting," Clint whined. "Let's go."

The twins hit the buttons symultaneously, and for a moment the room was silent while they read the letters from their top choices.  At almost the exact same time, they jumped up.  Riley squealed with delight, a noise I don’t think I’d heard from her since she was little, while Pietro whooped and pumped his fist in the air.

“I’m going to Stanford!” Riley yelled.  “I’m going to Stanford!”

“I’m into Columbia!” Pietro added.

We all moved in, hugging them both.  “Yes!  Congratulations!” I said as I tried hugging both kids at once.

"One at a time, El," Nat said, hugging Riley.

"You both did it," Clint said.  “You got the schools you wanted. I'm so proud of you."

"This is great," Bruce said, nodding his head.

Tony got up and clapped his hands. “Mocktails,” he said.  “And food. It’s a party.”

I went with him to the bar and pulled out the mixers to make mocktails with.

“Can we get Ethiopian?” Riley called.

“No!  Pizza!” Pietro argued.

“We haven’t done a huge international feast for a while,” I said.  “We should do that.  Just order some of everything, like in the pre-kid days.”

“You used to have international feasts?”  Riley asked.

“Oh yeah,” Tony said. “We just ordered takeout from a dozen places.  We haven’t done that since we moved out to the compound.  We couldn’t get food delivered there, and when we moved back here, we just started eating the same thing.”

“Can we all pick what we want?” Billy asked.

“Yeah of course.  We’ll all order our favorite foods and then share them all,” Tony said.

The younger kids squealed excitedly and started jumping around.  “I’m gonna get pancakes,” Tommy yelled.  He ran over to Tony and slammed into him, hugging him around the waist and looking up at him.  “Can we get the choc-chip cheesecake pancakes from the Pancake Hut?”

Tony smoothed Tommy’s red hair back and squished his cheek.  “Of course you can.”

“Okay everyone,” Steve said.  “Let’s look at the apps and see what we can find.”

This was our biggest food order yet.  It took a lot to feed this family.  There were eighteen of us, and several had super-human appetites, but when we all ordered the same thing, we didn’t over-order.  This time we did.  It was like we were catering a party where we all wanted to share.  It would be eaten, Bruce alone could finish what the rest of us couldn’t, but it was still a shocking amount of food with an even more shocking bill.

Along with several stacks of various pancakes, a large platter of Ethiopian food, and a half dozen pizzas from Ray’s, we got eight different Indian Curries, a huge selection of Chinese dishes, sushi, fried chicken (Lousianna, Nashville, and Korean style), Korean toast, corn dogs, and tteokbokki, Brazilian, several dishes from the Cheese Cake Factory for some reason, a selection of things from Katz’s, several kinds of pasta including a three cheese gnocchi, fettuccine carbonara, and eggplant parmigiana, two different cheese fondues, two different hot pots, and a variety of dishes from an organic vegan place.

It was a lot and it didn’t fit on our table even in its fully extended state, and we had to bring up some tables and put them around the long table where we all sat.

The younger kids were so excited about all the different things they could try, and I was genuinely worried they would make themselves sick.  They couldn’t even sit still because if they were sitting, they weren’t trying anything new.  Tommy was a blur as he ran around and around the table nibbling at everything he could reach.

“Alright, alright,” Steve said.  “Let’s all take a seat.”

“This is a big special celebration,” Sam echoed.  “You’re gonna need to listen to a Steve dad speech.”

“No…” all the kids whined at once.

“Oh yes,” Natasha said.  “You know how it works.”

“Fine,” Riley said.  “Go on then, Dad.”

“Wow, thank you for the enthusiasm,” Steve joked.

“I love your speeches, Daddy,” Rose said, smiling at him.

“Suck up!” Sarah teased.

“Okay, okay, settle down everyone,” Steve said.

“Yeah, this is serious,” Clint teased.

Steve huffed and shook his head.  “Riley, Pietro, you two were such a blessing for us. I think we were all a little directionless before you came around.  We all had plenty of things we’d die for, but not so many to live for.  You give us that.  And I do realize that’s a lot to put on some kids, I hope you both haven’t felt that pressure growing up.  Suffice it to say, we all adore you and we have been thankful every day since you were both born.

“I know that us being your parents hasn’t always been easy.  You’ve had to grow up in the spotlight not just because we’re who we are, but because of how many of us there are.  I hope we did alright and didn’t mess you up too much.  I can tell you this for sure, we all love you so much and we are so proud of you,” he said.  “This is such a big turning point for you both.  You’re not our little kids anymore.  You’re adults.  You’re taking your first real steps into the world.  This is big.  You’re going to have the whole world's eyes on you.  And I can tell you that doesn’t matter.  It certainly doesn’t matter to us.  But I also know that that kind of pressure can affect you.  I want you both to know; you can never let us down, we always have your back, and we know you’ll do amazing.  We trust you.  We love you.  Congratulations.”

Riley and Pietro got up and came over to hug him, and Steve engulfed them both in his broad arms - quite the task considering they were both as tall as he was.

“Thank you, Dad,” Pietro said.

“See how much your kids love you,” Tony said. “They didn’t even say anything about how rambling you got on that one.”

Steve laughed. “Oh shush,” he said.  “You do better.”

Tony held up his hands in surrender.  “I would never,” he said.  “Come on everyone.  This is a party.  Let’s celebrate!”

With that, the lights dimmed and music started to play, and we spent the night celebrating the next big step in our oldest children’s lives.

~END~

[missvelvetsstuff]

The Wrong One

Bucky Barnes x Reader, Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: Reader meets Steve while he is on the run and stands by him through everything. Until he sees Peggy Carter again.

10. The Aftermath

Warnings: swearing, angst, difficult childbirth

Starting the next morning there was a barrage of romantic gifts showing up on her doorstep multiple times a day. Flowers, jewelry, candy, books by her favorite authors, knick knacks that Steve thought she would like. Constant texts checking up on her, phone calls where he sang love songs to her voicemail.

Y/N was already exhausted from her pregnancy and Steve's attentions, even though they weren't in person, just made it worse.

On top of that, the incident at the gala was all over the internet and gossip news sites and shows. Everyone was talking about Captain America's sudden reappearance and the confrontation with his very pregnant ex girlfriend and best friend.

Y/N woke up to hundreds of tags and notifications of articles, pictures and social media posts speculating on the meaning of last night's events.

Pictures of Bucky leaving her house as the sun was coming up. Putting a large bouquet of roses and a teddy bear with a Captain America shield in the house and stoically moving through the paps without saying a word. Even some pics of him jogging away.

When she tried to go for her morning walk, she opened the front door to find a mess of reporters still on her front stoop, keeping her from leaving. She could hear the sounds of cameras and was blinded by the many flashes.

Too many voices throwing questions out at her:

'Can you tell us what happened at the gala? Why did Captain America call you a whore?' 'When is your baby due?'

'Is that Steve Rogers child? If not who's the father?' 'Did you cheat on him?'

'Are you involved with The Winter Soldier?'

'Why is Bucky Barnes staying with you? Did he get into more trouble after the Flag Smashers?'

'Weren't you one of those pardoned after the snap? Do you think you deserved it?'

She felt overwhelmed and blurted out a distressed "No comment" and quickly went back into the house.

Y/N slammed and locked the front door then leaned against it and sank down to the floor, tears running down her face. She sat for a bit until she felt the baby start kicking up a storm. The movement reminded her of what was at stake. She laughed a little through the sobs and rubbed her belly.

"We're gonna be ok, little one. I don't know how we'll get there but I'll always be there for you."

Once she had calmed herself down, Y/N struggled to pick herself up from the floor, her large belly making the act impossible. She had to crawl across the floor until she reached a chair that she could use to support herself on her way up. As she was struggling to get up Bucky returned from his run.

He hurried over to her "Doll, are you alright? Why are you on the floor?"

He helped her stand up and pulled her into a hug when he saw that she had been crying. "What happened?"

Tears started forming before she could try to stop them "I was, I just I tried to go for a walk and th-th-they were all there, yelling and flashing and I couldn't-" she flinched and started panting, grabbing her belly.

She tried to curl up "Fuck!" She grabbed his arm "Bucky, it hurts" she whined.

Bucky's eyes grew wide and his heart sped up "Nonono, sshhh, you're ok doll. It's ok. Ivegotchu." He settled her on the couch and called Sam for a ride. While they waited for Sam he helped calm her down, breathing through the contractions.

She looked at him with tears in her eyes "Bucky, I'm not ready for this. Her room isn't done and I need more onesies. And, and I'm not ready to be a mom on my own."

He pulled her close and rubbed her back "I told you. I've got you. You aren't alone. If she's born tonight I'll get her room finished before you're ready to come home." He kissed the top of her head "You're gonna be a great mom. I just know it."

She nodded and calmed down enough to breathe through the contractions until Sam took them to the Tower. He waited in his office for them in case they needed a lift home.

Helen Cho was waiting and had Y/N hooked up to an assortment of monitors. As she relaxed Bucky held her hand and told Helen what had happened.

Helen shook her head "The press has been going crazy since Captain Rogers showed up at that party. They've been camped out in front but can't get into the parking garage. You might want to see about staying here in the Tower."

Y/N shook her head. "I just want to go home."

Helen pursed her lips "Well, let's keep an eye on you for the night and discuss what's next tomorrow. Remember we discussed the possibility of delivering early, especially considering how fast she has been growing. Try to get some sleep. Sargeant Barnes, you can stay in your quarters here tonight, she'll be carefully monitored."

Bucky shook his head "Not a chance, doc. I'm staying right here."

Helen shook her head "It's your back Sargeant. I'll see you in the morning"

Y/N looked over at Bucky with fear in her eyes but she tried to be brave "You don't have to stay in here all night, those chairs can't be comfortable. I'll be fine."

Bucky looked at her lovingly "Don't be silly doll. I'm not going anywhere."

She relaxed noticeably when he said that and whispered "Thank you Bucky."

He squeezed her hand "Anytime sweetheart."

She felt the butterflies but her heart clenched when she reminded herself he wasn't hers and eventually he would get tired of helping Steve's ex raise a kid that wasn't his. Even though he said he was fine with it she knew that couldn't last.

She tried to relax and get some sleep but it was a long time coming. When she finally did find sleep there were strange disjointed dreams with Steve and Bucky that she could barely remember in the morning, except for the feeling of unease they left her with.

Bucky woke early as he always did. He sat up and stretched without letting go of her hand. He sat and stared at her sleeping, in awe of her beauty. He couldn't wrap his head around Steve's actions. How could he leave this woman, she was so perfect. One of the few that didn't treat him like a monster.

As he watched he saw her stomach move and bulge he smiled, gently pushing on the spot that moved. He pushed softly and laughed a little when the baby pushed back. He spoke softly "My baby girl is an early riser like Uncle Bucky, huh?"

Y/N groaned, feeling the baby pushing on her bladder, and stretched. She felt Bucky rubbing her belly and opened her eyes. "Hey Buck, you sleep alright?" and yawned.

Bucky smiled "I'm fine, you're the one I'm worried about. How are you feeling?"

"M'alright. Contractions seem to have stopped." She looked at her belly and whispered "I really need to pee."

He chuckled "You need help getting to the bathroom?"

She shrugged "Probably." sat up and turned to the side, her feet barely touching the floor.

Bucky put his arm out for her and helped her to the bathroom.

Once she was settled back into bed he brought her some water.

They sat quietly for a little while before one of the nurses brought some breakfast. Helen showed up while she was eating.

Helen smiled as she entered the room "Good morning. How are you feeling today, Y/N?"

Y/N nodded "Much better. The contractions stopped."

Helen looked at the read outs "Your blood pressure is back down to normal, heart rate is normal and baby seems like she's good." She made some notes before sitting at the edge of the bed and looking back to Y/N.

"Everything looks fine now and you can be released. You have a couple of options. You don't need constant medical attention but the extra stress from a baby affected by the serum and Rogers erratic behavior are increasing your risks. I would recommend you stay in the tower. The sergeant has a room or there are some empty quarters we can set you up in.

You can go home but I really would feel more comfortable if you stayed close."

Y/N shook her head "I won't be able to relax in a strange room. I just want to go home. I can have Friday monitor me and contact you if there are any concerns."

She looked at Bucky pleadingly and he scratched his head "I don't know sweetheart, maybe staying here would be safer...." he trailed off, wanting her safe but not wanting to upset her any more.

He looked at Helen "I'll keep a close eye on her."

Helen shook her head "She needs to be on bed rest, no strenuous activity! And if the contractions start up again I want you to call me right away."

Bucky and Y/N promised to follow her instructions and Y/N dressed to go home.

When they arrived back at her home the press were mostly gone but the pile of gifts from Steve had grown. While Bucky helped Y/N inside, Sam cleared off the stoop, tossing Steve's gifts into a bag and shoving that bag into the coat closet for Y/N to deal with when she was up for it.

A few days passed quietly before they heard a loud knock at the front door while they ate breakfast.

Y/N, jumped at the sound and looked towards the front door with dread, who could it be this time?

Bucky went to answer the door, squeezing her shoulder, on his way to the entry, reassuring her that he's got it.

They knocked again, Bucky sighed as he reached the door. He tried to look through the peep hole but it was blocked, which made him consider leaving them out there. He decided it could be important so opened the door and was almost knocked down by Steve as he rushed in.

"What the fuck are you doing here, Rogers?" Bucky spat out.

"I'm here to check on my girls. Where is she?" He hurried to the living room where Y/N was struggling to stand up.

Her face turned to stone when she saw him. "Why are you here, Steve?"

Steve glared at Bucky "I'm here to check up on my best girls. Tell your boyfriend to back off."

Y/N scoffed "Your best girl died before the Blip. The only one here was just a sorry substitute. You're not welcome here."

Steve walked up to her and reached out for her hand, scowling when she pulled back. "Look, Y/N, I know I messed up but I'm here now and I want my family back."

She rolled her eyes "You have a really bad memory problem. You've already had your second chance and we are over. I won't be the one you settle for because I'm having your kid."

Steve tried to interrupt "I'm not settling honey, I made a mistake. Peggy was my dream, you're the reality."

She shook her head "So I'm the crappy wish version? I want to be with someone who wants me, who chooses me first not like some consolation prize." She was breathing heavily and feeling lightheaded.

Bucky moved quickly to her side to support her, murmuring supportive words into her hair. "Are you alright, love? You look a little pale."

He helped her sit back down and gave Steve a dirty look. "She is high risk because of the serum and doesn't need you coming in here stressing her out. We've already had one scare so you should just go. We'll let you know when she's born."

Steve shook his head "I won't let you push me aside when it's my fiance and my child you're trying to take away from me. You're talking like you're a couple, like it's your kid."

Y/N had it. "Enough! I am not your fucking fiance, Steve! All I am is your baby mama and that's all I will ever be to you. How many times do I have to say this?

Bucky isn't the one who deserted me without a warning. He has been here, by my side ever since he found out." She rubbed her temple "you're giving me a migraine, I'm on bed rest. Please leave you are stress-" her hand moved to her belly "owww, oh no. Bucky" she cried, panicking.

Bucky wrapped his arm around her shoulder, rubbing gently "Try to relax doll, you're ok and I- what the fuck was that"  the bottom of his pants suddenly felt wet.

She started hyperventilating "I think it's my water. My water broke." She looked at him scared.

Bucky rubbed her back "Don't worry sweetheart. I'm gonna take care of you, ok. Let's get you dressed and get your go bag. Ok?"

Y/N nodded nervously and went to her bedroom to take a fast shower and get dressed. She put her hair away from her face then threw on a pair of sweats, one of Bucky's t-shirts and a pair of slippers.

She returned to the living room carrying an overnight bag and noticed Steve was still there, looking concerned.

She pointed at him "Why are you still here, I told you to leave."

Steve shook his head "No. It sounds like you're about to have my baby so I'm coming with you."

She scoffed "Like you care. You can sit in the waiting area because I don't want you anywhere near me." Her face pinched and she growled "Fuuuck!" looking around to see Bucky on the phone.

He finished up quickly and went to take Y/N's bag and offer his arm in support, looking at her concerned "You ok honey? Remember to breathe. I spoke to Helen, we're meeting her at the Tower. I also sent a message to Pepper, she will check up on you after we get you settled."

Y/N nodded quickly and tried to remember her breathing while keeping a bruising grip on Bucky's arm. He flinched lightly and started walking towards the garage, leading her slowly.

Bucky realized Steve was still there and shouted back at him "We're going to the Tower, don't much care what you do."

Steve nodded curtly "I'll meet you there."

By the time they arrived at the Tower Y/N was crying, sweating profusely, trying to breathe between sobs "Bucky, this is too much, I can't"

He picked her up bridal style and headed up to the medbay "I know it hurts doll but you can, I know you can. Helen will help and you'll have our beautiful girl in your arms before you know it." He grimaced as she tensed during each contraction but didn't notice the blood until he set her down on the bed Helen Cho pointed towards it.

Bucky looked to Helen with wide eyes, scared for the first time in years.

Y/N felt like she was being ripped apart as the contractions increased until she barely had a chance to catch her breath in between. She had a death grip on Bucky's hand and cried in pain as Helen did an exam to see how far along she was, brow furrowed at the blood.

Helen spoke softly as she removed her gloves, calling for an anesthesiologist and faced Bucky. "I'm going to give her a spinal for the pain, her blood pressure is pretty high as well. I'm going to do an ultrasound to see where baby is because she was head up last time." She spoke softly to Y/N explaining what was happening next and assured her that the baby was not in any distress.

As Helen performed the ultrasound her face showed her concern. She kept her voice calm so as not to stress Y/N any more than necessary. "So, she's still head up so we're going to have to do a c-section. The umbilical cord is wrapped around her neck as well. She still not showing any signs of distress and I want to get her out before she does. Sargent Barnes, you need to scrub and get a surgical gown and we'll meet you in the OR."

Bucky nodded and tried to keep the fear off of his face when he spoke to Y/N "I'm gonna go get cleaned up and meet you in surgery, ok sweetheart? They're gonna hook you up with some pain meds so you'll feel better soon and we'll get your baby girl." He kissed her forehead and walked away.

After she was given the pain meds Y/N calmed down a little before she was prepped for surgery until the baby monitor started beeping. She looked at nurse "Whats that? Is something wrong? Is she ok?"

Bucky came in wearing a surgical gown/cap/shoe covers and took her hand to calm her down as Helen quickly went to work.

30 minutes later Y/N's newborn girl was placed on her chest. Bucky took a couple of pictures and teased her about her slightly stoned looking smile.

After baby girl was cleaned and weighed, and mom was all stitched up they were taken to a small room where they worked on nursing until baby latched on. Bucky was right there making sure she was comfortable, warm enough, had enough support, gave her drinks and couldn't have been more proud if he had delivered a baby himself.

Steve was in the waiting room and looked anxiously at Helen when she told him that baby and mom were in the first room if he wanted to see them. He almost ran there but stopped at the doorway. The scene in front of him broke his heart.

Y/N looking beautiful but very tired holding his daughter as she nursed while Bucky was sitting on the bed next to her, metal arm around her shoulders, talking sweetly to the baby as she gripped his finger, a look of love and awe on his face. They made a beautiful little family.

Steve couldn't stand it and left without saying a single word.

Chapter 11

[thesecretwriter]

more than just friends (part 1) - steve rogers.

pairing: Steve Rogers x female reader

warning: angst city, mean!steve rogers, hurtful words, argument between steve and reader, platonic!bucky barnes, features some of the avengers

summary: the reader and steve have a tension between them - even if they're just friends. whenever they are in the company of each other everything feels right. even at the smallest of moments. steve wants the opportunity to love someone. he wants to move on from the 'what ifs?' from his past, but why does it seem so hard? this is where the reader comes in, always there when steve needs to talk or just bask in the silence of each other’s company. she craves to feel a love she has never known. can the man she dreams about provide that for her or is she pinning after a story with no ending.

word count: 2.4k

a/n: this is a rewrite of a fic from a while back. i didn't like how it was, so here ya go, enjoy!

minors/ageless blogs dni.

Masterlists

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5

“Steve, have you seen y/n?” Sam asked as Steve walked into the living room.

“No, how would I know where she is?” Steve asked confused, with a hint of annoyance in his tone.

“What’s going on with you? I just asked a question.” Sam stated perplexed.

Steve was never one to be rude to his friends, regardless of his mood, he was always able to be respectable. However, his mood seemed to be on the downside today.

He ignored Sam and walked to the elevators. As he waited for the elevator, Tony appeared next to him with a small smirk.

“Top of the morning to you, Cap,” he said greeted unnecessarily loudly.  

“Tony,” he responded with a stiff nod.

“What’s the plans for today?” He asked.

“Nothing,” Steve answered straightforwardly.

“Okay good. Do you know where y/n is?” he asked, feigning curiosity.

“No. I do not,” he answered muttered.

All Tony did was nod since Steve seemed agitated, which was very rare to see.

“Alright then, I’ll leave you to it. Although if you are looking for her, I suggest looking near the compound grounds,” with nothing else left to say. Steve is left wondering why you could possibly be out there on your own.

He didn’t seem to notice the contradiction behind what Tony said, he asked where you were, but ended up answering his own question.

Steve made his way down and was thinking of asking Bucky to spar with him outside. It seemed like the weather was good, and all he wanted was to take his mind off from today. Sparing would be a good distraction.

“Hey buck, wanna spar outside? The weather seems to be working in our favor,” he asked Bucky who was seemingly playing with his pocketknife.

“Sorry Steve. Kinda busy right now. You could ask y/n though. She’s available today,” he said dismissively.

“I would’ve asked her if I wanted to.” He grunted and started to walk off.

What was wrong with everyone? They kept on mentioning y/n, he thought to himself.

Steve had a good mind of telling everyone to leave him alone, but the curiosity of got the best of him and he found himself walking toward the compound grounds.

After 2 years of exchanging glances and smiles, sharing vulnerable words and subtle touches, you were finally going to tell Steve about how you feel. Anyone with two eyes and a brain can see and sense the feelings that Steve seems to feel towards you.

So, you came clean to the team about what you wanted to do. Being the good support system they were, they helped you to set up a cute little picnic for you and Steve on the compound grounds that has a breathtaking scenery surrounding it.

The difficult part was getting an unsuspecting Steve to your location, but that seemed to work on your behalf since you see Steve heading in your direction.

“Hey,” you say nervously as he gets closer.

“Hi, what’s with the food and picnic setup?” he asked as he glanced behind you to see all the food set out.

“I decided that it was a good morning to have a little picnic, in fact I was hoping for you to join me since I have something to discuss with you,” you rambled on trying to grasp onto the right words while your hands moved around.

The night before had your tummy filled with butterflies. You even practiced what you wanted to say and how you were going to say it.  

“Alright, but I have somewhere I need to be in about an hour,” Steve replied, his tone was monotone which was rather unusual of him. He glanced down at his watch and then back up at you.

“It won’t be long,” you smiled and went over to the blanket you had spread out.

Steve sat across from you and took a plum that was within his reach.

It was quiet for a moment before you finally built up the courage to start telling him how you feel.

“You’re a very dear friend of mine and I’m happy to have you be a part of my life. God knows how many times you were there when I needed someone. We’ve shared many moments in the time we have known each other in ways no one else could. You may be Captain America to the world, but to me you’re Steve Rogers. The man who puts everyone before himself and adjusted to living in a new world. There are so many things about you to admire. The moment you and I made eye contact when we were celebrating Peter’s 18th birthday made me realize how I feel about you. Every moment I spend with you, I fall deeper,”

Your heart rate had spiked up since the moment you started talking. Your eyes never left Steve’s; he could see the emotion in your eyes as every word left your lips.

A moment of silence passed through the atmosphere around you.

Steve woke up from where he was sat and began to walk away from you, not even looking back.

It happened so fast that you only took a deep breath in after his figure faded into the distance.

You suddenly felt a drop on your hand that was settled on your lap. It was your tears. One by one, the tears began to roll down your cheeks.

Everything hit you at once and the negative thoughts started, how could you even think that he could feel the same? Steve Rogers, who had encountered so many people that did more than you could ever dream of.

But then again everyone around you were so sure that he felt the same, were they wrong? All of them?

You sat there alone and staggered with your thoughts – time moved around you and you didn’t know how long it took, but you eventually gathered the food and other items and walked toward the compound hoping to not see anyone on your way up to your room. You couldn’t bear to have them see you like this.

Once you were in your room, you collapsed on your bed and sobbed to your hearts content. Only one thought was on your mind.

His words would’ve been better than his silence.

Hours passed, and by now it was dark outside.

“Steven Grant Rogers, who gave you the audacity to act the way you did with y/n?” Bucky’s voice boomed through the empty living room as Steve arrived back at the compound after spending the whole day away and Bucky had been sitting and waiting for him.

“What now Buck? I had a rough day and would like to spend the night peacefully in my room,” Steve complained as he glared at his metal armed friend.

“Rough day? You have some nerve acting like that after what happened between you and y/n?” Bucky questioned growing annoyed.

“It’s none of your business,” Steve stiffened knowing that by now every one of the avengers knew what happened.

Upon your lack of presence the whole day, Bucky sought you out to see how the picnic had panned out, you had given him the rundown version of what happened, and to say he was disappointed and angered towards Steve would be an understatement.

“None of my business? Funny how you say that after talking to me about her the way you do. In all our years of friendship, I have never heard you speak about anyone the way you spoke about her. She finally got the courage to express how she felt and all you did was walk away?” Bucky was on the verge of throwing the nearest object at Steve.

Steve spent hours talking about what an admirable woman you are and how the smallest things you did made his heart skip a beat. Where were those words now? What changed how he felt? If anything, he should be happy that you reciprocated the way he felt towards you.

“Today is just not the day for that, and I don’t want to deal with her overexaggerating,” he said with anger.

“Where is all this even coming from? And what day could it possibly be that you would act this way-“

“It’s the damn day I first met Peggy, okay!” Steve shouted.

A silence fell upon the two super soldiers.

“The day you met her-…Steve that is the silliest thing that has ever come from you. I would understand if it were the day she died, but this? The day you met her? Peggy lived a full life with a man she loved, she had children and experienced life till the end. You have someone who is more than willing to give you the same, and you disregard her because it is the day you met Peggy?”

Bucky stared at Steve with a look of shock, the man standing before him was unrecognizable to him.

Steve remains quiet.

Yes, he did have someone who he can have a life with, but to him Peggy was it. She saw him for who he really was. Had he not gone under ice he would have been the man to give Peggy the life she deserved. At least that’s how he felt whenever his thoughts strayed to the past.

He ignores Bucky’s stare and makes his way to your room. In his mind, his best friend would not have spoken to him like that if you did not open your mouth to them. This is all your fault, or at least in his eyes it was.

Once in front of your door, he angrily knocked on it, waiting for you to open the door.

“It is 9 freaking pm, whoever is behind this door better have a good reason to be knocking on it,” he heard you mutter.

“Oh, I have a very good reason,” he grits as you open the door and stand looking at him astounded.

“Wha-… Steve, where were you? I haven’t seen you since the morning,” you inquire, completely forgetting about how he made you feel and concentrating on whether he was okay from the way he looked so angered.

“Where I go and what I do is none of your business, but since you can’t seem to keep your mouth shut. I was at Peggy’s grave the entire day,” you stared at him with your mouth agape, he had never spoken to you with such a venomous tone.

“… and if you would’ve kept your mouth shut, then I wouldn’t have my best friend blowing up in my face and arguing with me the minute I step in. Can you ever keep things to yourself?” he asked annoyed.

By now you had processed every word you said.

“Steve, I would never say anything to cause an argument between you and Bucky. Whatever happened this morning did hurt me, I confessed my feelings to you, and you just left. But Bucky and the rest of the team were the ones to convince me to even talk to you about it. Had I known what day it was I would’ve never done anything,” you kept your tone calm and collected. Although Steve had never spoken to you like this, you would never hold this against him.

Today was a meaningful day for him, and like you said, had you known what day it was you would have never even planned the picnic.

“Is that so? Because if I recall you were the one to orchestrate the whole plan. Sure, the others may have pushed me in your direction, but you played the bigger part in it,” he said recalling how everyone basically made him find you this morning.

“I’m going to ignore every word you say because I know you’re only saying it out of anger. You can speak to me when you have calmed down and collected your thoughts, because clearly this is not the Steve that I know talking,” you said this looking him straight in the eyes and meaning every word that left your lips.

It is unfortunate to say, but there were many times where you fell victim to being the target of many people’s anger. Although you knew they would never say these words in the right state of mind, it still hurt to endure hearing them from people you care about, and right now hearing it from the man you love was slowly tearing your heart apart.

“You think you know me so well. Sure, I come to you when I need someone but that is only because you were just there, always waiting. Doing nothing else but waiting. You think I want to come to you? The only reason I even make my way to you is because Peggy is not here. If she were here, you wouldn’t even be an option,”

Each word to you was a knife to the heart and a pinch at your soul.

Tears made their way down your face, your knees felt weak, with your heart beating too fast. His words had struck a nerve, and to you, they may have held some form of honesty in them.

“You don’t think I know that? I stay at your side knowing that I will never be good enough. That I will never be her, yet I still stayed when you needed me, just hoping that somewhere in that heart of yours you would find a way to love me... No more now, no more will I put your feelings before mine. I stand by what I said before, but your words hurt too much to ignore. Goodnight Captain,”

With that being said you close the door and lock it, falling to the floor and bringing your knees to your chest.

You heart was officially done.