#captain-s-rogers

[suitofvibraniumarmor]

HOORAY FOR DRABBLES!!! Can I get 11 with Evans?! YOURE A GEM AND I LOVE YOU A LOT. OKAY BYEEEEEE!

I got you, boo ;)

You hated running late, but such was the case when Chris asked you to meet him during rush hour. Right after you got off work, you braved the streets and drive over to the restaurant he had selected. A cursory glance through the place and you spotted him sitting in a booth towards the back.

“Sorry I’m late, traffic,” you said, scooting onto the bench and dropping your purse next to you. Now you could slow down, catch your breath, and enjoy a meal with your friend.

Chris smirked. “No worries - I already ordered you a glass of wine.”

“You’re the best. How was your day?”

“Slow, nothing good exciting. Talked to the family a bit. My mom asked about you again.”

You snapped your fingers and mentally chastised yourself. “Shit, I had it on my to-do list to call her and I probably moved the post-it. How’s she doing?”

“Good, nosy as ever. Wanted to know if I’ve convinced you to marry me yet.”

You chuckled; it was a long-standing joke between the two families that you and Chris, childhood best friends, would end up together someday. His mother asked that just as often as your mother did. Today though, he wasn’t laughing with you.

“Starting to bother you?”

Chris shook his head. “No. Starting to wonder if they’re on to something.” He leaned forward, licking his lips. “I’m not saying let’s get married, I’m just saying maybe ... maybe this dinner date could be an actual date.”

Your heart was racing. You loved Chris, of course. He had always been an important part of your life. In love with him though? It hadn’t crossed your mind, really.

“We don’t have to, Y/N, if you’re not comfortable. We can stay friends and forget about it.”

But as your mind pictured a future with Chris, not having that, or not having the opportunity to see if a future was there, made you panic.

“I don’t wanna forget about it,” you smiled. “I mean, we owe it to ourselves to try, right?”

“Right,” Chris agreed, just as the waitress was bringing out your glass of wine.

***

Request a drabble or headcanon!

[whiskeyxcola]

Yours Truly: Part 1

Summary: Sadie Coleman arrives at the Pratt farm for the summer and discovers she may have signed up for more than a simple nanny job.  Pairing: Chris Pratt x OFC, Chris Evans x OFC Word Count: 1650 Warnings: Mentions of divorce and abandonment.  A/N: Hope you enjoy the first part of the collab with @captain-s-rogers! Don’t be afraid to ask to be on the taglist, and please let us know what you think! Also, keep an eye out for part two, which Ashley will be posting later today! 

Tags: @ellen-reincarnated1967 @crazililwabbit @catching-up-with-kayla

June 1

Caroline,

My first day here at the farm was insightful, to say the least.

The daughter, Layla, is four, and possibly the sweetest child on the face of the planet. And she is so smart! We are going to have an amazing summer, I can tell.

Her father on the other hand -- I’m not entirely sure what to make of him, to be honest. He’s polite but has some rough edges… I suppose anyone would be after their wife left them with a farm and a four-year-old. Although, if he was like this before, it’s no wonder she left. That’s a terrible thing to say, I know. If he expects me to stick around all summer, he’d better work on becoming more personable, that much is for sure.

How is D.C.? I want to hear all about the plane ride and your arrival and the people you’ve met. How is the guy you’re working for? Hopefully he is friendlier than ole Farmer Pratt. Ha.

Layla told me she likes to get up early, so I should probably get to bed. I’m already loving our idea to write letters this summer and only call a few times or in case of emergency. Send me a postcard from D.C.!

Yours truly,

Sadie

The drive from her Wichita home to the Lawrence, Kansas, area was only a few hours, but it was just long enough for Sadie to wonder about a million times if this was really how she wanted to spend her summer. Teaching during the school year was one thing, but continuing it into the summer?

Although, the job description sounded more like a nanny with an education background than an actual teacher. The little girl she would be working with would turn five over the summer, and her father wanted her ready for kindergarten.

In search of a teacher to work with and care for my daughter over the summer. Must have education background and be willing to do tasks around the home. Must be willing to travel, if necessary. More details provided upon inquiry; serious applicants only.

The ad had been posted on a site many teachers in the area used, and had just enough detail to pique Sadie’s interest. She immediately emailed the man who had posted the job for more details and, even though she knew right away there probably would be more caring for than teaching involved, she took him up on the offer in return for negotiated pay, and room and board.

“Perhaps it will lead to something else,” Sadie thought to herself, thinking of the new job she would need to find for the next school year. Her job in Wichita had been secure, until budget cuts forced them to close down several schools in the area. The closings had left many teachers without jobs, and Sadie had been one of them. There were simply too many elementary school teachers, and she had not been around long enough to build up the necessary tenure to stay. She had, however, looked at the bright side: she would have excellent references and the opportunity to relocate wherever she pleased.

The farmhouse she pulled up to was larger than she expected, but the place still had a cozy feel about it. Laid out beyond the house was a lush backyard, a sturdy, wooden playset, and a barn. Beyond that was brown dirt, as far as Sadie could see.

“Ms. Coleman?”

Sadie looked in the direction of the voice to see a man and a little girl standing on the porch. Taking a determined breath and beelining for the porch, Sadie prepared to meet her new employer and charge.

“Please, call me Sadie,” she said as soon as she was shaking the man’s hand. His hand wrapped around hers was calloused and rough, but there was something gentle about his handshake, as well. “You must be Mr. Pratt.”

“I am. If I’m going to call you Sadie though, please, call me Chris. This is my daughter, Layla.”

The little girl had hidden behind her father’s legs as Sadie approached, and peeked out from behind now. Her hair was a mess of curls (literally, a mess. Sadie couldn’t wait to run a comb through them.) and her eyes were big and blue, just like Chris’s.

“Hello, Ms. ‘Adie,” Layla greeted in almost a whisper. Her ‘s’ at the end of Ms. and the beginning of Sadie ran together, but it endeared Sadie immediately to the small child.

Sadie got down to Layla’s level. “If it’s okay with your dad, you can just call me Sadie.”

“Daddy?” Layla looked up at her father; Chris’s face softened. Sadie pursed her lips in an effort to hide her smile. She had an inkling that there wasn’t much Chris denied his daughter.

“It’s okay with me. How about you show Sadie where her room will be, while I finish up the afternoon chores?” He looked to Sadie. “We can discuss some things later, after she’s gone to bed.”

“Yessir,” Layla obeyed with a sing-song voice, all hints of her earlier shyness gone as she took Sadie’s hand and led her into the house.

Layla played with her dolls on the floor of the guest room while Sadie settled into her new quarters. Sadie hummed quietly while she worked, until all of her things were put away. Finally, she stowed her suitcase in the closet, then turned to Layla. The little girl’s curls caught her attention again, so Sadie decided it was time to comb them out. She asked Layla where her comb was, then found some detangler. She sat on the floor with Layla sitting in front of her and carefully combed out the girl’s hair before styling it into a cute side ponytail. When she was done, she picked Layla up and took her to the mirror so the girl could admire her newly styled hair.

“Daddy!” Layla exclaimed when Chris came in, dirty and sweaty, “Look! Adie fixed my hairs!”

Chris sent Sadie the kind of look that could only be considered a low-key, don’t-want-my-daughter-to-see glare before grinning at Layla and sweeping her up into his arms and telling her how beautiful she looked.

“I’m going to take a shower. You girls can get started on supper while I clean up.”

Sadie licked her lips and nodded, taking Layla by the hand and leading her into the kitchen. She whipped up a chicken salad for sandwiches, had Layla help her set the table, and then served up the girl before making a plate for Chris and herself.

Supper was an awkward, silent event, save for Layla’s comments here and there. After they ate, Chris sent Layla to her room to play while he and Sadie cleaned up from supper and talked about her summer arrangement over coffee.

“I understand that you’ll be considering school year work while you’re here, which is fine. I do have a part-time babysitter, and I don’t intend to keep you here twenty-four-seven. I want you to have your own life.” He sipped at his coffee. “I’ve got Layla on a pretty good schedule, but I’m okay flexing it. Planting is done for the season, but caring for the fields and the animals still needs to be done. I’m out of the house most of the day, but I’ll be in at lunchtime. If I have to go into town, I’ll let you girls know. I’d expect you to do the same if you leave with my daughter.”

Sadie nodded. “Of course.”

“I’d like for her to be ready for kindergarten in the fall -- honestly, I don’t know what that entails, but that’s where you come in. Maybe just an hour or two a day, you can work with her, practice, all that.” He leaned forward and let out a deep breath. “Not to get too personal, Sadie, but, in case Layla talks about it, I’m going to be very honest with you. Not quite a year ago, my wife left us. We had a myriad of issues -- anyway. Layla seems to have adjusted all right, but occasionally she’ll talk about her mother.”

“I’m sorry,” Sadie said, not sure what else to say. “I can assure you, I do know what to ready Layla for. I’ve got a master’s in elementary education, and I’ve been teaching kindergarten for several years now, until they closed down the school I was working for. I had only been with the district for a few years, so I was let go. But I have excellent references.”

“I know,” Chris said, smirking -- the first time Sadie had seen the hint of anything resembling a smile sent in her direction. “I called them.”

“Wow,” Sadie chuckled. “You’re really serious about this.”

His smirk slowly faded. “Layla’s all I have left. I need her to be well-cared for, but I can’t be with her all the time, and I can’t do all of the things her mother could do for her. I’m trying, though.”

Something occurred to Sadie. “You did her hair this morning, didn’t you? I’m sorry, Chris, I didn’t mean …”

He waved her off, getting up to put both of their empty coffee cups in the sink. “It’s all right. Maybe you can teach me some things this summer, too. I’ll get Layla put to bed.”

“I’d like to tell her good night, if that’s all right.”

“Of course.”

The good night with Layla took a few minutes, as she excitedly explained to Sadie how she arranged all of her stuffed animals. Chris finally swatted her lightly on the bottom and told her to get her pajamas on, that she had talked Sadie’s ear off enough for one day.

Sadie smiled, leaving father and daughter behind for their nighttime routine. She closed the door to her room behind her, settling in to write her letter to Caroline.

Part Two

[evansbby]

Frat boy Chris getting hyped up at the game

[anonymityisfunwriter]

The Fate's Design

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Rogers!Reader Summary: Flower, gleam and glow, let your powers shine Make the clock reverse, bring back what once was mine Heal what has been hurt Change the fates' design Save what has been lost Bring back what once was mine, what once was mine...

"I know you," Wanda whispers, eyes narrowing at the former Winter Soldier.

"How? How do you know him?" Steve questions.

Wanda turns to Steve and her head turns in confusion mixed with vague recognition. She shuts her eyes and tries to remember the flickers of your memories. Her eyes whirl open and Steve is no longer just Steve.

She's never put the two together, but Steve's face is still the same as it was in the 1940's.

"I don't - I don't understand. How?"

"How, what, Wanda?" Steve asks, a hint of urgency in his question. 

"How do you think you know me?" Bucky simultaneously demands.

"Perhaps we give her a moment?" Vision suggests, a worried expression painting his face as he watches Wanda's face contort trying to reason whatever she'd just recognized. 

"I never realized before." She looks to Steve. And she's right, he's not just Steve anymore. It's almost like she unlocked a new, deeper understanding of Steve Rogers. "Your face. It's still the same."

"My face? Wanda, please, just try to explain," Steve gently urges. 

"I don't know her name. She knew you two. She knew you well," she explains, her eyes flickering to meet Bucky's hardened stare.

"Who?" Bucky quietly seethes, his fist clenching under Wanda's scrutiny.

"I don't know her name."

Her name, is all Steve hears.

Despite finding and getting Bucky back, Steve's refused to hope that you'd come back too. That wasn't how the world worked, he couldn't have two miracles.

It wouldn't happen.

Just because he lost you two in the same place didn't mean you'd both get to come back. He refused to believe, to let that hope rise in his chest. But for one short second, his will power breaks and he's hoping again.

"Wait here," he commands, before quickly rising out of his seat and wordlessly bolting to his room.

He takes a deep breath as he opens his door and immediately looks to the box underneath his desk. He feels an immense guilt that the only commemoration of your life resided in a small box gathering dust in his room. Not even Bucky knew about the box.

He was to blame for the world not knowing about you, for there not being anything to honor the amazing life you'd lived.

He gently dusts the lid before carefully opening the box. There's a frame at the very top - the last picture of you he recovered, also the last one you'd ever taken. There weren't many things that survived once he went into the ice, and even fewer photographs. Most of you and Steve together. Some with Bucky. And a few alone.

In spite of all the guilt and sorrow, he smiles thinking about you.

--

You're standing in an alley, pressed against the exposed brick wall by a man you were speaking to in the diner.

The man approached you inside and showered you in uncomfortable, borderline inappropriate compliments and talked to you for quite some time. You were really just trying to be nice, but the man was clearly not taking the hint that you just weren't interested. Not as you try walking away. Not as you subtly push his hand away from you for the dozenth time. Not in the tight smile he keeps asking to see. 

You worked at the diner a few times a weeks to earn some money to keep you and Steve afloat. Keeping that in mind, you kept a smile on your face and held your tongue, only because you really didn't want to lose this job knowing how hard a decent job was to come by. And that Steve was already working harder than he should trying to keep you two comfortable.

While the man was still talking your ear off, you were just hoping Steve wouldn't take much longer. 

But the longer you waited, the more forward the man became.

A little too forward for your taste.

So you excused yourself, saying that you needed to go home. Still the man persevered, offering you his arm to walk you home. You politely declined, but he just kept forcefully insisting. You caved, figuring you'd just leave him at some random address or apartment building.

You're only a few steps into your walk, but the man wastes no time before pulling you into the alley right next to the diner. 

With a nervous chuckle, you try to pull away. To deescalate while getting as far away from this man as possible. 

One hand right by your head, the other tightly gripping your waist. His hand bunches around the fabric of your skirt, incrementally lifting it.

You slap his hand away, but then he wraps his hand around your wrist. His hot breath is in your ear whispering how he knows how much you want him, that you can drop the act. It sends an unpleasant shiver down your spine.

Your head recoils as his mouth tries to catch yours. You turn to see your brother squinting his eyes trying to see who's in the alley, the man's lips falling on your cheek instead. Steve calls your name in recognition. "I'm fine, Stevie. Go back inside."

The man's grip tightens again bringing your attention back to him. "Now, where were we?"

"You were about to let me go," you grit, feeling entirely fed up.

The man predatorily strokes your face, his other hand going for the waistband of your skirt. "Come on, I see you the guys you hang around. Can't I get some of that?"

Before you can think, you're striking him across the face, "How dare you? Let me go."

Now, his hold on your arm has turned into a furious death grip. He seethes, "You bitch."

You hear Steve call your name again. You turn to your brother who's now making his way down the alley, fist clenched. You shake your head and with your free hand you wave him away. "I can handle this, Stevie. Go back inside."

The man's grip on your wrist tightens again, this time you can't help the wince that leaves your mouth. Steve doesn't miss that. "You heard the lady. Beat it."

Steve puts his hand on the man's shoulder, trying and failing to shove him away from you. "I think you need to let my sister go."

"Stevie, don't. I'll be fine."

But he doesn't listen and you already know how this is going to go. You've seen this dozens of times, tended to Steve's wounds from fights he refused to back down from.

An involuntary scream rips from your throat when you see the man's fist viciously connect with Steve's face. You're trying to separate the two, but the man roughly shoves you out of the way. This only spurs Steve on.

You hit the wall, but the second you recover you're back up trying to pull the man away from your brother. You're almost successfully between them when you see him running down the alley.

Like all those times before, he's saving Steve from another fight.

You see Bucky's fist fly at the man, though this time the man backs down. Bucky's yelling all kinds of warning and threats as the man runs away. Bucky turns to the two of you, an unamused and disapproving look on his face.

Steve wipes the blood away from his mouth and nose, "I had that."

"You know, sometimes I think you like getting in fights," Bucky quips, ignoring Steve's comment.

"He was being disrespectful. I couldn't just let him talk to my sister like that. You should've seen how he was grabbing at her," Steve grumbles.

"If I would've, I wouldn't have let him walk so easily," Bucky assures him, his eyes briefly flickering to you.

"It's my job to protect my little sister," Steve stubbornly insists. 

"I told you I had it," you scold, ignoring Bucky entirely.

"He was hurting you," Steve argues. "I saw him."

"Are you hurt, Doll?"

You ignore Bucky's question, shaking your head at Steve. At his willingness to defend you in fights he knows he can't win. All for the sake of protecting you. 

Bucky looks at you up and down, trying to discern if he needs to go after that guy and really lay into him. You're not hurt, not really. Your wrist will probably be a little sore tomorrow, but except for your dirty dress, you're thankfully unscathed.

Still, Bucky sees the way you're holding your wrist, he gently takes your hand and inspects it. "That's why I smacked him. There's no need for you to defend my honor, Stevie. I'm perfectly capable of that myself. The next shot was in between the legs."

"Remind me not to disrespect you," Bucky exhales forcefully, his eyes playfully wide.

His hold on your wrist is hard to ignore, and it's even harder to ignore the gently sweet kiss he presses on your wrist's pulse point.

You roll your eyes and pull your hand away from him, ignoring the way it made your heart race.

Bucky's always flirted with you, always. Most of the time you playfully flirted back, not knowing if he was being serious or not. This was one of those times. You laugh as Bucky's arm wraps around your shoulder. "Don't they know not to mess with my girl. I already told you and most of Brooklyn that I'm going to marry you one day. Mark my words."

You just laugh him off. You don't believe that he's being serious and that this isn't just the smooth talker you've known your whole life. "And I told you not to make promises you can't keep."

"Oh, I intend to keep that promise. Even if I have to beat off all the men of Brooklyn-"

"And how many times have I told you two to stop flirting with each other?" Steve complains, placing himself in between you and Bucky. 

You roll your eyes. "He started it."

"I can finish it too," Bucky quips.

"Down, Bucky," you playfully order. "Before Steve tries to beat you up too."

Bucky simply laughs and the three of you start walking to your neighborhood.

By the time you make it to your doorstep, the adrenaline from Steve's fight has died down and it's comfortably silent as you make your way up the porch. You murmur a goodbye to Bucky who still wears a flirty grin on his face. You roll your eyes, and with a wink and a dramatic hand he blows you a kiss before you walk up the porch steps. 

In spite of his already swelling eye, Steve narrows his eyes in warning at Bucky, eliciting a breathy laugh from Bucky. 

You fish your key out of your bag and with a hand on Steve's shoulder, you guide him inside, "Come on, Stevie. I gotta get some ice on that eye before it swells any more."

"I told you to stop calling me that," he grumbles. "No one takes me seriously when you call me that."

"I'm sorry," you playfully sigh. "You'll just always be Stevie to me, my little big brother."

--

Steve carries your picture back to the table where everyone has a shared concerned look on their faces. Except for Bucky, who looks downright murderous.

His thoughts are similar to Steve, he can't bring himself to hope that you survived.

And if you did, and Wanda did know you, then your situation was probably no different than Bucky's. And honestly, he wasn't sure which was worse yet. But he did know that the latter caused those violent feelings to burn in his chest again.

"Who's that?" Nat asks, nudging her head toward the frame Steve tightly clutches. 

"My sister," Steve exhales, gently laying the frame down in front of Wanda. "Is this her?"

Wanda sharply inhales, though the picture is weathered and marred by age, she recognizes your face instantly. Her eyes water with guilt as she looks at the picture. "Yes."

"Hold the phone, you don't have a sister," Tony interjects.

"I do," Steve absently nods, his mind racing trying to process what any of this means. "She's only a few years younger, but that's her, my sister."

"How do we not know this? Surely, there is some record of her existing somewhere. If you had a sister, I'd know about it," Tony insists.

"You wouldn't actually," Steve remorsefully admits. "It wasn't safe for her. Things happened to her because people knew who she was. I had all records of her erased. Her memory lived and died because of me."

"She's beautiful," Nat comments, placing a hand on Steve's shoulder to comfort him. 

--

Bucky can't look away from your picture, it had been years since he'd seen your face. He didn't even know Steve had anything of you left, but the image still remained as vivid as ever. It still felt like just yesterday. "Most beautiful girl in all of Brooklyn."

"The expo was amazing," you comment, your arm interlocked with Bucky's as you walk through the dimly lit streets. "Though I am surprised you didn't bring a date."

"And what do you think you are?" Bucky teases. "What do I need another girl for when I've got the most beautiful girl in Brooklyn on my arm?"

"You hush before Stevie hears you," you laugh, knowing how badly your brother reacted to you and Bucky.

How many times he's lectured both you and Bucky about flirting with each other. And in spite of your assurances that you and Bucky were just teasing, Steve never quite accepted that. 

Bucky's playfully eyes widen, "Well, we don't want that now, do we? He's already threatened me about leading you on before I leave."

"Then what are you doing here?" you coyly ask.

"But I'm not leading you on. The second I come back I'm going to put a ring on the pretty little finger," he swears, gently grazing your ring finger.

"Are you now?" you ask with a teasing tone and an eyebrow raised.

"I am."

It's quiet for a moment, the two of you are just aimlessly walking the streets arm-in-arm. Steve's with the date that Bucky got for him, leaving the two of you alone for once.

And melancholy tugs at your heart as you think about how much you're going to miss him, even worse, it terrifies you to your core that he may not come back. "What's wrong, Doll?"

"Nothing," you lie, though you're not sure why you even bother when you two have known each other long enough to know when the other wasn't being honest. Bucky shoots you a knowing look. You and Bucky you're practically kindred spirits, twin flames. Though your friends would use the word soulmates. You stop walking and grab him by the lapels. He offers no resistance to lower himself and meet your eyes. "You just better come back to me, alright?"

He rests his hands on yours. "I will. Promise."

"I swear, James, if you don't - I will bring you back just to kill you all over again."

He leans down, pressing his forehead to yours, he whispers, "I will."

Your hands loosen on his lapels, but he doesn't move away from you.

It's like one of those sappy romance movies. Time has suddenly stopped. Your breaths are coming harder and you're moving closer so slowly that you're not even sure who's moving.

At first, your lips just gently graze his. He's not even really sure that you just kissed him. He reconciles that this is his last night, and while he makes these promises to you, there's no guarantees in this life. So he goes for it, takes what he's wanted his entire life. He crushes his lips to yours, willing you to feel every burning emotion with intense sincerity. His hands move to your waist, pulling you flush against him. Your hands move to the nape of his neck, pulling him even closer.

You know that this isn't smart, doing this the night before he leaves. You're risking tearing yourself apart, breaking your own heart into a million little pieces, and yet you don't care. Not for one second. You move so naturally against Bucky, and he's never felt more right than at this very moment.

It isn't until some drunks behind you start wolf-whistling at you two that you pull away.

"Alright, show's over," Bucky shouts to the drunks across the street, but then he turns back to you. His blue eyes glimmering with naive hope and wistful promises. You look at Bucky, who's shockingly just as breathless and flushed as you are. And honestly, it's nice to know you affect him as much as he does to you. "Well, now I definitely have to come back."

--

"I don't understand. You have a younger sister. You somehow got rid of all evidence that she existed. And somehow Wanda knows her?" Tony prompts, clearly frustrated at the lack of reasoning in this entire scenario that he's not quite convinced is real.

"Which brings us back to that, Wanda?"

"It's...complicated."

"Well, then figure it out," Bucky demands, his hand slamming down on the table.

Steve rests his hand on Bucky's shoulder trying to calm him down, but also trying to tame his own rage and self-loathing. "Wanda, please."

She shakily nods, staring at the frame still sitting in front of her. Taunting her. Punishing her. "I don't know when she arrived. She was simply there when my brother and I arrived. On the ice, like you," she nods to Bucky. "They didn't take her off very often. She was considered a failed experiment."

"Failed? Failed how?" Steve quickly questions.

"Failed by HYDRA standards," she corrects. "She couldn't fight like Pietro and I. They only let her out when she was absolutely needed."

"And what did they need her for?" Bucky grits, both his hands curling into fists from unbridled rage.

Wanda's nervous, explaining this next part will not be easy and she knows that she may not get forgiveness for what she'd done. "She was a healer. Only when someone important was hurt would they take her out. She healed my brother once."

The nervousness on Wanda's face leads Bucky to believe there's more, something else that she's not saying. "What else?"

Wanda's voice breaks, remembering the absolute agony she put you through. "They made me. I had no choice."

"Made you what?"

"I- I don't- It's hard to explain."

"What did you do to her?" Bucky snaps.

"She was useful to them. They just had to bend her to their will."

"To their will?" Bucky seethes.

"Wanda, it's okay. We just need to know what happened. We don't blame you," Steve gently assures her.

"Speak for yourself," Bucky angrily remarks.

"Not helping," Steve hisses, still holding down Bucky in his seat.

Tears flow down Wanda's cheeks as she explains. She's not sure what they did before she arrived, but they used Wanda to torture you, psychologically torture. She shudders remembering the first time she looked in your head. All the happy memories of Steve and Bucky. Some that were so locked away she couldn't justify trying to reach them. 

When Wanda arrived, you believed your brother was dead. And it wasn't long before Bucky escaped. When he escaped, they told you that he was dead and it was your fault. A punishment for even thinking about escaping. You swore you hadn't. You wouldn't dare. You begged and pleaded with them to try to bring him back. But they assured you that you couldn't fix him.

Wanda's job was simple: she'd project the image of Steve and Bucky in your head. Sometimes one, sometimes both. It was an elaborate lie they'd created. Steve and Bucky would run into your cell, they'd tell you they were there to rescue you. You'd cry, knowing it wasn't real. Then the image would turn hideous, Steve and Bucky would shout at you, scream and blame you for their deaths. You'd go back into the ice crying and pleading to see them, that you were sorry and you'd never try to escape again. Sometimes you'd just beg Wanda to kill you.

"Where is she?" Bucky demands, almost shooting up out of his seat.

"Barnes," Tony warns, jumping in to defend Wanda. "She wouldn't know that."

"You don't know what she knows. She kept this from us," Bucky accuses, holding back not an ounce of his vitriol. 

"I didn't know. Those aren't my memories. It's difficult to keep track of. I swear."

"Bucky, let's just take a breath. Okay?" Steve mutters under his breath. He knew this wouldn't be helpful, that this would not bring you back any faster. 

"Is she even alive?" Bucky asks, ignoring Steve and staring at Wanda with a murderous glare.

Wanda definitely nods once. "Yes. The last time I saw her she was alive."

Steve sees the way Bucky's heart is breaking all over again. It's the same look on his face the day you were kidnapped. The day you were killed. Steve pulls on Bucky's arm, guiding him away from the table. "Bucky, let's take a walk."

Bucky wrenches his arm from Steve's hold, "No, we need to find her."

"I'll get started on locating any bases. Just go take a breath," Tony instructs. 

This time when Steve pulls him away, Bucky reluctantly lets him. He staggers out of the building, the crisp fall air doing nothing to calm him down. They've trailed the entire path of the Compound and still neither of them have said anything, only allowing the quiet crunch of the gravel to fill the silence.

"I miss her too, you know," Steve says, finally breaking the silence.

"I've always wondered why it was me. Why I survived and she didn't."

"I've wondered that myself," Steve admits and Bucky shoots him an incredulous look. Steve chuckles, before clarifying, "I meant for myself. When I woke up, out of the ice. I wondered why it wasn't her. Why I got a second chance and she didn't. Or in the museum, why she didn't have anyone remembering her."

"She'd give you so much crap for that, man," Bucky reluctantly chortles.

"I know she would," Steve laughs. "There isn't another person in the world that gave me as much sass as she did."

"Stevie, her little big brother," Bucky playfully reminisces.

"Oh, please don't bring that into this century."

--

You were undoubtedly confused when you got the notice that you were being transferred. Not a single person could tell you why or how, or even about the team you were being transferred to.

You were a damned good medic, but you wouldn't say you were all that much better than any of the other volunteers. But for some reason, you were chosen for this allegedly super important team.

You agreed immediately.

You wanted to do whatever it took to help the men that were serving your country. Every man you helped, every life you helped saved, you imagined Steve and Bucky. You'd seen Steve the day the serum was administered, but now his time was scarce. You didn't even know where he was most of the time. And he told you even less. You had no clue where they were, what they were doing, if they were okay.

You were all but left behind. 

So when you showed up to your new assignment, you weren't quite sure why you were so surprised to see Steve and Bucky.

You'd been caught red-handed. Though you knew that theoretically you did nothing wrong, you also knew Steve wouldn't agree. You knew he'd be upset you didn't tell him, even more upset that you were involving yourself at all.

Steve had not a clue that you volunteered yourself as a medic, at least not until he caught wind of your name. It was a night where Steve and Bucky were drinking at a local bar, enjoying one of their very few nights off.

Then they heard another soldier vulgarly describing the medic that helped save their life, Steve guffawed, but said nothing. Until he heard your name. Steve jumped to defend your name with Bucky behind him to make sure Steve didn't do anything too stupid.

And the very next morning, he went to go find out everything possible about what you were up to.

"Hey, Stevie," you awkwardly wave when you walk into the building.

"Don't 'Hey, Stevie', me. What were you thinking?" he furiously demands.

"Did I do something wrong?" you question.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asks.

He sounds hurt. Hurt and concerned that you could've somehow gotten hurt. That if somehow someone found out that you were Captain America's little sister, there would be a target on your back.

"There was nothing to tell!" you insist, scoffing at his hypocrisy. "I didn't do anything different than you and Bucky, so why am I getting scolded like a child?"

"You're getting scolded like a child because you're acting like a child!"

"How?" you exclaim. "Because I wanted to do something other than twiddle my thumbs waiting for you two to come back?"

"You're getting scolded for lying!" Steve emphasizes.

"You're such a hypocrite, Steve. You didn't tell me about the experiment until the day before it was done," you point out, refusing to back down. "How is what I did any different?"

"Bucky, can you please back me up here?" Steve asks, an exasperated expression on his face.

Bucky's eyes bounce between you and Steve. He'd always hoped that no matter what this would never change. The dynamic the three of you had, the way you and Steve would endlessly bicker like children. The way you and Bucky bickered like an old married couple. Anyone else would think that the three of you hated each other, but the last few months only cemented how lost you three would be without the others."Come on, Steve. You can't ask me to go against my girl."

"Oh," one of the other men chime in, taking a step forward to greet you. "You're Bucky's girl? It's a good thing you're here then. He never shuts up about you."

And possibly for the first time in your life, you see Bucky get flustered. His cheeks slightly darken when he realizes the consequences of his big mouth.

You two have always tip-toed around your feelings. Except for when he kissed you the night that he left, you were never sure that the flirting was anything more than just talk.

Bucky knew that.

He liked to make you flustered, to keep you on your toes. But he'd always meant every word he said, even if you didn't know that. 

Since you two were children he knew that you were the one for him. Eventually the game of cat and mouse would end, but this moment was one he'd never planned for. Now, he was the one flustered, he was the mouse and that wry smirk on your face told him that you weren't going to let that go.

"Oh, is that right?" you tease. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name?"

"'Timothy," the man replies sticking out his hand to shake.

"No one calls you Timothy," Bucky scoffs, rolling his eyes. 

"Just beautiful women," the man easily replies, winking at you.

"Watch it," Bucky warns.

"Hey," Steve objects simultaneously.

You smirk at Bucky as you shake his hand. "Well, Timothy, what exactly has Sergeant Barnes' said about me?"

The man playfully scoffs, a mischievous grin on his face, "What hasn't he said? He tells us all the time, his girl is the most beautiful girl in New York. How he's always fighting off all the men of Brooklyn."

"All the men of Brooklyn? Really?" you sarcastically remark, your eyes flickering back to Bucky.

"Well, we didn't believe him until now. He told us that he's going to marry you the second he gets back home."

"Did he say that?" you ask, your eyes never leaving Bucky's.

Bucky finally steps in, pulling you away from him. "All right. That's enough."

"No, I want to hear more about this," you insist, a laugh bubbling out of your mouth as you step out of Bucky's grasp.

And then you realize you've gone too far, when he says, "He said you're the best kiss he's ever had."

You, Steve, and Bucky all freeze at the revelation. You and Bucky were never planning on telling Steve about that night, and if you ever did, it certainly wouldn't have been when Steve was already upset with you and definitely not from a person that wasn't you or Bucky. 

And like his pig-headedness and his physical features, his protectiveness over you increased tenfold.

"He said what?" Steve demands.

The man freezes, realizing the teasing is over now.

"Stevie, it's not a big deal," you insist, stepping in front of him.

The other man makes some offhanded remark about needing to go do something and briskly walks out of the room, sensing that this next moment isn't going to be pretty.

"You kissed my sister?" Steve booms, taking a large step toward Bucky.

"Stevie, it's fine," you insist. "I'm a big girl. I can make my own decisions."

Bucky isn't sure what he's supposed to do. He doesn't feel bad about kissing you. He thinks it one of the best decisions he's ever made.

But Steve has definitely never been this angry with him, and Steve's also never been able to actually beat him up. It puts him in a tough spot. 

Steve takes another large, anger-filled step toward Bucky, who looks prepared, if not a little scared, to take whatever Steve doles out. Before any fists start flying between the two friends, you're stepping between the two of them, preventing Steve from approaching Bucky.

"Steve," you say his full name. He stops, his eyes snapping down at you. You never use his real name, so when you do, he knows you're not playing around. "Stop it."

"We're not done with this conversation," he threatens, looking more at Bucky than at you.

"Sure, Stevie, whatever you say," you appease, rolling your ease. "Now let's get back to work. Or did you just drag me down here to yell at me?"

"Funny," he mocks. "You'll be with my team."

"Doing?" you ask with an eyebrow raised.

"Well, you're a volunteer medic, right?"

You sigh, your shoulders dropping when you realize Steve's overbearing, almost insulting, plan: to keep you in his sight at all times. "Don't you guys need a real doctor? With a fancy degree and all that?"

"We have one," Bucky interjects, still keeping one eye on Steve. "But we could use all hands on deck."

"You just keep your hands to yourself," Steve abruptly warns Bucky.

"Come on, Stevie," you plead, and with your best puppy-dog expression you nudge him with your shoulder. "My little big brother." 

"I'm literally taller than you," he exhales, putting his arm around your shoulders.

You jokingly tap the side of your temple. "It's in here that counts."

But you don't put up any more opposition, if only to appease Steve, who makes no attempt to hide his displeasure with Bucky the entire time you're helping his team. Mission after successful mission, you're there patching the men up.

Most of the time, it's Steve with a few minor cuts and scrapes. When you have to patch up Bucky, Steve watches the two of you like a hawk. He doesn't ever look away making sure that nothing untoward is happening between you two.

Each time you sigh at Steve and remind him that you are two grown adults in full control of their faculties, that you and Bucky aren't just going to lose all self control and attack each other.

Steve won't hear any of it.

It's a dramatic shift in your group dynamic. You and Bucky are never allowed to be alone together, you're barely given any time to talk to him at all. Steve's two primary focuses are keeping you two apart and serving his country and he does both with an unheard of gusto.

That is until Peggy Carter enters the room, then Steve turns back into your little big brother.

You like Peggy, being the only two women on the team brings you two pretty close together. In fact, the night before a new mission starts, the entire team goes out to a local bar. You and Peggy help each other get ready then walk arm-in-arm to the local dive bar.

You don't miss the way Steve stumbles standing up when he see Peggy. And Peggy doesn't miss the way Bucky does the same when he sees you.

And as if he's reverted back to his old self, Steve blushes and tells Peggy how nice she looks. Then he shyly offers her an arm to dance, and for the first time in months, he leaves you and Bucky alone.

"You know, he must really like her if he's willing to leave us alone together," you joke, watching Steve guide Peggy to the make-shift dance floor.

Bucky laughs, the first time you've heard him laugh in months. "He must."

"Better for us," you murmur.

"Hmm," he hums, a teasing grin on his face. "And why is that?"

"Maybe I want to hear more about what you're telling people about me," you counter, turning to face him with a smirk. 

He takes a long pull from his drink, trying to hide the growing grin and blush on his face. "You're never going to let that go. Are you?"

"Nope," you confirm.

He smoothly turns in his stool to face you. Your knees are touching, and you can feel his breath as he leans into you. "I already told you. The second we get home, you're gonna buy a white dress. And we're gonna go to the courthouse," he whispers in your ear. His breath tickles your neck, but you can't bring yourself to move away from him. "And I'm gonna put a ring on that finger. And everyone will know you're mine. All mine. And it's gonna be you and me. Forever."

You're breathless when he pulls away to take another long drink. You're back to being the mouse in this little game, though it doesn't feel like much of a game anymore. You resist the urge to clutch your heaving chest or fan your burning face. "You've just- you've got it all planned out?"

"Absolutely. You're never gonna go back to the diner. And I'm gonna buy us a nice house. A big house, have us a few kids. They'll be beautiful, just like their mother, the most beautiful woman in New York."

You lean closer to Bucky. At this point, you're pushing the boundary of public decency, but neither of you care all that much. You don't even care that at any moment Steve could turn his head and see the two of you.

This time there's no quick-witted remark or teasing comment you have to throw back at him. When you look at Bucky, you see promises. Real promises. And you believe him. "I can't wait."

He's so close that his breaths are now yours. And you don't see a hint of his charming or smooth-talking self. He means it this time. "Me either."

"Would you - would you like to walk me to my room?"

He nods silently. Without breaking his gaze, you grab your jacket while Bucky slaps some bills on the counter. He helps you put your jacket on, then holds his arm out for you.

The walk is silent, but charged with so much palpable tension between the two of you.

When you finally make it to the door, Bucky's watching as your shaking hands unlock the door. He hesitates at the door knowing that you're not just anybody. He wants to do this right, but mission after mission he's worried. Worried everyday about what comes next.

All he knows right now is that he's never going to love anyone the way he loves you. Never.

He slowly leans down and presses the sweetest, most gentle kiss to your lips. Your breath hitches as he takes another step forward, his hands find your waist as he leaves the doorway. When you shut the door, you shut out everything else.

And all that remains is the love you two share like a whispered oath destined to be lost to the fate's design.

--

Bucky keeps those memories on a loop as he enters the underground HYDRA post you're being held in. As he tears through the people keeping the two of you apart. As holds up a man in a lab coat and demands to know where you are. 

The man sputters directions and with anxiety-riddled hands, points to the a small concrete corridor. 

And then as he rams down the heavy steel door. 

And he's in. In the small, concrete room. And you sit there, not even paying him any attention. He calls your name. Once. Twice. Three times. 

You don't even look up at him before you spit, "Go to hell."

"What?" Bucky exhales in shock.

"I said, 'go to hell'," you seethe, bringing your knees to your chest to press yourself further into the corner of the room. "I know you're not real."

"Doll?"

"Stop it," you demand, slapping your hands over your ears. You chant to yourself, "You're not real."

He tries to pull your hands down, but they're clamped so tightly over your ears that he can't move them without hurting you. You're still tucked in the corner, practically rocking yourself back and forth. Your hands still over your ears, you sob, "I'm sorry, okay? Is that what you need to hear? I tried - I swear I tried, but they wouldn't let me see you. I couldn't save you."

"I'm right here, Doll. You don't need to save me."

"I know you're not real. You're dead. I know you're out there!" you call out to whatever cruel person is orchestrating this again. "I know he's gone! It won't work anymore."

"There's no one out there. It's just you and me."

"You're lying!" you shout, finally dropping your hands but still not making eye contact with him. It hurts too much. Every time you look in his eyes, it feels real. It feels like he's alive again. And every time you have to lose him. "You died. You're dead. Just leave me be - I promise I won't think about running again. I promise, just please stop."

Bucky's mind races, trying to figure out what he can say to make you believe that it's him. "We spent the night together - the night before Zola took you."

Your head snaps up. This was new. To your knowledge neither you nor Bucky ever told a soul about that night. You both swore to take that night to your graves, if only to avoid Bucky invoking Steve's wrath. "How do you know that? No one knows that."

He stares at your tired, defeated eyes, willing you to see his sincerity. "I know that because it's really me."

"I don't believe you."

"You're Steve Rogers' little sister," he continues. "I know about that one time when we were kids, you overheard some punk talking about jumping Steve in the alley after school. And you took your favorite hard cover and hit him right over the head. Then over and over until he promised he wouldn't mess with him anymore. I was the one that pulled you off of him and you got in trouble for cracking your book- all because you refused to tell anyone what really happened. I know you hate your middle name, but I'm the only person you told because it's a family name and you don't want to be disrespectful. It's me. It's Bucky."

You eyes widen at the stories. Stories you'd never told anyone. Stories you willed yourself to repress to keep them untainted and as pristine as the day you lived them. And maybe you were a fool, still filled with hopeless naivety, but you believed him. A helpless whimper leaves your mouth, "They told me you died."

"I'm not dead. I'm right here," he promises.

"It's really you?" you whisper.

"It's me. I promise."

"Bucky?"

He smiles, feeling his broken heart slowly mending, "Hi, Doll."

Though you remain cautious and borderline untrusting, you allow Bucky to take your hand and pull you up. For a moment, he takes in the sight of you. For the first time in decades, he sees you and even he can't believe it.

He'd changed the fates' cruel design into something that glistened and glowed once more. 

--

“Steve?” Nat gently calls, knocking on the wood of the conference table. He looks up, completely lost in thought. “Your sister, she’s here. You know that, right?”

“I know.”

“You look pretty bummed for a person that just got their beloved little sister back.”

“I’m not,” he assures her, gently shaking his head. “I’m so happy, so excited.”

“You don’t look like a man that’s either of those things, Steve. You want to tell me what’s wrong?” Nat urges, taking the seat next to him.

“She was a waitress, you know," Steve unexpectedly offers. "Before she volunteered to be a medic, she worked at this crappy diner a few blocks from where we lived.” Nat remains silent, waiting for Steve to continue. “And she used to work so hard, so, so hard for us.”

“I’m sure you worked hard too.”

“Sure,” he scoffs, shaking his head. “But it was different. At the diner, all these scumbags would come in and flirt with her all day long. They never did anything to her, thank God. But she’d let them, just so she wouldn’t lose her job. She’d smile and play along so they wouldn’t hold tips over her head. Jerks just coming in and asking her for a smile, and she just - she had to. She was the one people liked, she lost a lot of friends because she was always defending me. When it should've been the other way around.”

“She sounds tough.”

Steve chuckles, his voice filled with wistful nostalgia, “She was- is. She’s the best. I’d defend her whenever I could, whenever things got out of hand. Sometimes Bucky would step in, he'd tell anyone that would listen that she was off limits. They’d relentlessly flirt with each other. And then I enlisted. And I left her there all alone.”

“And she volunteered,” Nat concludes, putting the pieces of your distant history together. 

“Yeah, but I didn’t - I didn’t handle it well. I forced her onto my team and then-” he falters, remembering the chain of events that lead to your demise. 

That mission. Losing two of the people he loved most all in one fell swoop. First you. Then Bucky. He'd dream about it most nights. Helplessly watching as you clutched your bloodied shoulder. Grasping the railing for dear life. And falling without anyone to catch you. 

“Whatever happened wasn’t your fault, Steve.”

“It is,” he forcefully insists. He remembers it so very well. The objection on your face when he told you that you were staying with him so he could keep an eye on you. How he opened those floodgates, he was the very reason his enemies knew of your existence. And then they exploited it. “I left her there in that tent. I left her unprotected, Bucky told me. He told me he’d stay with her, but I didn’t listen. No, I was too stubborn to listen and I left her there. All alone. And they took her. And when I found her, that day on the train, I didn’t protect her. Her or Bucky. I never protected her the way she deserved to be protected. And I lost them both, all at once."

“Talk to her, Steve. You just have to talk to her.”

“Then what? How do I take away everything that happened to her because of me?”

“It wasn’t your fault,” she insists.

“How do I even look her in the eye?” he continues.

“You do! You just do! And you figure it out, you figure out how to live with the mistakes that we’ve all made. You’re not perfect, but right now you just got your sister back. Your little sister is here in the other room. And I’m sure she’s going to want to see you.”

"I don't think she will," he quietly admits. 

"She's already asked for you," Nat informs him, standing up out of her seat. "She hasn't stopped talking about you, mostly because Tony and Sam are demanding to hear every single embarrassing story she has ... And she definitely told Tony some pretty embarrassing nicknames."

He chuckles halfheartedly, still choked up the overwhelming guilt, "I'll be there in a minute."

--

After a month in the Compound, you can't take it anymore.

Though everyone has repeatedly told you that you're not being kept under lock and key, it certainly feels like it. 

You've barely spoken to Steve in the month since you've been back. And the few words you've pulled out of him, he doesn't even meet your eye.

His words are short. The interactions cold, fleeting, and practically meaningless. He doesn't even say anything about Bucky being attached to your hip. 

And you were suffocating in the silence. 

The others, Steve's friends, tried to make you feel welcome, to explain away his behavior. But in the silence, you came to your own conclusions. Crushing, suffocating, and entirely heart-wrenching, like the rest of the world, your last remaining family moved on. 

You couldn't fault him, the world kept turning, people marched forward, not even Steve could stop that from happening. 

It was a world that you didn't recognize anymore. Surrounded by unfamiliar technology, equally unfamiliar faces, and even more unfamiliar emotions, you left early this morning to look for something tangible. You left Bucky still sleeping in your bed, without a note, or informing anyone else, you simply walked off the Compound in search for anything recognizable.

What you found, you did not like.

After almost half a day of trekking to the city, you stand in front where the diner once stood. Now, a new shiny establishment in its place. But it's not just the diner, it's all of New York. The world had moved on. Your own brother had moved on. All without you. 

You were a relic of a time long passed. 

He couldn't even stand the sight of you anymore. 

Everything except that alley. You stand right at the entrance, in some odd way, it was comforting that it remained as disgustingly dirty as it had decades prior. You look at the dead end, remembering Steve's attempt to save you from an overzealous patron. 

"Don't say a word," an unfamiliar voice says from behind you. 

Your shoulders stiffen as you feel the rigid metal of a gun pressed into your arm. Apparently, some things never changed. 

"I'm really not in the mood for this," you caution through gritted teeth. 

"Are you stupid?" the man sneers, grabbing your arm and pushing your further into the alley. "I want the bag. Everything you got. Now."

"No."

"No?" the man scoffs, taking his gun out of his pocket to point it at you. Even with the gun in your face, you still refuse to back down. You're angry. You're hurt. This was just another drop in the bucket at this point. You were a woman scorned. On the verge, the very precipice. Your patience had worn thin, and it was so recklessly evident. "You've got a death wish or something? Give me the bag."

"No," you repeat. "Trust me, sir, I am in no mood to be tested."

"Are you crazy?" the man demands, reaching out to snatch the bag from you. 

You pull the bag out of his reach, defiantly tucking it just behind you.

Before you can continuing arguing with the armed robber, you see a familiar sight bolting down the alley. This time there's no call of your name. No warning to the man to leave you alone. Steve simply acts.

Acts like the annoyingly overbearing, overprotective older brother he's always been. Protecting you like he'd always wished he could. 

The man sputters, recognizing Steve as he tosses him aside against the exposed brick. 

"Steve," you hiss, trying to pull him away. "That's enough."

He ignores you, angrily picking up the man and pinning him against the wall, clearly letting out all of his pent up anger and frustrations on the man. You wouldn't argue that the man was innocent, but he certainly didn't deserve all of Steve's very pointed wrath. "Apologize."

"I- I'm sorry," the man stammers, looking at you in desperation as though you can just call Steve off. 

You scoff, not at the robber, but at Steve. 

“Steven Grant Rogers, let that man go,” you order. Steve looks at you, your furious expression. He reluctantly removes his forearm from the man’s neck. Slowly turning away from the man and back to you. At the sight of his anger filled expression, you snap, flicking his shoulder, “What is the matter with you?” 

“Did you just flick me?” Steve incredulously asks, flicking your shoulder in retaliation. You barely notice the man taking off nor that Bucky had arrived and was now watching the distantly familiar scene play out. “How freaking old are you?” 

In return, you flick his forehead. “I should ask you the same thing. You think you can just swing at people like nothing? Pin them up against walls by their throat?”

“Guys,” Bucky says, trying to interrupt whatever he just stumbled upon and let the two of you know that you just let that man get away.

He flicks your other shoulder. “I was defending you.”

You flick him twice in return, “You haven’t even spoken to me the entire time I’ve been back and now you want to defend me?!”

"Guys," Bucky tries again, only marginally louder.

“Well, maybe you should stop running away!” Steve shouts.

“I’m not running away. You're the one avoiding me!”

“You left the Compound without telling anyone!”

“I was fine - I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”

“Or maybe your pig head just doesn't know how to ask for help.”

"Well, maybe I learned it from my stubborn ass of a brother!" you shoot back.

"Or maybe it's your smart mouth that-"

"Guys!"

"What!?" you and Steve shout simultaneously.

Instead of saying what he wanted to say or telling them both to calm down or anything of actual importance, he stops with a cheeky grin on his face.

For a moment, the deja vu overwhelms him. It's like he's back in the 40's. He's just found you and Steve in an alley, he's saving Steve, you two are bickering nonstop, he's relentlessly chasing you. He debates opening his mouth to tell the two of you that the guy got away, but he doesn’t. “I - erm. You guys sure do know how to find trouble, don't you?”

For a moment, all of the bad things, all the time you three spent apart, it's all gone. It's completely meaningless.

The clock reversed and brought back what once was his.

Saved what once was lost.

Healed what was hurt.

And changed the fates' design...

AnonymityIsFun Masterlist Bucky Barnes Masterlist

[homoqueerjewhobbit]

If Marvel isn't going to treat its own movies like canon, why should we?

[marveledits]

CAPTAIN AMERICA: THE WINTER SOLDIER (2014) dirs. Anthony & Joe Russo

[misscherry-26]

Soulmate au where first five words are written on the chest. Steve rogers is trying to find his until is getting attacked by reader zemo, the sister of baron zemo. he found out that reader is his soulmate

It's you - Steve Rogers

Summary: In a world where five letters define who will be the love of your life. Steve finds his soulmate in an unexpected way.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Fem!Zemo reader 

Author’s note: Okay yes, I think I might need to watch the movies again because I'm already a bit rusty about Steve, and to be honest,there are things I don't remember anymore, but I tried my best, hahaha.

Hope you like it and thanks for requesting!

Five letters. Steve has had those five letters tattooed on his right chest for as long as he can remember. Well, it's not his fault. Everyone in the world was born like this. Five letters. 

Five letters that determine who is your soulmate, your better half. The person you will spend the rest of your life with. 

Everyone, including his friends, his family, have found their life partner but Steve… Years. He hasn't found his in years. 

So focused on them, he doesn't hear Nat knocking lightly on the door. Steve responds with a slight come in. 

“Steve” is the first thing Nat says as she opens the door. Steve turns to find her standing in the doorway of it. 

"What?" He asks as he walks over to his closet to find a shirt to wear.  

"Tony is looking for you." He just nods and walks out of the room with her.

“Rogers, Zemo escaped. I need you to go to the prison and find out how. You have to find  him." It's the first thing he hears when he enters the room. Tony has his back to him, he’s at the computers. Typical of him. Tony turns to wait for a response from him. Steve nods, letting him know that he will.

Ready to leave to get ready, Stark stops him one last time. “Also. He didn't do it alone. Looks like someone helped him. I need you to find out who. Be careful and good luck."

-

“It’s incredible, the cell has sensors everywhere, but they didn't activate, there were no hits, no cuts, nothing. Whoever helped him must have been an expert.” Explains the director of the maximum security prison, in which Zemo was held as a prisoner.

Steve carefully observes any aspect that is altered that could serve as a clue. But it’s impossible to find a mistake.

"What about the cameras?" He asks.

“They didn't detect anything. We don't know how someone got in, or if they got out of here-"

Steve stops at the last bit and cuts him off, “Wait. You said you don't know if they got out of here?

-

The director approaches Steve. After coming to the conclusion that Zemo, and whoever helped him, are still inside the prison, hiding, Steve suggested that they disable the main entrances and exits and turn off the lights.

“All set captain, when you give the ok, we'll execute the plan” Steve nods. "The team is located at the entrances and exits, did they give you a radio?"

“Yes,” He points to his belt, where he has it.

The director nods.

“Let's get started then,” Steve confirms.

“Well, you heard the captain! initiate protocol!”

Three… two… one… Everything goes dark.

Steve, along with other guards accompanying him behind, head towards one of the exit doors of the prison. All with night vision goggles and heat detectors. Like in old school.

They all take their positions, ready to catch them, if they're still here.

One of the guards approaches Steve. "Captain, I detect two figures in sector three."

Steve looks at the small tablet that shows two heat spots. It has to be Zemo.

"Okay, I'll go investigate, stay alert."

The guard nods.

Steve is cautious with every step he takes. Quietly following the screen, he's maybe a couple of meters away. I got you. He thinks referring to Zemo.

He prepares to catch it. Not only Zemo, but also the one who helped him.

He turns off the tablet, so as not to attract attention with the brightness that it emanates. He is about to pick up the radio to tell the rest that he already has it, but he chooses not to do so so as not to generate noise and attract attention.

It was a smart decision since he could hear the footsteps. He was right, they're still here.

Steve braces himself, ready to catch him when…somebody punches him in the leg causing him to fall to the ground.

“I told you they would be here!” says a slightly more feminine voice? Steve thinks. But who is it? Who would help him?

"Zemo, come on!" Zemo and the female voice that he cannot recognize begin to run

Steve gets up quickly. He has to put a little weight on the other leg at first but then he gets into a rhythm, quickly grabs the radio and turns it on and alerts everyone. "They're here! I repeat! Activate the protocol, they're still inside!" Without waiting for a response from the rest, he begins to run to catch up with them.

Steve hears how in the distance the voice seems to rush Zemo. He quickens his pace to at least catch up with him and hold him. Have the guards take care of the assistant.

Through the night vision goggles he can tell that he's close to him.

Three steps were enough to knock Zemo down... well, at least he thought so. If he took down Zemo, just not the Baron.

"Ouch!" That didn't sound like the baron.

The lights suddenly come on. And that's when Steve realizes that the one he caught wasn't the Baron. But a woman.

"Who are you?"

The woman was familiar to him, the features. As if she were the exact copy of someone, only the opposite sex. She tries to wriggle out of his grasp, but Steve is obviously stronger.

"Answer me! Who are you!?"

Obviously the woman seems to be unreceptive, as she ignores him and continues to focus on getting out of his grasp. She manages to tackle Steve and break free. She starts running. Steve chases her, a few meters away. She tries to get to Zemo but he is already surrounded by guards, he looks at her, implying that she doesn't worry about him. She struggles but realizing that Steve is close to catching up with her, she decides to separate, searching for another way.

"You guys take care of Zemo! I'll go get her!" He yells at the  guards before turning the other way.

Y/n runs without looking back. I need to hide, make them think I escaped, and then come back for my brother. But it is impossible, these corridors are pure walls, there are no gaps, doors, no nowhere to hide. she only has to run. But as she runs, her body gets tired. She has accumulated fatigue. Spending months planning the escape, nights hacking the cameras, studying every part of the prison, his body doesn't give any more. I should have thought about this too, damn it.

She's so submissive in her thoughts as she runs, she doesn't realize that Steve, with his shield, stops her, causing her to fall to the ground. The blow was very strong, she couldn't get up. From her pants pocket, she takes out her little knife.

Steve walks over to her, but quickly backs away, reflexively seeing how she points her knife at him.

As she can,  she gets up and gets into a fighting stance.

"I don’t want to fight with you. Put down the knife please."

"What? Are you afraid of hurting me?” she replies sarcastically. "I'm not afraid of you, Captain"

“I just want to know why you helped Zemo”, Steve approaches slowly but with his guard up.

“Why wouldn't I help him? He's my brother ".

Steve doesn't answer, Zemo has a sister?

Y/n is not swayed by the captain's attempted compassion and attacks him, he dodges the attack to the side. They both start a fight. Y/n attacks him with the knife while Steve takes cover with his shield dodging. He pushes her to the ground with his shield and gets on top of her, takes the knife from her and slashes across her chest, ripping open the outfit she's wearing of hers.

The knife falls to the ground. Steve is petrified. Y/n doesn't understand anything.

"It can't...be..." Steve's eyes seem to be fixed on the woman's chest.

She takes her gaze to where he is looking at her tattoo. She sighs as he closes her eyes.

Those five letters have been there, branded on her body for as long as she can remember. But she never managed to find the other person. And she never believes that she will.

The next thing surprises her even more.

Steve takes the knife to make a small slash right in the same area, opening up his suit a bit, showing her his tattoo. Neither he nor she can believe it.

"It's you..." Both say at the same time...

[spideyjlaw]

oh well you haven’t watched the big three—

i’ve watched the big three. i have watched the big three.

[sidneyfreedmans]

[lay-z]

» no limit to your love «

MCU | Stucky x f!Reader | 18+ ♥

Summary: Your period is kicking your ass, but luckily you have two wonderful men in your life who are eager to take care of you.

Warnings/Info: 18+ only! If periods or period sex grosses you out, this ain’t for you. | sexting; period sex; mention of (period) blood; explicit language; FLUFF; masturbation (m&f); creampie; threesome m/f/m; fingering; blowjobs; unprotected sex

Word count: 3.9k

My baby box is killing me today; we can all agree that periods, though necessary (I guess), suck. I usually get mine regularly, I don’t take birth control anymore since I see no need in using it and I’m pretty scared of the way it messes up my body; that’s just a personal preference though. So, this is for all my sisters who must deal with this shit, and sometimes even worse. My heart goes out to y’all! xoxo ♥

FYI, I finished this at 2 in the morning and didn’t proof read, so...yeah. lol

You cling to the fuzzy heating bottle stuffed between the waistband of your sweatpants and your lower stomach. You’ve finally managed to find a position on the bed which somehow eases the period cramps who have been tormenting you since the early hours of the morning.

You’re late this month, almost a week, and though you panicked at first, a negative pregnancy test took a weight off your shoulders. No, your uterus just decided that work stress and a bad cold were enough to mess up your cycle for this and perhaps the next month. Damn you, mother nature.

Damn you, for real.

The painkillers you have taken some hours ago are already wearing off, and you’re bracing yourself for more pain, rocking back and forth in a fetus position, until you can take some more pills.

You’ve taken a personal day from work, many hours of working overtime for Pepper have allowed you to, and so far, you couldn’t do much but survive. She sent you an e-mail, telling you not to worry about her and get better soon, she’ll manage a day or two without her personal assistant.

You fumble around and find your smartphone tangled up between the many blankets, and when you unlock the screen a tired smile appears on your lips. Of course, your boyfriends have called and sent various messages; asking how you’re doing and if they can get you anything after work.

You wallow in your misery as you text them back, relying on their pity for you. Yes, you do enjoy the attention you get from them; it’s so refreshing to be with someone who reacts with understanding and sympathy to this time of the month. Especially if you’ve experienced nothing but the opposite before.

They reply fast. Steve sends you a selfie in his uniform, pouting with a sad face. You recognize the area he’s in, and the isolated corner he snuck to snap the picture. You’ve made out with him there before. A message follows, no emojis.

Hang in there, honey! We’ll be home soon

You bite your lower lip as your mind wanders to the hot make out session you and Steve had in that corner. It was in the early stage of your relationship with him and Bucky, when the three of you thought you were good at keeping it a secret.

Without thinking further, you roll over on your back and lift your shirt to expose your breasts, taking a quick nude for him. Except for your cheeky smile and tongue poking out between your lips, your face is not in the picture. One hand covers your breasts and nipples half-heartedly; you adjust the lighting a bit before sending it.

Bucky sends you a short video of himself blowing you a kiss with a wink, and you giggle giddily at the sight. It’s so cheesy, but you love it. There are voices in the background. Sam is laughing, probably pointing his finger at Bucky, who’s face changes into a sour frown as he looks away from the camera.

“Shut the fuc –“

The video ends abruptly, and you break out laughing as your fantasy fills in what probably happened next. You ponder what you could send him in return when a new message in your chat with Steve pops up at the top of your screen.

You’re killing me here, Y/N

Four sweating emojis and a burning heart; you click your tongue, pleased with yourself. You rub your thighs together and notice a familiar tingle growing in your groins. Mixed with the fading pain of your cramps, the feeling turns bittersweet.

Another message from Bucky:

Stevie gets blessed by a nude and I get left on read? That’s just rude, darling.

A single broken heart emoji. Ouch. You open the message and send him the same picture you sent Steve.

I got distracted by the thought of your cock in my mouth, love. I’m sorry.

You stare at the screen as the chat shows him typing, but Steve is quicker and sends you another message. Rolling your eyes with a smile, you switch chats and wonder why they don’t just use the group chat instead.

Why did Buck just bite his fist? Are you at least having fun tormenting us?

You send him a laughing emoji, and the woman shrugging her shoulders.  

I’m feeling twirly, Cap. Come home soon or I’ll have to take care of myself…

You stare at his simple reply with a grin.

I dare you, missy.

You close the chat, leaving him on read and open the picture Bucky just sent you. He’s in a bathroom, lifting his black shirt to reveal his muscular chest and flexing abs to you, but your focus is on the prominent bulge in his pants. Bucky has never been good at juicy nudes.

Tits for tits? Mine are better…is that a gun in your pants or am I just making you happy?

Careful, doll, you’re the twirly one here. I’ll show you how happy I am when I’m home.

You giggle and rub your thighs together once more as a thrill of anticipation shoots through your body, numbing the cramping pain for a moment.

Bet, Sarge.

The cramps return as soon as you walk around the apartment for more than ten minutes, but you grit your teeth and swallow another round of painkillers with a tall glass of water. They should do for a couple of hours; enough time to get some food in your belly and take a steaming shower.

You cook fettuccine al burro, one of your favorite pasta dishes; it’s hearty dish, creamy and perfect for your current state, and you indulge in some homemade chocolate mousse afterwards. You put the leftovers back in the fridge, just in case your men are hungry when they come home, whenever that may be.

You know what it means to be part of the Avengers, even if you’re not one yourself. Even if they say they’ll be home at a certain time, something can always come up last minute and force them to stay at work longer. You know Pepper goes through the same thing with Tony, and it’s something you two have bonded over: worrying about your men.

You check your phone again after cleaning up the kitchen and putting away your dishes, and you rub your throbbing stomach soothingly as you stare at Bucky’s last message.

Something came up, we’ll try to get home ASAP!!

That was two hours ago, no further update, and you don’t want to annoy them with your neediness today. You put your phone on the wireless charger on your nightstand and grab your purple bath robe before you drag your feet into the adjacent bathroom.

Though reluctant and whiney at first, you soon relax as the hot water hits your tense muscles while the shower soon fogs up with steam. You take your time shaving, it’s hard enough to shave in the shower anyway, and you decide to wash and deep condition your hair, too.

As you look down, you can see thin streams of blood mixed with water run down your thighs, down your legs, and pooling at your feet before disappearing in the drain. You wash the blood away and decide to hurry up.

You feel your legs up for any remaining stubble one more time and find them smooth as ever, same for your freshly shaved pussy. It’s strange, but shaving always gets you in the mood afterwards, though the feeling of horniness is even more intense when you happen to be on your period.

You cup your hand over your folds and run your fingers over the soft skin as you face the shower stream. You’re suddenly very aware of your sensitive breasts feeling heavier than usual, and tender nipples as the water runs over your chest and shoulders. You flinch as you tease your clit the tiniest bit, and you let your head loll back with your eyes closed as you brace yourself on the wall with your free hand.

You lick your tongue over your wet lips and gasp as you get lost in the feeling of your fingertips rubbing circles over your clit, and you’re too occupied to hear  the shower curtain get pushed aside.

“Didn’t Steve tell you to wait for us, doll?”

You open your eyes just as Bucky slips inside the shower behind you, not caring at all about you currently bleeding. He covers your mouth with his fleshy hand, smothering your high-pitched scream, and wraps his metal arm around your waist to hold you still.

Your chest is heaving, heart thumping hard, and eyes staring wide as you grip and claw at both his flesh and metal hand with your own.

“Shhh, Y/N, it’s just me”, Bucky chuckles and kisses your temple. “I’m sorry I scared you, but I couldn’t help myself”

You exhale hard trough your nose, but your legs are still trembling, and your heart beating fast as he takes his hand off your mouth. Bucky loosens his iron grip around your waist and urges you to turn around.

Your eyes soften as you gaze up at his handsome face with his dorky smile.

“Hello, James”

“Hi, dollface”, he says and leans down to capture your lips in a sweet kiss; just as you’re about to wrap your arms around his neck, he grabs your wrists and holds your hands in place. His steel blue eyes roam over your naked, wet body and he licks his full lips in anticipation.

“Will you help me clean up?”, he asks with puppy eyes, that damn look which always gets him what he wants from you, and he holds the soaked-up bath sponge out to you.

You roll your eyes with a smile and take it from his metal hand before leathering it up with body wash. Bucky switches sides with you, so he can soak under the shower stream, and he pinches your ass cheek as you scrub at his chest and you tweak his nipple in return.

“Don’t play with me, Bucky”, you pout at him and nudge his chest as his flesh hand keeps fondling your breasts. “I’m tense, and you know what that means”

“Hm, I can tell you couldn’t finish”, he snickers but stops as you glare up at him warningly. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry – Y/N, no, don’t leave!”

You step out of the shower and dodge his grabby hands with a giggle as you reach for the fluffy, navy blue towel. He looks after you like a sad stray left in the rain, hair wet and dripping on the small carpet.

“You better hurry up, Buck, or I will have Stevie take care of me!”, you shout over your shoulder and know he could hear you, despite the running water.

You swiftly tiptoe back into the bedroom with the towel wrapped around your body, and your thighs are squeezed together awkwardly as your fear of leaking grows. Even if your boyfriends are neither grossed out by period blood, nor would care if an accident would happen, you still feel uncomfortable somehow, so you swiftly rummage through one of your drawers for a tampon.

Suddenly, strong arms embrace you from behind with a soft, drawn-out sigh. Steve nuzzles his nose into the nape of your neck and inhales your scent. His beard scratches your skin, but it’s not uncomfortable and you lean back into his bare chest, enjoying the feeling of home and safety.

“Captain Rogers”

His breath tickles your neck as he exhales sharply, chest vibrating with his low chuckle.

“Yes, ma’am?”

You turn around in his embrace and wrap your hands around his neck the way Bucky didn’t let you previously, and you run your fingers through his damp hair. He must’ve taken a shower in the guest bathroom downstairs.

Steve quirks an eyebrow at first, but obeys as you stand on your tiptoes, practically begging for a kiss. You force your tongue into his mouth, always bolder than America’s ass, and you can taste the minty toothpaste on his tongue.

“Did you eat leftovers and then brush your teeth for me?”, you ask as you pull back.

He nods with a sheepish smile. “I didn’t wanna taste garlicy”

You giggle and kiss him some more. However, Steve has more plans and lifts you off the ground with ease. He carries you over to the bed and places you in the middle of the mattress. His hands reach for the towel knot at your bosom as he hovers over you, but you panic a little and try to get up.

“What is it, honey?” He searches your face with worried eyes while you squirm and rub your lower abdomen.

Your body feels hot, your stomach is tight with want and the desire to be fucked rough and fast. A strange feeling, considering the pain and cramps. Shouldn’t this be the last thing you should want right now?

“I don’t know, I…don’t you guys think it’s gross?”, you ask meekly, biting at your lower lip as you stare up at Steve’s deep blue eyes.

His brows wrinkle as he looks down at you, and you tense up under his gaze until he cups your cheek and strokes his thumb over your skin soothingly.

“Is that what you fear? Me and Buck thinking that you or your natural bodily functions are gross, hm?”

He scoffs and pulls at your towel once more, this time you let him, and the knot comes undone with ease, baring your naked body to his lustful gaze. You watch his muscular chest heave as he inhales deeply, and your stomach flutters when you notice his erection straining against the fabric of his sweatpants.

“Honey…we could never”

Your nipples harden painfully as the chilly air in the room collides with your heated body temperature, and you grimace for a second and grip your breasts to soothe the pain.

“Stevie’s right, we could never”, Bucky agrees as he enters the room with a towel wrapped around his waist and droplets of water running down his toned body. “As for the mess –” He holds up two folded black towels with his fleshy hand and grins. “I got that one covered”

You yelp softly as Steve lifts you off the mattress again, bridal style, so Bucky can lay out the dry towels swiftly to prevent any “accidents”. You’re placed back down, and Steve wastes no time as he lays next to you. He spreads your thighs and puts one leg over his hip before his large hand dives down to cup your pussy leisurely.

Your one hand kneads your tit while the other holds onto Steve’s bulging biceps as he fondles your pussy. He sucks hickeys on your neck here and there, a bittersweet sensation as your groin is lit on fire and murmurs sweet nothings against your burning skin.

Your mind is slowly clouded up by lust, but there is one more pair of eyes watching the scene intently, and when you find Bucky standing at the edge of the bed with his cock throbbing in his fleshy hand, your head lolls back into the pillows, and a needy mewl escapes your throat while Steve rolls your clit between his fingers.

“Please, just…fuck me”, you whine desperately and paw at the waistband of Steve’s pants. You’re talking to both beautiful men, but one of them must go first after all, and by the second your pussy starts throbbing more, begging to be filled.

Your eyes are closed, your thighs spread wider as you wait eagerly for one of them to fuck you into the mattress. You’re not aware of the silent agreement between your men, they could be playing rock-paper-scissors for all you care, but there is some shuffling eventually, a switching of positions and finally, a heavy body on top of yours.

“I’ll go slow, doll”, Bucky mutters against your skin before nipping at your earlobe. You look into his dark pupils, enlarged by desire, and shake your head. You get a hold of his metal arm, braced next to your head while his other hand holds on to your thigh.

“Don’t hold back, Sarge”

His nostrils flare as he breathes hard, and if you didn’t know him so well, he would look intimidating. He lets go of your thigh and rubs his precum-leaking cockhead against your folds before penetrating your quivering cunt. His thick cock glides into you with ease, and the sudden fullness makes it harder to breathe for a few seconds.

“Fuck, you feel so good, baby”

Bucky ruts into you with rough, controlled snaps of his hips, and every stroke makes you see stars dance behind your eyelids.

“Steve”, you whimper as you take Bucky’s cock, and your other man appears next to you when you reach out your hand. “I wan-t you too”

“You’re so good for us, honey”, Steve says and kisses your knuckles affectionately. “always so eager to please, even when we want to take care of you”

Burying your fingers in Bucky’s thick hair, you capture his plush lips with your own, and moan shamelessly when he speeds up his strokes. You feel yourself getting greedy and needy while you chase your release, and you want both to come inside you tonight, too.

Bucky groans and slows down again when Steve pats his shoulder. Time to switch positions, you’re familiar with that cue. Your pussy clings to Bucky’s cock as he flips you over on all fours while Steve kneels in front of you now. You tits feel heavy and tender in this position, pressed against the towels, and you feel the need to have their calloused hands all over your body.

You gaze up at Steve with hooded eyes and poke your tongue out between your lips. He smirks at you, one hand down his pants as he pats your cheek with the other gently.

“Such a good girl”

A high-pitched moan escapes your lips as Bucky grabs your hips and grinds his cock deeper into your pussy at this angle.

“Careful with our girl, Buck, she’s so sensitive tonight”, Steve scolds him, but Bucky continues to fuck you just as deep though slowly.

“Now, open up, honey”, Steve coos, and you open your mouth eagerly to suck his cock. His slit is leaking precum, and he shudders when you lick it with your flat tongue. You manage to brace yourself on one hand and use the other to fondle his full sac as you try to take him deeper down your throat.

Bucky groans, his voice strained, and you know he’s close. You wiggle your hips encouragingly, and despite Steve’s warning, Bucky understands the assignment. His grip around your hips tightens and he adjust his stance before fucking into you mercilessly.

You moan around Steve’s large cock down your throat, tears mixing with the spit leaking from your mouth, and dripping on the towel below. His sac tightens, ready to combust, so you relieve his cock with a lewd smack of your lips and brace yourself on your elbows to take Bucky over the edge with you.

Your legs tremble, your muscles strain as the sounds of skin slapping skin, guttural groans, mewls and cusses fill your ears. The tightness in your abdomen comes to a peak and bursts as you come around Bucky’s cock with a helpless moan. He follows quickly as your tight walls convulse, and milk him empty. A few more lazy strokes before he pulls out with a satisfied huff and a gentle slap on your ass cheek.

You feel his cum leak out, tickling your folds as it drips onto the towel, and you shiver as he pushes it back into your pussy with his fingers.

“Will you look at that, Cap, I could get used to that view. Fuckin’ beautiful”

You feel a blush creep up your neck and spread over your face and ears as you collapse onto the mattress.

“Are you tired, honey? We can stop”, Steve mutters against your ear as he gently pulls you into a sitting position, but you shake your head with closed eyes.

“I want you to fuck me, too”, you answer, and your speech is slurred from post-orgasm-bliss.

Steve snickers as he pulls you into his lap. “All right, but don’t expect me to last long”

You massage his thick thighs as you try to get comfortable straddling him. Cum keeps dripping out of your pussy, but you’re scared to look though Steve doesn’t seem to mind.

“Come on now, honey, or do you want to keep me waiting?” You shake your head with a weak smile and whimper as you sink down on his cock. Bucky might be girthier, but Steve is longer. Your head lolls back and you hold onto his shoulders for leverage.

“There you go”, Steve praises though his voice is now breathy and hoarse. “so good for me, honey”

You bite your lip as you ride him leisurely, and when his hips jerk upwards, you cry out as he fucks deeper into you.

“Careful, Stevie, she’s sensitive tonight”, Bucky teases in a sing-song voice as he comes up behind you, resting his chin in the crook of your neck and shoulder when he starts caressing and fondling your tender tits.

“Shut up, Buck”, Steve mutters as he tries to focus on the feeling of your pussy clenching around his throbbing cock. You know he’s close, you can tell by the way his muscles flex and his brows knit, concentrating not to come too quick.

You roll your hips and arch your back into Bucky’s touch. He bites your neck and pinches your nipples again, and you mewl helplessly.

“Fuck”, Steve breathes as you continue to fuck him in your own pace. His fingers slip between your folds and the sight of his cock disappearing inside you doesn’t make it easier for him to stop himself from busting. He rubs your swollen clit eagerly, and the sensation shoots through your body like a lightning strike.

“She’s close now, Stevie”, Bucky chuckles lowly and the sound makes your skin crawl pleasantly. You gasp when pushes you down on Steve’s length without warning.

“Make her come, Cap, she can take it. Right, doll?”

You moan and nod eagerly as Steve picks up his pace suddenly. He ruts into you with vigor while Bucky grips your bouncy tits once more. Your head falls back and rests against his metal shoulder as your orgasm catches you hard and unprepared.

You clasp your hand over your mouth to muffle your scream while Steve follows suit, and you feel him release his hot, thick spurts of cum inside your quivering pussy. His cock keeps twitching as you squirm in his lap while you three catch your breath.

“So good for me, honey”

Steve cups your face in his hands and gives you a deep and sloppy kiss, all teeth and tongue before unhanding you, so Bucky can lift you off him. More cum leaks and runs down your thighs before Bucky sweeps you off your feet and carries you into the bathroom while Steve continues to recover.

Your legs are trembling, you’re utterly exhausted, cured of painful cramps as it seems, and satisfied. Bucky chuckles as he sees the dopey smile on your face.

“You look so beautiful, doll, all fucked thoroughly by your men like that”

[uninspired-exwriter]

[whiskeyxcola]

** COMING SOON **

Caroline Harper was a political force to be reckoned with; no one beat out her candidate. She worked her ass off and finally obtained the ultimate campaign manager position: the presidential election. 

Chris Evans needed a new campaign manager, and fast. He was far too much for his current manager to handle, but that woman assured him that she knew someone who would shape his campaign into a winning team. 

Both Chris and Caroline feel the electricity spark between them the moment they lay eyes on each other. Professionalism and attraction collide and threaten to ruin Chris’s campaign. Caroline refuses to let that happen -- if she can keep her hands off her candidate long enough. 

Sadie Coleman was ready for a new beginning when she took a summer job as a nanny. She fell in love with the town, the little girl she cared for, and, all too soon, her employer. 

Chris Pratt was completely over his ex-wife and ready to move on with his life -- or at least he thought he was ready to move on. The schoolteacher he hires to care for his daughter quickly confuses his head and captures his heart.

Despite the hesitation, Sadie and Chris find a way to navigate a summer together, caring for Layla and each other -- until his ex-wife returns with intentions of reconciliation. 

All while navigating their professional and personal lives, best friends Sadie and Caroline agree to keep their communication limited to letters and emergency phone calls. Follow them through a summer of ups and downs, of new adventures, and most of all, of love and friendship.  

@captain-s-rogers and @whiskeyxcola‘s new collaboration, Yours Truly, will begin posting on Tuesday, May 1! Taglist is open; just reply to this post, or send an ask to Ashley or Nicole to be added! 

[not-withoutyou]

Richard Siken A Primer For The Small Weird Loves // SEBASTIAN STAN as BUCKY BARNES in Captain America: The First Avenger (2011)

[eden031]

In another time pt. 1

Bucky x reader

Content: loss, grief, World War 2, 1940‘s Bucky, love, engagement, losing a lover

This is not beta read, but I for once actually proof read something, please bear with me

2.3 k Words

1940‘s

You looked at your fiance with wide eyes and your mouth slightly opened. Anger was rising in your chest and you wanted to punch him so hard that he would not be able to get up anymore. You had known that it would happen sooner than later, but it still hurt. You knew it was not his fault, you knew that Bucky was only doing the right thing and it was his duty to his country, to your country. He was a good man and you knew that war might not be for good men, but he would make a difference.

„James…“ his smile faded, you never called him James unless it was serious. The only time you had called him James before had been the day you had told him that your father disapproved of your engagement. „I thought that there would still be enough time for us to get married.“ your voice was weak. It was true, you had wanted to get married before he would be deployed, he had promised it and now here he was, telling you that he would be leaving New York by the end of the week.

„We could still get married…“ he smiled one of his charming crooked smiles that had made you fall for him. His eyes were sparkling and he looked so happy that he had come up with this idea. „Steve could be my best man and your sister could be your maid of honor. Or we could just go and get it officiated now, there is no one stopping us.“ he laughed softly.

You felt a heavy weight settling on your shoulders. It was pressing down on you and you wanted nothing more than to tell him to stay home, however you also knew that you would not let him be declared a deserter.

„No, let‘s wait until this war is over. Then we can have a proper wedding. With Rebecca as the flower girl, our parents there, Steve can still be your best man and my sister can still be the maid of honor, but maybe then we can have it in peace as well.“ You whispered. Bucky wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you closer to him.

„Where we first met?“ he asked, a grin spreading on his face, knowing fully well that where you both first met no wedding could be held. He had met you when he had tried to get Steve, a common friend of yours, out of trouble. It had all happened in an alleyway where you had been trying to keep the attacker off of Steve, but had not succeeded.

„No, in the nice chapel down on seventh.“ You nuzzled your face into his uniform and swayed with him. You had a feeling that this would not come true, you glanced over to the dress hanging from your shelf. It was supposed to be your wedding dress, your mother had handmade it for you and you had wanted to wear it, but things had now taken a different turn.

„Oh, that is a good idea. I really like the ceiling there, it looks very nice.“

You laughed at his comment and took a deep breath of his scent, trying to burn it into your mind, trying to force it to stay there until you would be able to see him again. Luckily you would still be able to tell him goodbye when he would leave at the end of the week, but it still hurt, knowing that you might never see him again after that.

The wind was blowing the salty air in your direction, tears were running down your cheeks as you let go of Bucky. Carefully you grabbed his face and pressed your forehead against his. A single tear was sliding down his cheek and it made your heart ache.

„Remember, I will follow you to the ends of this world and I will travel even further just to keep you safe.“ you whispered with teary eyes.

Bucky laughed, his laugh was a lot more watery than it was probably supposed to be.

„I think I should be the one saying this…“ he smiled softly.

„No, it is alright. You will not have to protect me, but rather help protect this world. Please come back to me in one piece.“ you laughed and kissed him.

„I promise.“ he answered breathlessly.

Your heart ached as you watched how he was walking away and onto the ship that was waiting for the soldiers. One last time he turned around and waved you goodbye.

You waved as well, the light blue dress you were wearing billowed in the wind that came from the sea.

You whispered to yourself, so silently that you were not sure if you actually said it or just thought:“ Don‘t go where I can‘t follow, James Buchanan Barnes.“

You sat in the back of one of the jeeps as you were making your way to the hilltop. Your hands were covered in blood and freezing cold. A soldier was laying at your feet, shaking from his injuries and the cold. You had already given him your jacket and tried to keep him as warm as possible while you were making your way up the hill. The team of nurses you had been working with had found the men among some other injured soldiers at a battlefield that seemed to be littered with bodies. You had tried to save these men and were now transporting most of them back up to the nearest camp of the allies.

„Is someone waiting for you at home?“ the soldier asked, his face was pale and his hand was cramped up around the bullet wound that went straight through his shoulder.

„No…he is out here somewhere…“ you answered him with a kind smile. „Well, my parents are home and they are waiting for me.“

He smiled and pulled out a picture of a girl from his pocket. „Please I want to sit up.“ he croaked out. You bent down and hauled him up so that he was sitting by your feet. „Thank you.“ he whispered. „See she is waiting for me at home. Her name is Mary and our son should be born in a few months.“ He smiled softly and pressed the picture to his chest, a faint smile on his pale lips. „We got married a few months before I had to leave…“ he spoke softly and it almost broke her heart. The wound to his shoulder was not fatal, but she was not sure which other injuries he had suffered from that were internal.

„Will I see her again?“ he asked, tears streaming down his face as he grabbed your hand tightly. „Will I see my Mary and my son again?“ he was crying and you had to hold back not to cry as well.

„Yes, Soldier. You will see them again. Just hang in there. We will be at the camp in a few moments, then everything will turn out fine.“

You looked up and could see the camp getting closer. The jeep was going faster now since it was not going uphill anymore. Shouting was coming from the camp and it seemed as if there was already some sort of issue at hand that they tried to deal with.

„Everything will be alright, Soldier.“ you got up from your seat and held on as tight as possible to the sides of the jeep and made your way over to a man that had sustained an injury to his eye and was probably going to lose said eye. He was staring into the void and you got ready to get him off the jeep.

The jeep stopped and a group of soldiers opened the back of it. Their faces looked sad as if they had just been told of a great loss, but you just pulled the man over your shoulder and heaved him off the jeep.

„Give him some clean bandages to put on his eye and tell your stationed nurses to not let him scratch it. If he does not touch it there might still be a chance to save the eye. Bathe the bullet wound in alcohol, whatever you have.“ you handed the man over to the soldier that looked a little bit flabbergasted to be ordered around by a nurse, but he just obliged. The other nurses had been spread on the other jeeps and there were about three wounded soldiers per jeep. However, the biggest issue was that some of the nurses belonging to your group had been killed in an ambush two weeks ago and there had not been sent reinforcements, which meant that there were less nurses and more injured soldiers.

„Can you walk?“ you asked the man you had just been speaking to. He just nodded and started to slide off the jeep, slowly wobbling after the soldier that was carrying the other man to one of the tents.

The last man that was in the jeep was unconscious and was running colder and colder by the minute. With shaking hands you pulled him closer to you and hauled him over your back and your shoulders. Suddenly you realized something, you had gotten stronger over the last months. Carrying equipment and injured men daily had made you stronger and you knew that it would come in handy sooner or later.

As you carried the man towards the tent you caught a part of the conversation two men had. Only two words and your heart almost jumped out of your throat. ‚Sergeant Barnes‘, Bucky was maybe here.

After you had put the man on one of the cots and the nurses that had been stationed there told you to rest a little since to put it in her words:‘ looked a little bit pale, hungry and shaken.‘ Slowly you made your way out of the tent and started to look for a place to wash your hands. You found a bucket filled with some dirty and grimy looking water, sighing you started to wash your hands, scrubbing hard and trying to get away the dried blood.

„(Y/N)?“ The voice was confused and happy at the same time. You recognized it right away and spun around with a bright smile on your face. It was the first time in what felt like months that you were truly glad to see someone. Steve stood there, the blue and white and red suit looked worn and dirty and so did he. There was something sad about his expression, that you could not quite place. His usually bright eyes looked glossy and sunken into his skull.

„Steve!“ You cried out and laughed. You had heard of the Howling commandos and had also heard that Steve and Bucky were part of it. Meaning that wherever Steve was Bucky was nearby.

„Steve! I am so glad to see you and I do not want to seem impolite, but where is Bucky?“ excitement filled your voice. You had been longing to see him for ages and you knew that he would be glad to see you as well.

Steve‘s expression seemed rather neutral, but sad. He turned his head away from you and looked at the ground.

„Steve?“ you asked. A feeling settling in your stomach that this could not mean something good, not even remotely so. Your heart clenched and you reached out to grab his shoulder.

„Steve?“ you repeat yourself, knowing fully well that the answer is going to be heart shattering.

„I am sorry…(Y/N)…Bucky is…he is gone.“ he whispered.

Knowing it was different from hearing it from another person. A sob left your gut and you started crying. Big, ugly tears were running down your cheeks as you looked at Steve. Sob after sob was wrecking your body, it was a miracle that you did not scream. It was a miracle that you did not try to charge at Steve. It was a miracle that you did not let yourself fall to the ground and never get up again. You just swallowed hard and let the sobs wreck through your body as Steve pulled you into a tight hug.

He knew what you were feeling. He had loved Bucky, maybe not the same way you had loved him, but he had loved Bucky and he had lost a good friend. Steve tried to soothe you and only succeeded partially. After he let you go you swore to everything that was dear to you that you would make H.Y.D.R.A pay for what they did. You did not care how long it took or what measures were required, the only thing that you wanted at that moment was vengeance.

The war was over and you had finally been able to return home. However, home was not the same anymore without Bucky. Your apartment felt empty, the dress was still hanging on your shelf where you had left it and it would continue to hang there for the years to come, never touched, only dusted.

Your friends were dead and the only person you had was the widow of the man you had promised to bring home. Mary was a good woman and needed help after losing her husband to the war. The two of you worked together and helped each other to come to terms with the loss. Mary made you the Godmother of her son who she had named Christopher. When you were not with Mary you were out and about. Trying to help as many people as possible, that‘s how you ended up working for Howard Stark and the SSR. However your time away from work and from Mary you spent the same.

Every night you would go to his grafe, an empty grave, cleaning it and lighting the candles. They had never found his body, never brought him home. Every night, shortly before you would leave you would repeat the same thing over and over again.

„Maybe in another time we will meet again, maybe in another life.“

[cptrs]

[marveledits]