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deliciousangelfestival · 28 days ago

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The Imperfect Couple - 15

Character: politician!Bucky x ex-wife!reader

Summary: A separated couple must pretend to be happily married while the husband runs for Vice President, dealing with old issues and political pressures during his election campaign.

Warning: The couple's arguments could be triggering.

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Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

“Seems like you're declaring war on me,” Bucky said, his voice steady but his eyes narrowing slightly.

“Does it sound like that? Forgive me.” Steve set the golf club down, a smirk playing on his lips. “What I meant is, we have to be aware of everything. We're this close to winning.”

“I agree.” Bucky replied, his expression calm, though his mind churned with unspoken thoughts.

“This is why I trust you.” Steve clapped him on the shoulder. “Remember, we're playing in the highest league now.”

Steve paused before adding casually, “By the way, my son wants to visit Nate. Is that okay with you?”

“I'll let my wife and Nate know,” Bucky responded, his voice neutral, though he felt a flicker of unease.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

When Bucky got home, he saw you sitting cross-legged on the floor with Nate, working on a puzzle together. You both seemed relaxed, unaware of the weight he carried from the conversation with Steve. He walked over, his movements deliberate, and knelt beside Nate.

“Nate, buddy, can you go to your room for a bit? I need to talk to your aunt,” Bucky said gently, placing a hand on Nate’s shoulder.

Nate, always obedient, nodded. “Okay, Uncle Bucky,” he said before scooping up a few puzzle pieces and heading inside.

Once it was just the two of you, you glanced at Bucky and noticed his exhausted expression. He looked like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

“What? Did something worse just hit you?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

Bucky took a breath, his jaw tightening. “Did you just involve Ian?” His tone was calm, but his eyes betrayed his frustration.

You widened your eyes, momentarily caught off guard by the question. That single look was enough for him to sigh deeply, running a hand through his hair. “I…” His hands clenched into fists momentarily. He wanted to be angry, knowing full well this would put you on Steve’s radar.

“Just… tell Ian to slow down,” Bucky muttered, clearly uneasy.

“I can’t,” you said softly but firmly. “The way Ian works is far more efficient than anything I could do.”

Bucky rubbed his temples, his frustration mounting. “Then I hope God protects him.”

“Bucky…” you stepped closer, your voice serious. “Be honest with me. Is he in danger?”

Bucky looked down, his hands braced on the counter, his shoulders tense. “Steve just gave me a warning. It won’t matter to him if there’s blood on his hands.”

Your heart dropped. ‘Fuck,’ you thought as panic began to bubble inside. You immediately grabbed your phone and dialed Ian, but there was no answer. Frustration and fear mingled in your chest as you quickly texted him instead: Be careful. Eyes and ears everywhere.

You glanced at Bucky, your stomach twisting. “By the way, the Rogers twins want to come here to play with Nate,” Bucky added as if it were a casual comment, though his voice carried an edge.

“You allowed that?” you asked, the disbelief evident in your tone.

The mention of the twins unsettled you. Your mind flashed back to watching The Shining in secret with Tim, and how the twins in that movie had always given you the creeps. That eerie feeling wasn’t just from the film anymore—it was rooted in real life. You had learned the truth: William and Charles, Steve's sons, had a reputation for bullying other students. The thought of them around Nate made your skin crawl.

Would they be a good influence on Nate? You highly doubted it.

Bucky gave a tired shrug. “I can’t say no to the future president, right?”

You pressed your lips into a thin line, knowing there was little you could do to stop it. But one thing was clear—you would be keeping a very close eye on them when they came to visit.

🌸🌸🌸🌸

The twins arrived at the house, their faces lit up with matching grins, excitement practically radiating off them. Nate, catching sight of them, bolted to the door, his small body bouncing with joy.

"William! Charles!" Nate called out, bouncing on his toes as he welcomed them in. His innocent joy was palpable—he was simply happy to have people he knew coming to play with him.

"Hey, buddy," William said, ruffling Nate’s hair as they walked inside.

After a brief exchange, they settled in front of the game console, and soon, the twins had chosen a violent shooter game. The screen flickered with gunfire and explosions, the sound effects jarring in the otherwise quiet room. Nate, seated between them, initially watched in awe but quickly became uncomfortable.

His tiny hands shot up to cover his eyes, and he flinched with every loud noise, his body tense as he pressed himself into the couch. He covered his ears, trying to block out the unsettling sounds, but he didn’t say a word, not wanting to ruin the moment.

You watched from a distance, trying not to be the nosy adult. You wanted to give them space, but seeing Nate’s frightened reaction twisted something in your gut. Likewise, you couldn’t stand by anymore. Walking over to the boys, you kept your tone polite, but firm.

“Guys,” you said, your voice cutting through the sounds of the game, “is there another game that’s not as scary? Look, Nate’s getting scared.”

William glanced down at Nate, who was huddled close to him. “Oh, why didn’t you say something, buddy?” he said, patting Nate’s shoulder as if that would fix everything.

Charles sighed and turned off the violent game, switching to something more child-friendly. "Here, we’ve got a game for you, Nate." He scrolled through the options and selected a bright, colorful one with cartoon rabbits running a restaurant.

The second the screen changed, Nate’s face lit up. “Wow!” he exclaimed, his fear dissolving as he leaned forward, eager to play. The teenage boys, now seemingly patient, guided him through the simple controls, explaining how to serve food to the cartoon animals. You felt a wave of relief. Maybe—just maybe—the twins weren’t as bad as you had feared.

Later, the boys decided to go swimming. You sat on a poolside chair, keeping a close eye on Nate. He was wearing a floatie around his small frame, happily splashing in the shallow end while William and Charles horsed around further away.

Suddenly, your phone buzzed. It was Ian. "H...ell...o"

You stood up, checking the signal, which was terrible. Frowning, you moved toward the balcony. The pool was indoors, so you stepped outside, hoping for better reception.

“I just got your text,” Ian said when the call finally connected. His voice was rough, but you could hear his smirk through the line. “You know this isn’t going to stop me.”

“I’m serious, Ian,” you replied, leaning against the balcony rail. “Bucky told me directly. You’re in danger.”

A pause, and then Ian’s voice, low and almost teasing, came through. “Hmm… Guess where I am right now?”

You sighed, trying to play along. “London? Since you went home, right?”

“Nope. Paris. And I’ve found something—something lethal enough to kill Steve,” Ian said, his tone dark with implication.

Paris? You froze. Was this related to Hazel? Your heart pounded with a new surge of anxiety. “Ian, don’t—”

But before you could finish, you heard it. A splash—loud, frantic. You turned around, the blood draining from your face. In the water, you saw a small hand desperately reaching out, the floatie floating uselessly nearby. It was Nate.

Panic gripped you like a vice. “Nate!” you screamed, dropping your phone as you sprinted back inside.

Without hesitation, you dove into the pool, your body hitting the cold water like a shock to your system. Your hands reached for him, pulling Nate’s tiny, trembling body to the surface. His arms latched around your neck in a vice grip, coughing and sputtering as you lifted him from the water.

He gasped, burying his face against your shoulder, his small body shaking as he clung to you. “He…he can’t swim!” you snapped at the twins, your voice filled with raw anger.

William and Charles stood there on the edge of the pool, unfazed. “That’s why we were teaching him,” they answered in unison, their tone almost dismissive.

Nate let out a pained cough, his voice weak. “My nose hurts…” he whimpered, rubbing his face against your neck.

Your heart ached at the sight of him, vulnerable and hurt. Anger surged through you like a tidal wave, and you glared at the twins. You remembered that they both just watched while Nate was drowning. Without raising your voice, you pointed to the door, your finger shaking with fury. “Get out. Now.”

The command echoed in the room, sharp and unforgiving. William and Charles flinched, startled by the intensity in your voice. Without a word, they quickly grabbed their things, shooting one last glance at each other before rushing out the door.

You stayed in the pool, holding Nate close, your teeth gritted in anger and your heart still pounding. You knew then—those boys were never going to be allowed near Nate again. Not after this.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

The twins walked into the Roger household, their shoulders slumped, clearly sensing the storm waiting for them. Behind them, Peggy followed with a stern but composed expression. As they stepped further into the room, the tension was palpable—Steve stood there, arms crossed, his face hard as stone. He had heard everything from you, and his sons could feel his fury even before he said a word.

William and Charles instinctively moved closer to Peggy, seeking the safety of her presence as if she could shield them from the inevitable.

Peggy, sensing the mounting tension, stepped forward slightly, her voice calm but firm. “Steve, calm down. I will talk to them.”

Steve let out a frustrated sigh, his clenched jaw releasing only slightly. “I’m not going to yell,” he said through gritted teeth. “But I need to say something.”

He fixed his cold gaze on his sons. “Both of you will be homeschooled from now on.”

The twins’ faces fell in disbelief. “Dad, no!” William blurted, and Charles’ mouth hung open, too stunned to speak.

“I know,” Steve said, his voice quieter now, but there was no softness in it. “I know the main reason for your behavior is because your mother and I have been too busy for you. We never spent time together as a family.” His arms unfolded, and to their surprise, he pulled them into a hug. “So, homeschooling is the best option, isn’t it?” His tone sounded almost tender, but underneath it lay a cold warning.

William and Charles glanced at each other, then back at Peggy, silently pleading for her to intervene. But she didn’t. She stood still, her lips pressed tightly together, offering no rescue.

“Good children don’t question their parents,” Steve said, his voice dropping low. “You just say, ‘Yes, father.’”

The twins swallowed hard, a sinking feeling settling in their chests. “Yes, father,” they muttered in unison, their voices barely above a whisper. It felt as though their every move would now be monitored.

Steve’s lips curled into a smile, but it wasn’t warm—it was the smile of a man in control. “Good. Now, go back to your rooms.”

The boys moved quietly, retreating upstairs, the weight of Steve’s words heavy on their shoulders.

Once they were out of sight, Steve’s smile faded. He turned toward Peggy, his tone biting. “This is why I never wanted to send them to boarding school in the first place. They needed parental guidance, not strict school rules.”

Peggy’s eyes narrowed, a tired look crossing her face. “Don’t start again, Steve. That decision was made by my father.”

Steve’s expression darkened at the mention of her father. His voice dripped with bitterness. “Oh yeah, him. I almost forgot. I’m glad he’s dead.”

Peggy’s face tensed, a flare of anger sparking in her eyes. “When will you stop badmouthing my father?”

Steve’s cold stare met hers. “Never.”

Steve had lived a life bound by duty, his role in the military shaping every part of him. He was a good soldier—respected, disciplined, and obedient. But despite his loyalty, promotions came slowly. His lack of a powerful family background meant he was always overlooked by those with better connections. Essentially, Steve was an orphan—without anyone to vouch for him, he was left behind.

He knew how the system worked. If you didn’t have the right name, the right family, there was always a price to pay. And Steve had paid it, doing the dirty work of his superiors without question, sacrificing his principles just to keep his place. The worst part of it all was that his commanding officer, General Carter, was his father-in-law.

Every step of his career, Steve had been a puppet for the man who held both his professional and personal life in his hands. The weight of it bore down on him every day.

“Good soldiers don’t ask why,” General Carter always said this to him. “They just say, ‘Yes, sir.’”

"Yes, sir." Steve answer it like he's a robot.

At some point, Steve had everything he’d ever thought he wanted—marriage, a steady career, money, and status. On paper, he should have been happy. But he wasn’t. His life felt dull, empty, like the spark had been drained from it.

The day he realized the truth hit him like a punch in the gut. He wasn’t his own man—he was nothing more than a tool for his father-in-law, a puppet dancing to someone else’s tune.

That was the moment he had enough. The frustration, the years of silently obeying, simmered into anger. He wanted to be the one in control. He was tired of taking orders—he wanted to be the one giving them.

Steve’s life had been dull for years, a constant routine of military duties, politics, and the weight of expectations. Until the day he met Hazel. She was much younger than him—vibrant, full of life—and he was supposed to give her advice, to help steer her back home. Julius and Caroline had asked him to help their daughter stop running away. But when Steve sat with Hazel and listened to her story, something shifted. Her reasons for running, the pressures she felt—her life mirrored his own struggles. For the first time in years, he felt empathy.

He told her, quietly, “If you ever need someone to talk to, you can find me.”

And from there, things changed. They grew closer, and eventually, more intimate. He knew it was wrong—cheating on his family, betraying his friends—but for the first time, Steve felt alive again. The numbness of his life vanished in her presence, replaced by something that burned, something real. And then came Nate, the baby born out of that connection, out of a love he hadn’t felt in years.

Steve’s thoughts snapped back to the present. His jaw clenched tightly as he faced Peggy. “Did you tell them to hurt Nate?”

Peggy stood her ground, her face a mix of frustration and cold calculation. “No,” she said flatly. “But they’re smart enough to figure out why their father cares so much about that kid, and why he’s always…” She hesitated, her lips curling into a thin smile. “Spending time with his little girlfriend. Maybe they’re just releasing their anger.”

Steve’s fists tightened until his knuckles turned white. “When I get into the White House, you won’t be coming with me.”

Peggy’s eyes narrowed, but she didn’t flinch. “And what then?” she said with a mocking tilt to her voice. “You think you’re going to put that girl in my place? Have you forgotten who you are? You were a beggar, crawling to my father for help.”

Steve’s eyes darkened, a dangerous calm settling over him. “And this beggar has crawled his way to victory,” he said slowly, his voice low but filled with menace. “You can act high and mighty because of me. Don’t forget that I can take it all away from you.” He stepped closer, his words laced with venom. “Remember how your family got their business permits? How they were saved from corruption charges and tax evasion? That was because of me.”

Peggy let out a scoff, her eyes filled with disdain. “You think you’re a king now?” She crossed her arms, shaking her head. “I actually pity her, you know. Because one day, she’ll feel exactly what I felt. You’ll never be satisfied, Steve. You’ll never have enough.”

She turned to leave, her hand on the door. Before stepping out, Peggy glanced back at him, her eyes filled with cold certainty. “Never.”

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

You sat beside Nate, your heart heavy as you watched his small chest rise and fall, his face flushed with fever. The doctor had just left, handing you a bottle of medicine. "Make sure he drinks this, and let him rest completely," he’d said before exchanging a few quiet words with Bucky and leaving the apartment.

Nate’s red, feverish face made your heart ache. He had been through so much in just a few hours. You gently wiped a damp cloth over his forehead as Bucky sat beside you, silent and tense.

"Never, ever let Nate be alone with them again," you said, your voice firm.

Bucky nodded, his expression serious. "I agree. And I’m sorry. I never thought they’d pull something like that."

“Don’t underestimate underage kids,” you warned, your voice sharp. “There are so many cases where perpetrators can’t be jailed because they’re underage.”

Bucky’s jaw tightened. "Noted. I won’t forget that."

A brief silence passed, then you asked, “Have you called Hazel?”

“I tried, but I couldn’t reach her. I called her assistant, though.”

You nodded, your mind still spinning. The memory of Nate sinking beneath the water haunted you, but there was something else gnawing at you—you hadn’t finished your conversation with Ian.

Excusing yourself, you left the room and grabbed your phone, your stomach dropping when you noticed the cracked screen from when you’d dropped it before diving into the pool.

You dialed Ian’s number, your fingers trembling as you pressed it to your ear. The first ring echoed, unanswered. Your heart pounded faster. The second ring—nothing. A cold sense of unease crept into your chest. Why wasn’t he answering?

On the third try, the ringing stopped abruptly, and you exhaled in relief. “Hello? Ian?” you asked quickly, your voice tight with worry.

There was a pause on the other end, then a voice you didn’t expect—familiar, but not Ian’s.

“Y/N?”

You froze, confusion flooding your mind. “Hazel? Why are you answering Ian’s phone?” Panic started to rise inside you, the pieces beginning to fall into place. Ian had gone to Paris. He had found something—something connected to Hazel and Steve.

“He… he can’t answer it,” Hazel whispered, her voice breaking.

Your breath caught in your throat, a chill racing down your spine. “Why?” The word came out in a shaky breath.

There was a long silence before Hazel finally spoke, her words hitting you like a sledgehammer.

“Because he’s dead.”

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