#peggy k
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the severance writers are sick in the head for this:
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Who wants to put a baby in me?
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Smash Academy
A Nintendo-themed version of Tiny Toon Adventures, basically.
Our story begins with Elanore, the would-be protagonist of a new IP who's instead destined for the cutting room floor, or maybe to be a background character in a WarioWare cutscene if she's lucky. As you might expect she's not exactly content with this, and decides to take matters into her own hands. Inspiration strikes when she catches a glimpse of a Tiny Toon Looniversity episode, and she gets to work.
First she takes note of how similar she is to Mario (probably part of what got her game canned, honestly) and builds herself a Luigi, a little robot named Barney. Then she constructs a device that can create game worlds and throws a Tiny Toon Adventures DVD box set and a copy of Smash Ultimate into it, creating a version of Smashville that's an actual entire world with the titular Smash Academy at its heart, where she, Barney, and the other Nintendo Knockoff Kids that were created can learn the finer points of being Video Game Characters.
Aaaand probably cause some trouble along the way.
Here's the ones I've figured out so far.
Elanore
Based on Mario, of course
If you've seen my SMG4 stuff you probably recognize her. She's pretty much the same as she is there, just with no relation to Haltmann Works Co. or to Mario directly.
A brilliant mechanic with a massive mad scientist streak who is the hero of the Soda Kingdom
Very impulsive and tends not to think things through
Also she's French for some reason.
Barney
Technically based on Luigi
Is moreso just a Legally Distinct version of Clank from Ratchet & Clank
Also originally from my SMG4 stuff.
Elanore's robot brother
Makes up about 80% of Elanore's impulse control
Rumble Kong
Based on Donkey Kong
Specifically, has the personality of Movie DK
Dresses like a greaser, complete with pompadour
Not related to DK, but he does look up to him a lot
Dyson
Literally just a smaller, orange version of Kirby
I know Kirby's not named after the vacuum I couldn't help myself
Bailey
Based on Samus
As the name suggests, she has the Justin Bailey color scheme.
Armor is grey and blue with a red arm cannon
Gives everybody nicknames and barely ever uses their real names
Does Not Shut Up Ever
Link
Go on. Guess who he's based on
The Link, Zelda and Ganon of Smash Academy qualify as valid incarnations, but the circumstances of it made things a little screwy
Particularly, this version of Link is terrified of almost everything. He still has the spirit of the Hero and will step up to the task when he has to no questions asked, so he does still qualify to bear the Triforce of Courage, but he is in fact a total scaredy cat
(this is partly due to there not really being a Luigi counterpart since Barney fits the role but not the personality, so the character traits went to the other Man in Green)
Doesn't talk much
Dresses how you'd figure Link would but all his gear looks a bit oversized and worn out to emphasize how seemingly ill-suited he is to the role
Zelda
Seems kind of vain and flighty at first but much like Link is Very Much Still Zelda underneath that
Redhead
Dresses like she came out of a "Modern AU"
Hattrem
Based on either Jigglypuff or Mewtwo. She insists it's the latter
Speaks via telepathy
Sassy
Dislikes loud noises and needless conflict. Violently.
Lester Koopa
Based on Bowser
Elanore's arch-enemy
A distant relative of Bowser and disproportionately proud of it
When things first start out he rallies a bunch of the other villains and steals Smash Academy a la Paper Mario so he can take control of Smashville right out from under Elanore
Honestly just a big bully
Ganon
Yes we're using the pig
Yes the pig is a teenager now
Kid K. Boom
Based on K. Rool
Pirate
Crazy
About the size of a Klaptrap with a Napoleon Complex to match
Take pre-Hunting Trilogy Daffy Duck, make him evil, sprinkle in a bit of Yosemite Sam, then make the result think it's talk-like-a-pirate-day 24/7. That's K. Boom.
The K stands for Kid K. Boom
Randal
A smaller, green version of Ridley
Not really as conniving as his counterpart
...To be honest he's not so much evil as he is just constantly hungry
He and Bailey do still go out of their way to fight each other though
Momo
Based on King Dedede
Not a villain at all but got dragged into Lester's whole deal anyway
He is very small and surrounded by nutjobs so you can imagine the stress he's under
not a king or a prince or a ruler or leader of any kind, just a penguin with a neat hat and jacket who works hard to be able to keep up with his buddy Dyson
Gets along surprisingly well with Randal
Peggy Piranha
If Petey Piranha was a Muncher
The spike pit with extra steps version of a Muncher
Just as terrifying (and silly looking) as it sounds
Vise
Based on Sephiroth
The fact that the third party characters might also get counterparts completely slipped Elanore's mind
He is fully aware of the power he wields as a pretty anime bad boy in a world full of teenage girls
Goes along with Lester's plan because it amuses him, will probably try to destroy the world at some point
Princess Plum
Ruler of the Soda Kingdom
...That's it that's all I got right now
Bullet the Roadrunner
The Fastest Bird Alive
Based on Sonic
Specifically Classic Sonic since they're all meant to be younger versions of their counterparts, so he has the Mania/Origins Cutscene artstyle and can't talk, boost or homing attack
His spindash is a drill instead of a ball Because Bird
Shows up at the last second to save the rest of the team like Sonic did in Subspace Emissary because of course he would
Probably has a Coyote as his Tails Knockoff
#nintendo#tiny toons#smash bros#smash academy#smash bros au#elanore#barney#rumble kong#dyson#bailey#justin bailey#link loz#zelda loz#hattrem#lester koopa#ganon#kid k boom#randal#momo#peggy piranha#vise#princess plum#bullet the roadrunner#the whole oversized equipment thing means this link has a bigger shield than most links which i think fits him pretty well#between this and some of my recent posts and reblogs you can probably tell that i'm on a bit of a looney tunes kick
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i already wrote kissing frequently and if i go through with this thing then it'll in all respects be the same thing but boy can the KF archive use some manner of horny werewolf/creature or omegaverse au with forrest as the only regular guy who will join the rest of them very soon whether he knows it or (k)not
#and he does (k)not#it's so much like just. kissing frequently but wet. sorry. (im knot)#everyone town is weird lately hmmm well none of my business anyway time for wo- peggy? ...peggy where
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Sharon-A-Day, Day 503 (5/18/23)
Avengers 325. On sale 8/21/90. "Party Games"
Writer: Mark Gruenwald
Penciller: Richard Levins
Inker: Fred Fredericks
Letterer: Brad K. Joyce
Colorist: Ed Lazellari
Editor: Howard A. Mackie
Peggy hasn't been haunted by her sister after all.
#sharon carter#agent 13#mark gruenwald#richard levins#fred fredericks#brad k joyce#ed lazellari#howard a mackie#avengers#peggy carter
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I’m truly blessed to confirm that since this post, I have not witnessed such a sin
If one of y’all crazy motherfuckers even dares to write a Reed Richards smut fic where he extends his own dick with his superpowers, I will put my body into a paper shredder and become one with John Krasinski I stg
#jim halpert#reed richards x reader#reed richards smut#captain carter#peggy carter#dsmom#doctor strange#multiverse of madness#marvel#reed richards#john krasinski#buckmepapi#k;
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5 DJ coreane che stanno svoltando la musica House
https://www.dlso.it/site/2023/05/02/dj-coreane-house/
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Do you have a list of good sex ed books to read?
BOY DO I
please bear in mind that some of these books are a little old (10+ years) by research standards now, and that even the newer ones are all flawed in some way. the thing about research on human beings, and especially research on something as nebulous and huge as sex, is that people are Always going to miss something or fail to account for every possible experience, and that's just something that we have to accept in good faith. I think all of these books have something interesting to say, but that doesn't mean any of them are the only book you'll ever need.
related to that: it's been A While since I've read some of these so sorry if anything in them has aged poorly (I don't THINK SO but like, I was not as discerning a reader when I was 19) but I am still including them as books that have been important to my personal journey as a sex educator.
additionally, a caveat that very few of these books are, like, instructional sex ed books in the sense of like "here's how the penis works, here's where the clit is, etc." those books exist and they're great but they're also not very interesting to me; my studies on sex are much more in the social aspect (shout out to my sociology degree) and the way people learn to think about sex and societal factors that shape those trends. these books reflect that. I would genuinely love to have the time to check out some 101 books to see how they fare, but alas - sex ed is not my day job and I don't have the time to dedicate to that, so it happens slowly when it happens at all. I've been meaning to read Dr. Gunter's Vagina Bible since it came out in 2019, for fucks sake.
and finally an acknowledgement that this is a fairly white list, which has as much to do with biases with academia and publishing as my own unchecked biases especially early in my academic career and the limitations of my university library.
ANYWAY here's some books about sex that have been influential/informative to me in one way or another:
The Trouble With Normal: Sex, Politics, and the Ethics of Queer Life (Michael Warner, 1999)
Virginity Lost: An Intimate Portrait of First Sexual Experiences (Laura M. Carpenter, 2005)
Virgin: The Untouched History (Hanne Blank, 2007)
Sex Goes to School: Girls and Sex Education Before the 1960s (Susan K. Freeman, 2008)
Bonk: The Curious Coupling of Science and Sex (Mary Roach, 2008)
Transgender History: The Roots of Today's Revolution (Revised Edition) (Susan Stryker, 2008)
The Purity Myth: How America's Obsession with Virginity is Hurting Young Women (Jessica Valenti, 2009)
Not Under My Roof: Parents, Teens, and the Culture of Sex (Amy T. Schalet, 2011)
Straight: The Surprisingly Short History of Heterosexuality (Hanne Blank, 2012)
Rewriting the Rules: An Integrative Guide to Love, Sex and Relationships (Meg-John Barker, 2013)
The Sex Myth: The Gap Between Our Fantasies and Realities (Rachel Hills, 2015)
Come as You Are: The Surprising New Science That Will Tranform Your Sex Life (Emily Nagoski, 2015)
Not Gay: Sex Between Straight White Men (Jane Ward, 2015)
Too Hot to Handle: A Global History of Sex Education (Jonathan Zimmerman, 2015)
American Hookup: The New Culture of Sex on Campus (Lisa Wade, 2017)
Buzz: A Stimulating History of the Sex Toy (Hallie Lieberman, 2017)
Histories of the Transgender Child (Jules Gill-Peterson, 2018)
Revolting Prostitutes: The Fight for Sex Workers' Rights (Juno Mac and Molly Smith, 2018)
Ace: What Asexuality Reveals About Desire, Society, and the Meaning of Sex (Angela Chen, 2020)
Pleasure in the News: African American Readership and Sexuality in the Black Press (Kim Gallon, 2020)
A Curious History of Sex (Kate Lister, 2020)
Boys & Sex: Young Men on Hookups, Love, Porn, Consent, and Navigating the New Masculinity (Peggy Orenstein, 2020)
Black Women, Black Love: America's War on Africa American Marriage (Dianne M. Stewart, 2020)
The Tragedy of Heterosexuality (Jane Ward, 2020)
Hurts So Good: The Science and Pleasure of Pain on Purpose (Leigh Cowart, 2021)
Strange Bedfellows: Adventures in the Science, History, and Surprising Secrets of STDs (Ina Park, 2021)
The Right to Sex: Feminist in the Twenty-First Century (Amia Srinivasan, 2021)
Love Your Asian Body: AIDS Activism in Los Angeles (Eric C. Wat, 2021)
Superfreaks: Kink, Pleasure, and the Pursuit of Happiness (Arielle Greenberg, 2023)
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If you weren’t planing on writing it (and as your request are still open I’m going to take advantage of that sorry) can you write your idea of reader being Peggy and dottie daughter and dating Nat but mostly dottie gets overprotective?
Meet The Carters
Pairing: Peggy Carter x Daughter! Reader, Dottie Underwood x Daughter! Reader, Natasha Romanoff x Reader || High School AU.
Summary: When your mother, Peggy, discovers you have a girlfriend, she asks you to bring her to dinner. When your other mother, Dottie, lays eyes on the girl you've been dating, things take a turn.
Angst, Fluff
Warnings: Mentions of Red Room, Overprotective Parent?? Slight Mention of Child Abuse (reader being abandoned and malnourished), Nat is 17, Reader is 16 | K
AC: I finally got around to writing this! At first, I was writing it as a drabble but I got carried away and now it’s a full fic lmao! I hope you enjoy! x
You were unpacking your study books from your backpack when your mother knocked on the door, chewing on an apple slice, she smiled softly at you.
"Who was that you were hugging just now?" She asked in her thick British accent as she leaned against the door frame. Your cheeks felt warm as you turned to face your mother. "Just a friend" you replied.
You've been dating Natasha for a few months now, it was still rather new and not a lot people knew, just a few friends. Natasha is a year older than you and you weren't too sure how your mothers would react to the small age gap or how they would react to you dating in general.
"Oh, come on sweetie, I know a friendly hug when I see one and that wasn't one" you Peggy tease as she took a seat at the end of your bed and watched as you set your homework on your desk ready to tackle after an afternoon snack.
"Were you spying on me?" You asked with a cocked brow. Your mother chuckled, "I'm afraid that noticing things is a huge part of my job that now just comes naturally outside of work. So, come on, who is she?"
You couldn't help the growing smile that took over your face, you took a seat next to your mother. She was always the one you got along with a little better. You loved Dottie but sometimes you felt she was a little harder to connect with than Peggy. "Her name is Natasha" you answered, blushing more than you wanted to show.
"Natasha" Peggy repeated, "How about you invite her to dinner tonight, we'll have pizza and a movie. I want to meet this girl who's making you turn redder than tomato" she added. Playfully, you rolled your eyes but agreed to ask her.
----
When Dottie came home from work, she hugged you tightly as if it would be the last time she would hug you but you didn't think too much of it and asked how her day was.
"It was, well, work. How was your day?" she replied. She never spoke about her job or what she did. In fact, you never knew what she did for a living, you once asked when you were around six years old, and she told you she as like mommy and helps take the bad guys off the streets, but her job was super-secret and only mommy knew about it. You never asked her about it again after that.
You were only a year old when Peggy found you abandoned in a dark alley way. She took you to the hospital and called child services, she stayed by your side the entire time you were in the hospital. You were malnourished and very underweight for a baby of your age. When the time came for you to be released from hospital and into the care of child services, Peggy couldn't bare somebody else taking care of you and that's how Peggy became your mother. You were two years old when Dottie and Peggy got married and now you have two mothers.
"Oh you know, school is, well, school" you replied to tease.
"Very funny" Dottie cocked a brow, "why has mom got the dinner table set?" She asked when she noticed the table was set for four instead of three. You sat down on the sofa and picked up the television remote before working up the nerve to tell her who was coming over. "Uhm, well, my girlfriend is joining us for dinner tonight, it was mom's idea" you replied quickly turning the TV on.
"Girlfriend? Since when?" Dottie frowned. You chewed your bottom lip, "Since four months ago" you kept your eyes on the TV only to be saved by Peggy just before Dottie could ask anymore questions.
"Honey, your home!" She smiled, placing a kiss on her wife's lips.
"Who is this girlfriend that is coming over?" Dottie asked before Peggy dragged her into the kitchen. You couldn't hear much but little whispers here and there. You knew that Peggy was telling Dottie not to overreact and that there would be a time when you would bring somebody home to meet them.
You tried to listen more but a knock at the door made your stomach flutter with nerves as you got up to answer it. Natasha smiled softly in her leather jacket, jeans, and black tee. "I hope I'm not late" she spoke. You shook your head, "early actually, the pizza hasn't arrived yet" you smiled as you invited her in.
"Just a heads up, Peggy is excited to meet you and Dottie, well, I'm not too sure how she feels. She just found out a moment ago that I had a girlfriend" you rambled. Natasha placed a kiss on your cheek, "it'll be okay" she whispered.
Your mothers came out of the kitchen, Peggy smiled instantly while Dottie's eyes widened. You didn't want to say anything, but it disappointed you that she wasn't even ready to give Natasha a chance to show how amazing she was.
"You must be Natasha, it's lovely to meet you" Peggy greeted your girlfriend.
"Y/n didn't mention you were English" Natasha replied, lying of course.
"Oh, yes. England born and raised" your mother smiled once more, "this is my wife, Dottie. Don't mind her, she's had long day at work" she added as Dottie stepped forward to shake Nat's hand. She noticed the look of worry on your face and for your sake gave the red head a soft smile, "it's lovely to meet you" Dottie said.
"Thank you both for having me over tonight, it's a pleasure to meet you both" Natasha replied.
----
You and Natasha sat across from your parents while the four of you chatted and ate pizza, neither one of your mothers were great cooks so you were glad it was take-away night for Natasha's sake.
"You mentioned you moved to Ohio, where were you before that?" Dottie asked. If looks could kill, Natasha would've been dead the moment your mother laid eyes on her. During the entire dinner you noticed that your mother was very focused on Natasha while Peggy was more laid back and enjoyed your girlfriend's company.
"I was actually born in Russia and my family moved to Ohio because of my father's work" Natasha replied, keeping strong eye contact with your mother who didn't seem to relax.
"Well, Y/n didn't mention you were Russian!" Peggy commented with a chuckle as she referenced Natasha's first comment to her earlier in the night. Natasha chuckled, "Russian born and raised, kinda" she replied. Dottie excused herself from the table, using the excuse to use the bathroom but you knew it was just a way for her to leave the room. You followed after her, Peggy taking a deep breath and offered that her and Nat go outside and enjoy some fresh air.
"What is your problem mom?" You asked, following Dottie into your parent's bedroom. She turned to you and shook her head, "She needs to leave and you're not to see her again. Do you understand me?" she said sternly. You closed the door behind you to prevent Natasha from hearing anything that left your mother's lips.
"No, I don't understand! You've known her for a few hours, and you haven't even tried to give her a chance!" You snapped.
"I don't need too; I know this is hard for you to understand but this is for your safety"
"My safety?! Natasha isn't some criminal you and mom need to take off the streets!" You frowned.
"She's worse that that! She's exactly the type of person I don't want my daughter around!" Dottie snapped; you've never heard this tone from her before. Her eyes were full of worry which took you back, your mother had never looked at you with so much fear before. "What is it mom?" You asked in a calmer tone. Dottie shook her head, "you need to ask her to leave, and you can't see her again, I need you to trust me" she repeated.
"No, if you want Natasha to leave, you ask her" you replied before leaving the room to join Natasha and Peggy outside. "Everything okay love?" Natasha asked, placing a hand on your hip while she brushed a lock of hair behind your ear. "Yeah" you sighed, "can we go get some ice cream or something? I don't want to be here right now" you added.
"Honey, your mom just needs a little time to get used to that fact you're growing up" Peggy inserted herself.
"No mom, she didn't even give Natasha a chance and you know it!" You looked over at your mom with tears of frustration filling your eyes. "I think I know what this is about" Natasha replied softly, "let me go talk to her" she added, placing a kiss on your forehead.
"Don't say another word" Dottie's voice made you turn to the back door where she stood.
"Dottie!" Peggy snapped, "Leave it alone" she added. Your mother's words made you frown, "no, why can't Nat say anything? What is going on?" You demanded answers.
"I'm not going to lie to her, Dottie, you might but I won't" Natasha looked at your mother before turning to you, "Your mother and I have the same job, it's not even a job. We don't get paid. We're trained at a place called the Red Ro-"
"Natasha!" Dottie interrupted with a stern tone while her eyes burned into Natasha's. "Can I have a word?" She asked. Natasha nodded and followed your mom into the living room while Peggy did her best to keep you from following them.
"I hoped this day wouldn't come so soon" your mom started.
"What do you mean mom? Please, can you just tell me what's going on?" you asked with arms crossed over your chest. Peggy sat down on one of the outdoor chairs on the porch, she patted the seat next to her and you took a seat beside her. "Your mom used to work for an organisation called Red Room. I've been working endlessly to try and find the location of this place but it's almost impossible. They take girls, from the street, pay for them and brainwash them. Your mother was trained to kill people…" Your mother went on to explain.
Tears streamed down your face by the time Peggy had finished explaining everything to you. Now you know everything and the reason why your mother never told you how work was because she's been trying to stay in the organizations good books to get back to head office to give Peggy the location. Natasha is what they call a widow, she's on a mission and being with you was never part of the plan.
You went inside, not caring about what Nat and your mother were talking about, you walked by Natasha and hugged your mother tightly. She hugged you back just as tight before you let her free and turned to Nat, "so how about that ice cream?" You asked with a soft smile. Natasha read between the lines and nodded, "do you guys want to come?" You asked looking at both your mothers.
"You know what, ice cream sounds really good right now" Dottie smiled softly, "Natasha, what do you drive?" She asked.
"A motorcycle" Nat replied. Dottie looked to Peggy then back to Nat, "How about I drive us" she suggested.
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#yelenasdiary asks#living in my marvel fantasy#fanfiction#marvel#natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff x reader#peggy carter#peggy Carter x reader#dottie underwood#dottie underwood x reader
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Could you love me one last time? (B.B ModernAU!)
Bucky Barnes x Reader
Masterlist
Summary: It was inevitable, everyone else around you could see it. You and Bucky Barnes were meant to fall for each other. Unfortunately you were also meant to break each others hearts. You left, he stayed and you thought that was it, until a wedding made you come back to face the past you left behind.
13.1 k words
Content warning: ANGST, toxic 'situationship' between Reader and Bucky, heartbreak, alcohol comsumption, +18 SMUT, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT Bucky and Reader sleeping with other people while they have their situationship going on.
A/N: It's been a long time since I posted. Ik I teased this a long time ago but life got in the way and I forgot about it but now I'm back with this so I hope you guys like it. You're welcomed to send me an ask with any comments, questions, etc., you have on this 😊
Post dividers by @firefly-graphics
Peggy’s dress was surprisingly beautiful. The first time you had seen it in pictures, the dress up in a hanger, you had thought of it a bit ugly to your liking. The long, slight puffy sleeves, the plain A skirt, and the square neckline made for an overall boring piece of fabric, and when she had asked you over FaceTime what your thoughts were, you couldn’t bring yourself to say it. But now, as she walked with a smile on her face to her soon-to-be husband, you were happy you kept your mouth shut. It wasn’t the dress or the makeup or the hairstyle that made her stunning, it was the love and care in her eyes. It was the happiness in her face whenever she looked at Steve.
Just as she reached the end of the aisle, taking her place next to you and the rest of the bridesmaids, a pair of familiar blue icy eyes caught your attention. Bucky looked good, you could admit to yourself, even after not seeing him for the past almost six years, it seemed that time had just made him even more attractive. He no longer was the youthful, long haired and clean shaved guy that had once dared you to see who could fit more grapes in your mouth, accidentally spitting one to your face as he tried not to choke with them. The traces of his fuckboyish persona were long gone too, instead replaced by a seriousness you had only seen on certain occasions. This Bucky was no longer a boy that enjoyed playing with feelings and breaking hearts; this was a man. A man that looked slightly older had light wrinkles and shorter hair that came with a slight beard. This was a Bucky changed, mature.
This Bucky wasn’t the one you had left behind when you moved away.
His eyes stayed on you during the whole ceremony, and you couldn’t help but stare back at him. For years you had wondered what you would do if you ever saw him again, you wondered if things would be awkward, or perhaps he would act as if nothing had happened, as if both of you hadn’t ended up with a broken heart that night. A part of you thought it would still hurt as it did almost six years ago, maybe the anger would still be there and it would end up with both of you avoiding each other as much as you could. You saw a hundred scenarios running through your head all through your seven hour flight, but you never considered this one.
You never expected he would be so direct, or to look at you with such intensity. You were sure that after all this time he would have already forgotten about you, leaving your memory buried in the back of his mind as he easily replaced you with some other girl. Yet the way his eyes screamed for your attention made you think otherwise, a deep-rooted desperation washed over them, and you understood what he said.
“I’ve missed you.”
You weren’t the only one to notice it. Once the party started and the bride and groom were going around tables greeting everyone, Natasha, Wanda, and Pepper dragged you to the venue's private dressing room to drill you with every question they could think of. You were thankful Peggy was too busy with her new husband, or else the interrogatory would’ve been ten times more exhausting.
“What the hell is going on?”
“Have you guys talked?”
“Are you going to talk to him?”
“Why is he looking at you like that?”
“Do you still love him?”
And that was the million-dollar question, wasn’t it? Did your heart still belong to James Buchannan Barnes? Was your heart still yearning for the tumultuous yet passionate and ultimately toxic relationship that had ensued between both of you?
The answer to all of that was yes and no. You didn’t miss the person you had become at the end of your "relationship," if you could even call it that; you didn’t miss the fights, the crying, and the resentment. You didn’t miss the uncertainty that came with being with young Bucky Barnes or the hole in your chest that you felt whenever he would leave.
However, you did miss his company. Not the bullshit, flirtatious, overly confident, and emotionally distant persona he would often put out. No, that dickhead was one of the reasons you never worked out. Instead, you missed the Bucky that would buy you a coffee every morning, the one that would make you laugh until your stomach hurt, the one that would invite you over to have a movie night and buy your favorite snacks.
You missed Bucky, who used to be your friend.
Natasha, the ever-observant of your group of friends, had warned you before it started. She had seen the way you eyed each other at a party one drunken night, both your eyes burning with desire as a product of the growing sexual tension you have had ever since you met for the first time.
As it turned out, Natasha was not only beautiful but also intuitive.
“Nat, please—” you drunkenly argued. Your red cup filled with liquor spilled as you tried to walk away from the redhead, but her hand stopped you.
“Listen to me. I know you want to fuck him, but you have to promise me you won’t do it.” The seriousness behind her voice didn’t register in your intoxicated brain, though, and you kept rolling your eyes.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You half slurred, half laughed.
“I see the way you look at him; I also see the way he looks at you. Maybe one day you guys could be a good couple, great even, but right now the only thing that could come out of you two hooking up is one of you getting hurt, if not both.” Her hands grabbed your face, and green eyes met yours. “You will break each other's hearts. You already love each other; we can all see it, but neither of you is ready to be in a relationship or to compromise yet. So please, for the love of God, do not sleep with him.”
Natasha’s words were wise, and with time, they turned out to be true. The next morning you had woken up in bed alone; the only memory of him was the smell of cheap beer, sweat, and the cologne he always wore.
That was the first time Bucky had broken your heart.
Truth be told, as much as you had blamed Bucky for the downfall of your situationship, you were as equally guilty as he had been. The loneliness, the anger, and the resentment you felt throughout the relationship were probably reciprocated because, as Nat had said, you weren’t ready to be together.
Both of you loved each other deeply, but you didn’t know how to do it. Not in a healthy way.
So you tore yourselves apart, sleeping with one another but never brave enough to define things. You acted as if you were a couple, but neither of you would admit your feelings, not even to each other. It was a cycle of stability and sex that always crashed down with one of you being scared, perhaps both of you at the same time, of giving your heart away.
“Hey”
Your heart drummed against your chest, and a warmth spread over your cheeks. You had missed his voice, the sweet baritone of his voice had always made your body react like that. And now, after years of not hearing it, you finally realized how much you had craved for it.
He carried two flutes filled with champagne and passed one to you, which you gladly took.
“Thanks.” you said with a smile.
Both of you took a sip from your drinks, unsure of how to start the so needed conversation. Fortunately, Bucky decided to take the first step.
“They seem happy, huh?”
You chuckled mentally at his opening line, but you admitted to yourself you couldn’t do better.
“Yeah.” You took a second sip of your drink. “The happiest I’ve ever seen them.”
“You must be proud.” he pointed out. You looked at him, confused at what he meant. “Of your matchmaking skills. This wouldn’t have happened without you convincing Peggy to let Steve show her around the city when she first moved here.”
Ah, of course. A sweet smile placed on your lips as you remembered Steve’s adoration showing on his face the first time he saw Peggy after coming to visit you. She, on the other hand, thought nothing more of him than just a pretty guy, but you could see that behind the tough façade she always displayed towards men that tried to flirt with her, she was interested in him, his character, and the kindness he always displayed.
So naturally, you intervened. And you got the perfect opportunity when Peggy got offered a job in New York.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You smirked at him.
“Sure,” he chuckled.
A heartbeat passed, and blue eyes connected with yours once again. The more you looked at them, the more you could feel all the things he wanted to say—a storm of words locked behind them and almost ready to spill. But above all, you could see a bit of sadness, and he found himself finding the same in yours.
His hand twitched in instinct, wanting to caress your face to comfort you, as he had done for so many years, but he caught himself before doing it. It was too late though; you caught it the moment you saw his eyes tense up.
“Do you—” his words died on his mouth, the rushed beating of his heart stopping them. He cleared his throat, trying to push out more confidence than he actually felt. “Wanna go take a walk?”
You didn’t answer immediately. You couldn’t. Every rational part of you was screaming at you, scolding you for even thinking of going with him. You couldn't do it, you couldn’t fall for the same cycle you had run away from in the first place. You weren’t the same person as you were before, you matured, and you learned from your mistakes. Going out with the man that always seem to bring your deepest, darkest, and most unwanted feelings was something you couldn't do.
You couldn't.
You shouldn’t.
You shouldn’t.
“Yeah. That sounds nice.”
You were convinced that whoever planned Steve and Peggy’s wedding was into sorcery, or at the very least a clairvoyant. When Peggy and Steve chose this place along with a terrace to host the ceremony, everyone had been skeptical of it, as having a wedding outside in the middle of April wasn’t a good choice. As the day of the ceremony closed in, the rainy days did too, and five days before it wouldn’t stop raining all day. Steve and Peggy had expressed their concerns to the wedding planner, but they only got a confident response that nothing would ruin their day. And the wedding planner had been right, not a single drop fell that day in the middle of April; instead, a cool, warm day had welcomed the newlyweds.
As you walked the chilly but comfortable night streets of New York, you thanked the wedding planner and their perfect timing. Even walking in silence along him brought your heart back to the many times you had done the same thing back then, back when you were just two college students without any idea what the future held for you.
“So... how you’ve been?” He asked, unsure of what else to say.
“I’ve been alright. Work has really taken over my life.”
He chuckled. “You? A workaholic?”
It wasn't that you had been irresponsible or a mess back in college, but you had always been more of an adventurer, and you had always pointed out your desire to never lose your freedom.
He had been the same.
“Look who’s talking, Mr. ‘I have my own firm’,” you teased.
Steve had told you a couple of years ago about their idea of opening his own firm, alongside Bucky and Sam. You remember your heart stopping at the mention of his name, but you didn’t tell Steve to not mention him; instead, you asked more about it. It was the first time in years you got any updates on his life, and you allowed yourself to dwell in it. That call stayed on your mind for weeks.
“Shut up,” he smirked.
That was all he needed to open up about what had happened to him. He told you about his old firm and how he hated to work there. How he wanted to have a place where working pro bono wasn’t such an impossible thing to do, he wanted to do more than just defend white collar rich people that seemed to think the law was always above them. He told you how scared he was of leaving somewhere where he had stability but was ultimately convinced by Steve to make a big move, follow what he wanted to do.
In return, you told him about how scared you had been of building a new life in a different country and how you thought your job would suffer from it, as you had thought that as a journalist with a lack of connections and knowledge of the place would put you in a thought position. You told him how you had met Peggy when you were interviewing a couple of government officers for alleged corruption practices, and out of everyone there, Peggy seemed to be the only one that had taken any concern in it. You told him about the job offer you had gotten for a company right in New York that you weren’t taken so seriously but you still wanted to see what it was.
The more you heard him speak, the more happiness grew inside you. Sometimes you wondered whether you had made the right choice or not when you left him behind, but hearing everything he had accomplished, both of you, you were confident you had done what was right for you both.
You turned to him, both of you stopping in your tracks, your hand moved before you could stop it and found it’s place in his, and he reacted on pure instinct, his fingers intertwining with yours.
Bucky’s touch had always brought you warmth on cold days. Ever since the first time you shook hands, there had been an invisible force that made you crave his touch, your hands prickling wherever he had touch. With Bucky, you had always felt safe, even when he was breaking your heart.
You searched in his eyes for any signs of uncomfortableness or rejection at your touch, your heart aching in your chest at the thought of it, but there was only surprise and vulnerability in them. The corner of his eyes lowered as his eyebrows furrowed and his thumb swept over your skin, sending sparkles all over your body.
He had missed this, more than he would ever admit.
“I’m proud of you, Jamie.” His face lit up, a happy smile spreading over his face. “I always knew you would do great things.”
Bucky’s hand leaves yours, a sudden ache installing in your chest, but it didn’t stay there long as he engulfed you in a tight hug, one of his arms surrounding your waist and the other one going behind your neck.
Your head found its place in the crook of his neck, and his hand held the back of your head. His eyes closed as he smelled your lavender shampoo.
“I’m so proud of you too, my beautiful angel,” he whispered next to your ear, making your eyes prickle with the treat of tears spilling from them. “Peggy told me how hard you’ve worked for your position. You have the job of your dreams, you deserve every promotion you’ve gotten, every award, and every adventure you’ve had. I’m proud of the life you have built for yourself.”
The hug became tighter as you both relished in each other's touch and smell, a memory of the past that still ached but also brought you the sweetest of comfort.
Even after all that had happened, the love and care, no matter how tainted it had ended up as, still remained there. Deep down, in the bittersweet memories of how good things had been and the old promises that were never kept, the feelings were still there.
After a few minutes, the embrace was cut short, both of you now slightly embarrassed for the sudden display of affection. The heat in your cheeks made you cringe inwards, and you forced yourself to look away. You shouldn’t have done that. You shouldn't have enjoyed it as much as you did. You promised yourself you wouldn’t do this, you wouldn't feel so deeply for him.
As it turned out, stopping loving Bucky Barnes wasn’t as easy as you had thought.
His hand wrapped yours, taking you by surprise. A charming smile showed his white teeth, and the little wrinkles around his eyes made your heart melt. You smiled back at him, the butterflies in your stomach growing stronger and stronger; perhaps they never left.
“Remember that old bar with the arcade inside?” he asked out of nowhere.
“The one where we found after the whole John Walker thing?” He nodded. “Yeah, what about it?”
“Let’s go grab a drink there.”
Electricity ran through your veins at his words, and you felt like you were a freshman in college again.
“Aren’t we a little too overdressed to go to a bar?” You question. Bucky’s navy blue suit that was paired with an expensive-looking pair of black shoes and your lilac flowy long dress were definitely too much for a dinky little bar.
Bucky’s eyes shone with a youthful spark you had seen so long ago as he squeezed your hand.
“Who cares?”
When you got accepted into your first college choice, you thought you might have been dreaming. The chances you got accepted were the lowest of every place that you had applied to, but by some miracle you got it. You had dreamed of what college life would be—the classes you would take, the new and interesting people you would meet, and even the parties you would attend. You had prepared yourself for a life full of work and perhaps adventure.
But not even a lifetime of daydreaming could’ve prepared you for Bucky Barnes.
Life is filled with an ocean of coincidences, but the ones that always lingered in your mind were the ones that brought you to him. If Natasha’s phone had not died the night before, she would’ve woken up in time to get to class, and she would’ve taken her preferred spot in the middle of the class. If she had woken up in time, she wouldn’t have ended up sitting in the only available seat, which coincidentally was next to you.
If Natasha had woken up earlier, you would’ve never ended up talking to her and subsequently going to go grab something to eat; she would’ve never introduced you to her roommate Wanda or her longtime friend Steve. Also, she would’ve never invited you to hang out with the rest of her friend group in the exact same bar that you would adopt for a weekly Friday reunion for the rest of college.
And perhaps you would’ve never had met Bucky Barnes, or you would’ve ended up being one of many nightstands. Or maybe life would’ve ended up bringing you to him no matter what, because after meeting him you started to believe in soulmates. Not in the typical type of soulmates that, with just one glance, you weren’t that naive, but you did believe in the type of soulmates that would understand you unlike anyone else. There had always been an emptiness in your heart that you never noticed, not until he held you for the first time after a bad day.
Bucky was your soulmate because things had never been complicated with him, not even the first time you met each other. Talking to him, opening up, and letting him see the ugliest parts of yourself was almost second nature to you. You were convinced that the only person who could see the world the same as you was him. He saw the good and the bad in you because, in the end, the same parts in you that were broken were already broken in himself.
Maybe this was why you didn’t work out.
At the time you didn’t care, the only thing you cared about was the fact that being with Bucky made you feel good. That’s why it wasn’t so hard to convince you to go with him to do things that weren’t necessarily smart, wise... or legal. Things like breaking into a party that was hosted by Bucky’s college nemesis and spray painting in his room the words “You are nothing without Daddy’s money.” Bucky had always been talented at hitting where it hurt, especially when it came to someone who had jeopardized his scholarship.
John Walker had been furious later that night when he had brought a girl upstairs only to fund the stench of the spray pain nauseatingly filling his room. The black letters still dripped from the freshness of it, and Walker had gone in what could only be described as a temper tantrum at the age of twenty, at least that’s what everyone had said next Monday when you went back to class.
That night you had decided to celebrate, roaming the streets of New York in search of a bar that would take your fake ID’s and wouldn’t think twice about it but could also drink in peace without having to fight for a beer. Unfortunately, everywhere seemed to be either packed or the bartender would intensely check everyone's ID, driving you away from there. You had already paid a good amount for them, you didn’t want to risk losing it.
Almost close to giving up and just going back to Bucky’s apartment, a neon light caught your attention. Big, bright cyan letters read “Blue Circuit," a lonely bar in the middle of town that not a lot of people seemed to go to. A bar that would become a place just for you and Bucky, away from everyone else, from people’s expectations, and above all, away from the real world. As long as you were there with him, nothing mattered, and no one else could break apart what this place meant.
But if things had gone the way they were supposed to, then you wouldn’t have left, and even after all these years, this place would still be yours, and his eyes wouldn’t have looked at you with such hatred when he had caught you in the bathroom with a random guy you met at a party.
“C’mon!” Bucky yelled once your character had gotten the last winning hit on his. The animation of the pixelated woman with steel fans using them to cut his character's head officially proclaimed your victory.
With a cocky smile, you took a step back, winking at him as you took a sip of your drink, and the taste of rum filled your taste buds. “I don’t know why you’re so surprised, I’ve always been better at this than you.”
His body came close to you, close enough to smell the beers he had been taking, and with a seamless swing he took your glass away from your lips and brought it to his, his body ever so slightly trapping you against a table.
“That’s because you always cheat.” He said, with a playfulness in his eyes that made your heart pound against your chest. “You do your little cheat codes that I’ve never learned.”
“You mean learning the combos and using them?” You questioned with a raised eyebrow.
“Sure, if that’s what you call them.”
You took back your drink, placing it on the table behind you, before grabbing his hand and guiding him through the other machines, scanning them with your eyes as you passed the few that still remained there. The classics were still there: Pacman, Space Invaders, MK, Tetris, etc; but those were still games that Bucky still struggled with. You remembered you used to tell him he had an old soul, and that’s why he always struggled to play any videogames, no matter how old they were.
“So, what do you want to get your ass beaten on now?”
His eyes swept through the room until they finally landed in a new addition to the bar, a brand new air hockey table. He didn’t even have to say a word, once his eyes had reached yours, you knew it.
With a happy smile, you rushed to the table. The way you both laughed reminded you of the way you would run hand in hand to your next class when you were late, the rushing in your veins and the tingling sensation of his touch in your skin being the only thing that mattered once you caught a glance of his face. A silly crush, you had deemed it. As if his smile wouldn’t warm up your inside, as if his presence wasn’t the only one that you could tolerate sometimes. As if he hadn’t managed to become one of the most important people in your life in just six months.
As if he wasn’t your first actual love.
College me was so naive, you thought amused with yourself. What you weren’t expecting was the speckles of bitterness that lingered in your mouth moments after it.
“You wanna make this more interesting?” Bucky broke you from your thoughts.
Right, air hockey.
“I’m listening.” A smooth tone filled every letter you said, making his skin filled with goosebumps.
He dug into his pockets, pulling out the change he had previously gotten from the bartender so you could use it and putting it in the side of the machine. One flat hockey disc fell, and he placed it on his side.
“Let’s make it a challenge.”
“What do you mean?”
James, the man whore seductress he always was, began uncuffing his sleeves off, folding them up until they reached right below his elbow. At first you would’ve thought of it as a way to get himself comfortable for the game, but the way he leaned over the table, his muscles popping discreetly against his shirt and his eyes burning you with something you were familiar with, you knew it was intentional.
“If any of us score a point, we get to ask a question to the other person , whatever it is, and we have to answer it, no bullshit allowed.”
Bucky was tempting you the same way he used to do it. He had something in mind he wanted to ask, and he was fishing for an in. He knew how to sweet-talk to you to give in, he knew how attractive he was, and he had learned what worked on you to the tea. James knew what he was doing just as much as you knew it, and that wasn’t even the worst part.
The worst part was how much you wanted to give in.
“No bullshit, huh?” You asked, downing the rest of your drink before grabbing the mallet in your hand. If James Buchanan Barnes knew something was how to bring excitement to your life. You missed that. “Alright, ready to tell me your deepest, darkest secrets?”
He chuckled at your words, an ever so attractive smirk placing in his lips as he moved medium length hair away from his face. “Overconfidence is going to be your downfall, angel.”
Ah, there it was again. Angel.
He was trying, you could give him that. He really was trying. He knew that nickname always made your heart race faster. Sure, it wasn’t the most original one, people had called you that before, but it the way he said it that made it special.
He always made you feel special.
“It’s not overconfidence, old man. It’s just a fact.”
“Hey, fuck you. I’m only a year older than you.” You gave him a blank stare, knowing fully aware that wasn’t what you meant. “Besides, people say I have an old soul.”
And with that, the game started.
He took you by surprise, the little shit. A hard swipe, and the disk went zigzagging through the table until it got past your guard. The sound of the disk falling back for you to pick it up finally reached your ears before you could even process what was going on.
“That was cheating!” You argued, picking the disc back up.
James shrugged. “What? Now that I score a point, you're going to call it cheating?” He started to shake his head. “Such a sore loser.”
Ok, alright. He wanted to play like that, you could play the same.
“Fine.” You grunted. “Ask away.”
He took his time, a couple of seconds in, and you could see the question forming in his mind. Your heart pumped against your chest so rapidly, anticipation building up at what he was going to say.
“What was the first thing you thought when you saw me again?"
“Uh,” you stammered, You weren’t sure what you were expecting him to ask, but it still took you aback. “That’s your first question?”
James shrugged. “I’m just curious.”
“Well, I thought you looked more mature.”
“You mean old?” He questioned, half offended.
"No,” you chuckled. “Mature in the sense that I can’t see that same childishness I used to see all over your face ever since I met you.” You threw back the disk in the table and shot it with your mallet, the disk zigzagging all over the table. Bucky’s reflexes were good though, he blocked it right as it was about to go through and the next round began. “A part of me expected to see the same smug, cocky smile that followed me all through college but with a couple of wrinkles, maybe even a few gray hairs.” He chuckled. “But it’s not there. Well, it’s still there, but not in the same ‘I’m Bucky Barnes, I’m a total 10 and I know it and I definitely think I’m the hottest shit around’ type of way” You paused for a second, before almost whispering. “I was glad it isn’t there anymore.”
For a moment his eyes left the table and went to see your face. You thought for a second your words might’ve offended him, but the smile plastered all over his face brought relief to you.
“I was that annoying, huh?” he chuckled.
“Just a little bit.” You shrugged.
With an abrupt movement, you stopped the black circle and looked directly at him. Blue eyes looked at you confused until he saw the coy smile on your lips, your eyes looking deeper into him and making his spine shiver.
You gave him “the eyes.”.
“I also thought I almost forgot how good you look when you wear blue.” You told him before sliding the disk right across the table.
Score.
Not only could you play the same game as him, you could play it better.
After all, it was you that made the first move that night.
“Are you sure we can go up there this late?” You questioned as the imposing building in front of you two seemed locked for the night.
Bucky’s hand squeezed yours harder while still guiding you towards it. “Trust me, I’ve spent my fare share of nights here.”
He knocked on the glass doors, as they were already blocked at this time of the night. A man dressed in a security guard outfit came close to the door, a tired smile on his face.
“I’m starting to think you don’t actually own a house, Mr. Barnes.” He joked while searching between his keys.
The security guards comment made him chuckle. “What can I say, Jeff? There’s nothing like the smell of a copy machine to put me to sleep.”
“I can tell.” Jeff let you in, closing the door quickly behind you. “And I see you brought some company this time.”
You smiled at him shyly, extending your hand to introduce you as you told him your name. “It’s nice to meet you, Jeff.”
“Nice to meet you too, maybe you can convince this one to stop sleeping here every once in a while.”
“I’ll try my best.” You smiled at him.
After a few more inoffensive jabs from Jeff, you and Bucky made your way towards the elevator, the doors closing as you waved goodbye to the old, gray-haired man. You chuckled one last time at his jokes, and you laid against the wall. There was something about this building that you couldn’t shake off, the layout seeming all too familiar, scratching the back of your mind, but you weren’t able to see why.
“Have I been here before?” You told him.
He turned around with that playful smile he always had, and your heart skipped a beat. His eyes looked at you, and you could tell his mind went to the past, a memory he seemed to treasure.
“I’m surprised it took you so long to recognize it.”
“I don’t remember it, it just seems familiar.”
A small flash of disappointment crossed his blue eyes, and it made you feel a little guilty, but his little smile stayed the same.
“Maybe once we reach the top you’ll remember.” He told you, his fingers sliding between yours once the door opened.
You walked through the hallways of the office space, a lonely desk welcoming you both with a big plaque behind it that read “Rogers & Barnes” with golden letters. He had told you about his partnership with Steve, but having actually seen it made you realize how real it was.
Bucky deserved it; they both did. Everything they had worked for they had earned it with sweat, blood, and tears, and if there was anyone that had ever deserved success, it was both of them.
You kept walking, turning in some hallways and walking up some flights of stairs, passing conference rooms, what seemed to be a communal eating space, and office floors filled with computers and documents. Your journey came to an end once you reached a door, his name engraved on the dark chocolate wooden door.
Once you were inside, you left your coat on one of the three deep blue couches that occupied the center of the room.
“I’ll be right back.” He said before turning around and leaving you alone.
You took your time admiring the place. His desk, big and magnificent, looked clean and professional—not a single paper out of place. On the sides of the room there were bookshelves, some of them filled with books, others with binders of what you assumed was important documentation. However, what caught your eye was the pictures displaying on them.
There was one of Steve and him, both dressed up, and the golden sign in the entrance behind them. You assumed it was taken when they had opened the office, a big, almost juvenile expression on their faces. The next one was one of him with his old college football team, you saw similar faces popping up, Thor, Sam, Clint, Tony, Pietro, Steve, even young Peter was in it. They were all sweating, but the grins on their faces made you think this was after one of the games they had won.
You expected to see pictures from before, but you never thought you would see your own face in them. Almost all of the group pictures that showed all of you had him next to you, his arm around your shoulders or your waist, his grip pressing you against him. In all of them, you were both happy, except one of them caught your eye. It was a normal group picture on the surface, but this time his eyes weren’t on the camera taking the picture.
His eyes were on you.
“Having fun?” His words broke you out of your thoughts. You turned around, his hands holding two glasses and a bottle of scotch.
“Just looking at your collection of mementos.” You answered, leaving the picture in its rightful place.
You accepted the drink, taking a small sip of it as the bitter taste reached your tongue.
“So, you still don’t recognize it?” he questioned.
You shook your head. “Nope, I got no idea where we are.”
He guided you to the big glass wall to the side of his desk, and you saw it, overwhelmingly beautiful and majestic. The city looked bright, colored vibrating lights filling the scene while skyscrapers rose above everything, its architecture set in a messy yet harmonious display.
“What a view.” Was the only thing you were able to say, your hand reaching to touch the glass.
“Now look over there.” He pointed to your left.
Your eyes squinted, trying to search for whatever it was that he was trying to show you, but the darkness of the night didn’t help at all.
“On that tall building, under the light.”
You scanned the scenery, this time more carefully, until you finally found it. Your heart pounded against your chest, the tears almost filling your eyes instantly. That old brown wall was lit up by a single lamp, but its brightness was enough for you to read the graffiti on it.
If it’s meant to be, it’ll be.
Once sentence, and you were twenty-two again.
Tony’s party had been more fun than you had thought. When he had invited you all to the inauguration of this building, his building, you guessed it would be filled with pompous and uptight rich people. Maybe there would be boring classical music in the background and the menu would be entirely of caviar, Iberic ham, and some weird meat like kangaroo steak or something like that.
You should’ve known better than that.
Tony Stark, the only heir to the Stark fortune, was known for his rebellious ways. If he was throwing a party, it would definitely be wild; it didn’t matter what the setting was. So, in true Tony Starks style, the party ended up being a music and alcohol fest, to his father's dismay. Most of the attendees were his “party friends," with the exception of his parents and a few of their friends, and what was supposed to be a dull night ended up almost being a college party.
You and your friends had fun dancing, drinking, and laughing in the best clothes you owned. For you, it had been a green sequin dress you had the fortune to have found in a thrift store, as being a college student didn’t really allow you to spend hundreds of dollars on a dress. Bucky's suit had been an old deep blue one his mother had bought him for when his sister got married.
He looks amazing, you thought to yourself.
She looks breathtaking, he thought to himself.
He had spent the whole night by your side, as this had been one of your “good streaks,” as you called them. Neither of you had started a fight in a while, there hadn’t been any angry calls, tears, or ignoring each other, nor was there any jealousy, petty revenge, or hooking up with strangers. The last three were the worst; those usually happened when shit hit the fan, more often than not, and would leave you with an empty feeling after the storm had cleared.
Fortunately, this night instead had been filled with dancing, kisses, and lingering touches that would make you feel as in the highest of clouds. You loved the way his lips would kiss your neck, or how his fingers would caress your face, one of his hands in the back of your neck. You loved the kisses, how his lips tasted, the smell of his cologne, and the way his hair would fall on top of his eyes. You loved the way he smiled when he looked at you, how when he started to notice you, you were overwhelmed by everyone around and took you to explore the new but somewhat empty hallways.
You loved the way he made you laugh.
You loved the way he always knew how to say the right thing, even when everything else was bad.
You loved the way he made you feel.
You loved that you felt safe.
You loved— You loved—
You loved hi—
“Let’s go, around here.” Bucky pulled you with one hand, the other holding a bottle of champagne.
After a couple of minutes more, you finally found an empty office, all the way back into the room. An impressive big glass wall on the side of the office lets you see the whole city at night. It was beautiful.
Bucky took out his jacket, putting it on the floor so both of you could sit on top of it. After settling down, he opened the bottle, the cork flying behind you. The both of you stayed there for a while, your heads resting against his shoulder while you passed around the bottle.
“Could you imagine having an office like this?”
You chuckled. “Only if I win the lottery. Or marry a rich guy.”
“Too bad I’m broke.” He retorted, taking a sip.
His words took you aback, once again. Bucky had a tendency of saying things like that, and you weren’t sure how they made you feel. Sure, you could clearly see a future with him, but that wasn’t what you had agreed on. After that first night, you had agreed you were better as friends, but the next weekend ended with the two of you sleeping together again, and you decided that perhaps adding some benefits would be the best. Always friends, but never more.
Then why would he always say things like that?
You stood up, coming close to the crystal wall in an attempt to escape the overwhelming thoughts that plagued you once you thought about your "situationship." After a few seconds, he stood up too, placing himself to your right.
“I would like to work in a place half as nice as this.”
“Maybe you can ask Tony to give you family and friends a discount."
Your retort was met with a sarcastic laugh. "Yeah, right, even then I’d have to sell one of my kidneys to be able to afford one month's rent.”
“I’d tell you to sell your liver after, but with how much you drink, it’s probably already damaged goods.”
He laughed. He always looked so beautiful when he laughed.
Why were things so simple yet so simple with him? Why was being friends with him so complicated? You wanted more, you knew that he wanted more, but for some reason neither of you would say it. None of you were brave enough to say it.
Maybe the bad things about your “situationship” would go away once you were together. Maybe if you finally decided to take the first step, whether you felt ready or not, then the things that he did that broke your heart would stop. Maybe you would also stop trying to break his in return.
“I—”
Before you could even get one full word out, he interrupted you.
“What the fuck?”
His eyes were looking at some of the buildings below, an amused expression on his face.
“What?”
“Down there, there’s a guy doing graffiti.” He pointed.
You scanned the buildings over where he pointed, thankful that your eyesight was good enough to be able to spot a person with a red hoodie painting on a big wall that he had just covered with a lot of strokes of blue, purple, and pink, all of them mixing together to form what looked like a galaxy. He had just started to paint something on top of it, so his body was blocking the progress he had made, but you could tell he was writing something.
“What do you think he’s writing?” You asked him, your eyes fixated on the stranger.
“Something that will make us question the meaning of life.” He stated in an all-too-serious tone. “Or maybe he’s just writing his name.”
You chuckled. “Maybe he’s writing something like ‘peace’ or ‘love’, something nice.”
“Or, hear me out, something about being chill or keeping it real.”
After a few minutes of brainstorming options, Bucky pointed out the stranger had finished. After a few seconds of squinting your eyes, you saw the white letters that were still dripping with the freshness of the paint, and it read:
‘If it’s meant to be, it’ll be.’
Your eyes welled up with tears.
You were sure things were meant to be with him, but you weren’t ready to say them out loud. Not when you were so scared. Not when you couldn’t even tell him how you felt. Not when you couldn’t even bring to think those three words that would linger in your brain.
Not when a small part of you hated him when things were bad.
Instead of risking it all, you grabbed the bottle from his hands, taking a sip of it and rasing your pinky finger. “Let’s make a promise.”
His finger held yours.
“About what?”
“That no matter what, we’ll always be friends.”
“I thought that was implied already.” He joked.
“Promise it.”
His grip got tighter.
“I promise. Until death do us apart.”
And with that, he pulled towards himself, his arm around your shoulder as you both looked at the city lights.
“And who knows, maybe once you graduate you’ll get a good job, save some money, and have your own firm here. Or maybe get Tony to be your sugar daddy and gift you the whole building.”
He chortled. “Only if you promise you’ll stop by once in a while to have lunch with me.” He kissed you at the top of your head before continuing. “And to help me break things up with him after he signs the deal.”
“Promise.”
As life would have it, every promise you made each other was broken.
“How?” You questioned him, still taken aback.
“When Steve and I were planning on opening our own place together, we couldn’t find a good place to rent, so Tony offered us a space here.”
“He offered you this office?”
“Well, not this one exactly. I asked him if we could get this one.”
You didn’t utter a word for a couple of minutes, the silence of the office drowning you. A thousand questions ran through your mind as you processed what he said. Only after you were sure you could speak, you let out one word.
“Why?”
Bucky's eyes changed, the creases in the corners of his eyes pulled them down, and his eyes were clouded with a sadness you weren’t sure how to describe.
“You know why.” He whispered, so quietly you almost didn’t hear it.
Heartbreak.
That’s what you saw in his eyes.
A heartbreak that you thought you had left behind so many years ago.
You took a sip of your drink, hoping the burning of the alcohol would take away the knot in your throat.
“Well, that realization came in a little too late, didn’t it?” You remarked. You sounded bitter, it wasn’t intentional, but your mouth seemed to be acting before you could stop it.
“Yeah, I guess it did.” He muttered.
Why did he have to bring this up? Why couldn’t you just keep pretending like you were catching up as if you were just old friends who hadn’t seen each other in a while? Why couldn't you just keep pretending?
You left the glass on his desk and grabbed your coat.
“It’s late; I should probably go back to my hotel. I gotta prepare for my interview.”
“Don’t leave yet, please.” He begged.
He grabbed your hand, his touch breaking your heart once again. You didn’t move away from it though, you weren’t sure you were able to hold yourself together if you broke apart. You didn’t want to break apart. He came closer to you, his hand going to your waist as the other one wiped away the stray tears that scaped your eyes.
Bucky’s eyes looked at your lips before turning his attention to your eyes. He wanted to kiss you, he craved it like a madman in a dessert that hadn’t had water in weeks. He needed to kiss you, but he was still looking for something in you that would stop him. The sound of your coat dropping on the floor and your hand on top of his was the answer he needed.
His lips tasted like scotch and longing. Your arms surrounded his neck in an attempt to bring him closer to you. You could feel his heartbeat against your skin, the desperation of his touch as his hand pushed the back of your head to him. The kiss wasn’t pretty to watch either, but you liked it this way. It was messy and hurried, but you could feel everything he felt.
The side of you you had buried half a decade ago was crawling back to the surface, it’s claws filled with love, passion, admiration, and all the good things that came with Bucky. But it also brought everything that was unfinished, all the fights, the pain, and worst of all, all the resentment that you had never spoken about.
It was all at once.
And it was too much.
“No.” You pushed him away.
You needed to get out. You needed to run away.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I loved you before.” His voice was rushed, he knew his time with you was coming to an end. “I was an idiot, I was scared—“
“I don’t want to hear it.” You bent down to grab your things, but your belongings had come out of the pockets, your purse spilling its contents.
“— and for the past six years the only thing that’s been in my head is that I should’ve told you that day how much I loved you—”
“Stop.” You were trying to pick up everything.
“—and I know I should’ve went after you, I should’ve apologized for everything I did to you—”
“Stop it.”
“—but I was a coward. I’m still a coward because that’s the first thing I should’ve done when I saw you. But I’m here now because—”
“No.”
“— I still love you,—”
“Stop.”
“—I never stopped loving you—”
“Fucking stop!”
Your scream resounded in the office, the echo bouncing off the walls. Your words made him back away, as if you had burned him.
“Just—” your voice cracked, the tears prickling your eyes. “Just stop.”
He took a step forward, his hands hesitantly moving towards you, but you slapped them away.
“Why are you telling me this? Why now?”
For a few seconds, he remained silent as if he didn’t know either.
“Because I lied. That night you left my apartment, I lied when I said that I didn’t want the same thing as you.”
“You alright? You sounded weird over the phone.” Bucky asked as he opened the door.
Your hands were shaking with anticipation, your heart beating against your chest so quickly you thought you were about to have a heart attack.
“Yeah, I’m alright.” You answered as you made your way to the couch, your hands gripping on the side of it in an attempt to calm down.
His steps echoed behind you, the sound of a glass clinging was followed by running water.
“You want anything to drink?” he offered.
“No thanks.”
"Ok, just give me a sec, and I’ll be with you.”
You assumed he was doing the dishes by the amount of noise he was making. Bucky had always been a loud person, this being a clear example. A somewhat annoying charm of his that right now was calming enough to make your pulse settle, at least enough to let go of the poor couch.
Instead, you just rested your hands on the side, caressing the fabric. Your whole focus on it until you felt a change in the texture. You looked at your hand, almost in between the cushions, and saw something that looked and felt like lace. As you pulled it out, you recognized it was underwear.
It wasn’t your underwear.
Don’t think about it, you said to yourself.
Someone else was here.
Don’t think about it.
Who was it?
Don’t think about it.
Was it Dolores again?
Don’t.
Think.
About.
It.
“So, what do you want to talk about?” He said behind you.
Quickly, you put the underwear back in its place, tucking it. He sat next to you, his back reclined.
The next few minutes were a blur in your mind. Sure, you had prepared a speech that you had gone over and over again until you had seen all possible scenarios and you had prepared for every possible answer he could have. What you didn’t expect was for you to black out while doing it, only remembering a few sentences.
“I know we said that we would leave things be, that we were good as just friends, but from the very beginning I’ve wanted to be with you, not just as friends. You make me happy, you make me feel safe, you make me feel alive.”
“You have become the only one in my heart, I can’t feel like this for anyone else. I don’t want to feel like this for anyone else.”
“Things haven’t been exactly light and breezy as we expected, but I know that we can be better. We can be good. It’s not too late for us.”
“I love you. I’ve loved you from the very beginning. And I think I will always love you.”
You knew things were over. What gave it away wasn’t the fact that he remained silent, letting both of you simmer in the echo of your words, it wasn’t either that his body had positioned as far away as the couch could allow it, with him almost sitting in its arm.
It was the eyes. The cloudiness in them, along with a mixture of emotions that were happening too fast for you to process. For a millisecond, there was a tenderness that made your heart melt. He wanted it too, you were sure.
That was until you saw the fear.
“I—I can’t.”
Two words and your world shattered.
“What?”
He stood up, beginning to pace back and forth. The fear that you had seen was being replaced with anger.
“We agreed to be just friends. You even said it was for the best.” He argued
“I wasn’t being honest. I was afraid.” You tried to reason with him, but he wasn’t listening. “I was afraid that you didn’t want it, or that this could ruin our friendship.”
“And this isn’t going to ruin us?”
It hurt. He must’ve seen it so he went up to you, his hands cupping your face.
“We are better off being like this. I’ve never wanted a relationship, and neither have you, and you know it. We care about each other, and sure, we sleep together, but that’s what works out for us. What’s so wrong about being friends who sleep with each other?”
You didn’t answer for a while, your heart trembling in your chest.
“You…” Your voice was barely above a whisper, your throat closing as you fought the tears that wanted to escape your eyes. “You don’t love me?”
His forehead touched yours before answering. “Of course I love you. You have become one of the most important people in my life, and I lo– I can’t explain the way you make me feel. But this is not about that, I can’t love you the way you want me to love you. What we have is good, why can’t that be enough?”
He loved you but didn’t want to love you. Why?
Because your love was never good enough. That’s why there’s someone else’s underwear stuffed between the cushions.
You scoffed at him, pulling yourself apart. “Good? You mean is good for you because you get to fuck me and anything that walks without feeling guilty?”
Your words were venomous. You wanted to hurt him, you wanted him to feel like you. And above all, you wanted to win, you wanted him to hurt more than you.
He turned around, looking as if you had just slapped him.
“Don’t fucking start.”
“I mean, that’s all you care about, isn’t it?” You pulled out the underwear and threw it to his face, a shocking expression as he grabbed it with his hand before throwing it away.
“Where did you get that?”
“It was in the fucking couch.” You threw him one of his couch cushions. “Let me guess, Dolores?” you asked, bitterly.
His lack of answer was enough.
You laughed sarcastically. "You’re fucking pathetic, you know that? Honestly, it’s getting really sad to watch you grovel around that upper class bitch, hoping her daddy will let you get an interview in his firm. At least have some self-respect and accept the fact that no matter how many times you screw her, you’re never going to get out of the shithole you were born in.” You got close to his face, so close you could feel his breath on you.
His fists clenched until his knuckles turned white. He was angrier than you had ever seen him before, but the pain in his eyes was the thing that you noticed the most. You had hurt him where it hurt the most.
Good.
Except he wasn’t going to go down without a fight.
“At least I’m not the one that came here expecting something more out of this because I’m the only man that has stuck long enough in your life and didn’t just fuck you and leave. Now that’s fucking pathetic.”
Silence. He regretted the moment the words left his mouth as your eyes clouded with tears, but he couldn’t say sorry, not after what he said.
This was the end.
It was always meant to end this way.
“I never meant any of the things I said that night.” Bucky pleaded.
“It doesn’t matter anymore. We can’t change the past.”
You walked away from him, opting instead to look at the city lights outside of the window. Your own reflection welcomed you at the same time, tears ruining what once had been a nicely applied makeup. Dark speckles covered the top of your cheeks; your eyeliner was almost gone, with the puffiness starting to settle instead.
This image seemed way too familiar; the last time you saw it was almost six years ago.
Bucky walked behind you.
“I’m sorry.”
A bitter laugh came out of you unexpectedly. Things never really change, do they?
You whipped your tears away, suddenly feeling as if you had run a marathon. The weight of everything made you think you weren’t going to make it past the doors of the building.
“I’ve heard that before.”
You turned around, little droplets streaming down his face.
“I love you.” His voice trembled.
You came close to him, your hands whipping away his tears.
“And what good has that done to us?”
If you hadn’t been so drowning in the sense of despair that didn’t seem to want to leave you, you might’ve found it funny the fact that every time you were in this room you ended up with a broken heart.
Your words had seemed to leave Bucky speechless as he only stared at you while a thousand thoughts ran through his mind, his eyes coming to the realization that you were right. What good is love when the only thing that you get out of it is pain?
His forehead was warm when you placed a kiss on it, but his body was still not moving. His breath hitched for a second when you cupped his pace, his eyes finally staring at you, empty.
Familiar arms wrapped around you, his arms encasing you in an embrace that yelled misery, a misery that could almost be compared to yours. Your legs started giving in, the imaginary weight of the situation taking a toll on you like nothing before.
People say that the way to stop hating someone is forgiveness. You had healed, you had reflected, and you had learned and forgiven. You had been right before when you said you didn’t hate him anymore; no matter how much you tried, you couldn’t hate him forever.
You knew how to forgive.
But how do you stop loving someone who's hurt you as much as you have them?
“I still love you too,” your lips trembled, a bitter sensation placing on your throat. “Why do I still love you?”
You trapped your love for so long you had convinced yourself it was gone along with the hate. It was only natural, wasn’t it? You had fooled yourself, though. It was always there, burning deep in you along with all the pain it had brought with itself, and now that you allowed yourself to admit it, it came in as if it were the first day.
“I don’t know,” he whispered against your lips. The warmth of his hand against your face made you yearn for a different outcome. “But not even thousands of miles between us and a hundred years could make me forget about you. Nothing can.”
His eyes looked at yours, desperately as if the words were rushing out of his mouth, running out of time.
“Nothing.”
You kissed him.
You kissed him with hunger.
You kissed him with anger.
You kissed him violently, desperately, passionately.
You kissed him with love.
His hands reached back to your zipper with a movement so quick you didn’t know how your dress ended up on the floor. Your chest was exposed as the dress you were wearing couldn’t be worn with a bra. The desire in his eyes made you shudder; his pupils had seemed to grow, and the look on them seemed almost animalistic.
You were like a drug to him, and this was the first time in years he had seen you like this.
Who were you to deny him when he looked at you like that?
You were never a romantic when it came to sex. The slow kisses, the soft touches, and the caresses were never your thing. You craved for the roughness, the possessiveness, and the fire. You were never a romantic when it came to sex, but with Bucky, there was always a layer of care, even in the roughest of times. His eyes always looked at you with a softness that made your heart pound against your chest.
Perhaps sex was never pretty whenever you two were together, but it sure as hell felt amazing.
Somehow his clothes were on the floor along with yours, both of you using them as a way to avoid the coldness of the tile. His hands dragged along your skin, his touch burning you with passion as they made their way down to your underwear. You were thankful you had chosen a semi-sexy pair of black panties instead of the almost grandma but extremely comfortable ones you had thought of. His lips went for your neck, nibbling just a little in the right spot to make your thighs clench.
A part of Bucky was relieved that he hadn’t forgotten how to touch you. He remembered the spot on your neck, right below your ear, that made you shiver. He remembered the way you liked when he toyed with you, his fingers just barely brushing against your slit over your panties. Your nails scratched his arm, a confirmation for him that you needed more of him.
Bites and licks traveled down your body, invading your senses. Your hands pulled on his hair hard, guiding him to kiss you again as your hands pulled down the edge of his boxers. You couldn’t take him anymore; you needed him now.
You both looked like teenagers, fighting to get out of the final remnant of your clothes while looking desperate to finally be able to fuck. In any other situation, you would’ve laughed at the sight of it, but now there was nothing you could think of more than having Bucky inside you.
Perhaps deep down you were still those dumb teenagers.
His fingers played with your clit, drawing slow and dragged circles that overloaded all your nerve endings. He knew the pace you liked, the muscle memory acting by itself. In return, yours also acted the same, drawing small little circles on the top of his cock. His breath hitched once your finger dragged along the vein of his cock.
One of his hands went to your neck, pressing slightly hard.
“You missed this, didn’t you?” He whispered against your ear. You couldn’t talk, the hand on your neck making sure of that, so you nodded. “I missed this too, angel.”
His fingers made their way inside you, your wetness letting them go inside easily as he reached inside for that little spot you loved so much. You couldn’t control the moans that came out of your mouth, and you were thankful there wasn’t anyone else on this floor.
You were getting close, your thighs clenching along with your walls, but his fingers left you once you were on the edge. You opened your eyes to look at him, anger clear on them, but you just saw him placing himself between your legs, his body on top of yours.
He was bigger than you remembered, his cock sliding into you slowly, allowing you to take your time to get used to him. You were waiting for the hard thrusts as soon as he knew you were ready, but instead he cupped one on your cheeks.
He kissed you.
He kissed you, but it wasn’t like before.
It wasn’t filled only with lust, dominance, and passion.
His lips tasted sweeter, his touch seemed warmer, but most importantly, his feelings were different.
He was kissing you with so much love it was almost overwhelming. He wasn’t stopping himself from showing it anymore; he allowed himself for the first time to be honest with you, but above all with himself.
He loved you.
He loved you intentionally and wholeheartedly.
He loved you eternally.
The sunrise shine began to make its way above the darkness. A couple of glasses with whiskey and a packet of crackers lay in front as you covered yourselves with a blanket he kept for when he stayed.
His fingers were drawing lazy circles on your skin as you were playing with his hair. A few stray kisses would sometimes land in your cheek, making you giggle like a teenager.
“Angel,” He called your attention, his eyes looking nervous. Your mind raced as you waited for him to find the words he wanted to say.
Maybe he was about to say it was a mistake. Maybe he had a girlfriend he hadn’t told you about. Maybe he was trying to kick you out.
Thought after thought flooded your mind until he spoke.
“I’m sorry.”
His words took you by surprise.
“I��“
“Wait,” he interrupted you. “I need to say this before chicken out again.”
You nodded, unsure of how you felt.
“Remember the first time we met?” He asked, a warm smile placed on his lips. You nodded again, the same smile on yours. “I don’t think I’ve told you this, but I was ready to make a move on you as soon as I saw you.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“Well, Nat kind of warned me not to try anything. I didn’t really matter anyway; if anything, it made you seem more enticing.”
He chuckled as you rolled your eyes. Bucky was always Bucky.
“Anyways, when I first got to the bar, you were with Wanda and Nat while you were doing shots with them, and Wanda said something that made you laugh, and you ended up spitting your drink all over me as I was about to introduce myself.”
The once uncomfortable moment had lost its awkwardness and was now a funny memory to you.
“I don’t blame you for not sleeping with me after that; having tequila in my eyes would really put me out of the mood too.”
He chuckled.
“It wasn’t great, but it didn’t really put me off.”
“Really?”
“Mhm.” He said as he played with your hair. “You took me to the bathroom and helped me clean my eyes on the sink, and you started to say the most outlandish shit ever.”
The cringe got in you, your body slightly retracting itself as you remembered everything you said.
“I was drunk and nervous. Besides, I thought you might sue me because Nat told me you were a law student.”
“I considered it.” He joked. “I knew I liked you from that very moment.” He whispered, almost as if he were doing it with fear. “I never met anyone that made me laugh like that; even when it felt like my eyes were melting out of their sockets, all I could do was laugh at everything you said.”
Your hand reached to his chest, trying to give him the push he needed to keep going.
“I also remember the moment I realized I loved you. Remember that fight we had at Quentin’s party?”
“Which one?”
“The one with John Walker.”
“What are you even getting angry about?” He yelled as he chased you.
You were fighting against a sea of drunk college students, and the more you fought, the more you found yourself being pushed around. You heard him behind you, calling your name, but you had no intention of hearing him. You weren’t even sure why you were so angry, but you knew that you had to get away from him.
His arm finally reached you, dragging you to the side.
“Leave me the fuck alone.”
“What the fuck is your problem?” The smell of beer hit your nostrils as soon as he spoke. It was strong—almost too strong.
You shook off his hand.
“My problem is that you supposedly left to get me a drink, and then when I go looking for you, you’re getting all cozy with Dolores, and you just forgot about me.”
He rolled his eyes.
“She stopped me to talk; what was I going to do? Ignore her?”
“Maybe. But what you don’t do is tell me you’re going to be back and disappear for forty minutes.”
“Are you mad because I didn’t come back or because I was talking to Dot?”
Dot.
What a fucking asshole.
“I don’t care who you talk to, but you don’t leave your supposedly best friend stranded like that.”
“Well, sorry for thinking that my best friend was a grown woman that could take care of herself. I didn’t know you needed me to be by your side all the time.”
He didn’t mean that. He shouldn’t have left you alone in a party this big, not when it was only the two of you out of your friend group.
“Then why the fuck you brought me here if you were just going to fuck off as soon as we got here? You’re basically the only one I know here.”
“Then go make some friends.” He should’ve stopped there. If he hadn’t been drunk, maybe he would’ve just said sorry, and you two could’ve had a good time. Unfortunately, his brain and his mouth would sometimes lose against his own stupidity. “Maybe you’ll even find someone that’ll take that stick out of your ass too.”
Your eyes watered for a second, but you were never going to let him see you cry.
“Fuck you.” You muttered before submerging yourself in the sea of people again.
You drank.
The more you drank, the angrier you got. And the angrier you got, the more you wanted to hurt him and forget.
The next time Bucky saw you, you were on top of John Walker, your mouth against his as his hands squeezed your ass.
“When I saw you with him,“ his voice faltered. “It hurt. I thought it hurt because you were with fucking John Walker and I fucking hated his guts, but it wasn’t just that. Even if you had been with a random guy I’ve never seen before, it would’ve still hurt the same.”
“Bucky…” You try to apologize, but he’s quick enough to stop you.
“I’m not saying this to make you feel bad. It’s my fault how all of this ended. If I had been honest with myself about you, then none of this would’ve happened. I have loved you for so long I’ve almost forgotten what it’s like to not love you, and now that I have finally said it, I don’t think I want to forget, even if we are not together.”
You didn’t say a word, not sure that you would be able to talk without breaking down, but when you saw his eyes, you couldn’t stop it.
“We hurt each other so much, didn’t we?” He nodded, a sad chuckle along with it.
The irony of it. Love could conquer everything, except the pain that you had caused each other.
“I’m sorry too.” You whispered. “I’m sorry for hurting you. I’m sorry for wanting to hurt you.”
His arm went over your shoulders, squeezing you tightly against him.
“I’m sorry for disappearing; I know it hurt you when I left. Steve tried to tell me, but I wouldn’t listen, but I could see he was worried.”
“It was rough.” He hesitated to answer, not wanting to make you feel worse about it.
“I’m sorry for everything.”
His lips kissed the top of your head, both of you turning to see the sunrise.
“I forgave you a long time ago.” He whispered. “Can you forgive me?”
You smiled as you squeezed his hand. “I forgave you a long time ago too.”
You didn’t say anything for a while, deciding on just taking in the view of the city that was once your home. And just like that, sitting on the floor with Bucky at your side, you finally felt your heart truly healing.
“I missed this.” He said.
“Me too.”
“We should’ve taken a cab.” He said, watching you walk uncomfortably.
“And miss the opportunity to get this fucking deliciousness? No fucking way.” You take another big bite of your bagel, squeezing it a little too hard and making the side push out the cream cheese. “Besides, we’re almost there.”
After a couple more blocks of walking, talking, and eating, you finally reach your hotel. Once you get to the steps, you hop out of the uncomfortable heels that had been punishing your feet for the whole walk, a sigh of relief so loud it made Bucky laugh.
“Well, this is my stop.” You gesture towards the building behind you.
“Yeah.”
A certain heavyness settles on both. You don’t want to say goodbye.
“I didn’t even ask you, how long are you staying for?”
“A couple of days more. I still need to catch up with everyone else.”
“Good, good.”
He’s the one to hug you first. His arms around your waist pushed you against him, the small remnants of his cologne filling your nostrils. Your arms clung on to him, clutching him in between them.
Minutes went by, and you were the first one to let go as you kissed his cheek.
“Don’t be a stranger.” You said.
You walked up the steps towards the entrance of the hotel, your mind just now processing everything that had happened that night. You never thought you would talk to him again, let alone spend a whole night with him.
It was a good night.
It was a good goodbye.
Your hand reached out to open the door to the lobby, but Bucky called your name. You turned around, not sure what he was going to say.
“Do you think you could love me one last time?”
You smiled at him. The so-ever dramatic and romantic Bucky Barnes had never changed. He laughed along with you, knowing you found him a little ridiculous.
“I’ll see you around Jamie.” You said as you turned around.
None of you were sure what was next. Maybe it was best if you stayed friends and rebuilt the relationship you both had tainted so badly. Or maybe this was a new opportunity for something that could be the best thing of your lives, or perhaps it was the last time you saw each other. Whatever it was, you were sure of one thing. You were never going to lie about your feelings again, and neither would he.
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#bucky barnes angst#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#marvel fanfiction#marvel cinematic universe#avengers fanfiction#avengers fic
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Pt. 13 - (Pseudo) Pregnancy
A/N: The only trope yee aunt Peggy will never ever write is actual pregnancy… Meanwhile cannibalism, dune-typical incest, non-con, no problem, but pregnancy is just too close to irl body horror for me, but luckily I can make up anything in the world of fiction and beat the trope into a shape of my liking 😂😌 thank you @nocturn-warrior for the spark of inspiration to pick this prompt hehe 🤭
Can be seen as part of the Night Crawler universe, I think <3
TAGS: she/her AFAB FMC, breeding kink, descriptions of pregnancy symptoms without an actual child growing in there, FMC is thin enough to see a distension of the womb, squirting, dub-con
WORD COUNT: 450
"You're whining so much today," Feyd-Rautha groans, situated warm and hard between her spread thighs.
"Yes," she grates out through clenched teeth, pushing against her husband's round shoulders with no real fight aside from the nails that scrape over his velvety skin. "I'm too full and you damn well, a-ahhh, k-know it!"
A hard jab of his cock has made a splash of wetness spatter against his hard abdomen and she burns up with shame, feeling the wet glide of skin against her already distended belly.
"Too full, sweetling?" Her insatiable husband grins black and wide, slowing his thrusts and canting his pelvis against the spot that causes her nerves to jitter and more essence to drip past the root of his cock. "I think there's room for a few more of my whelps in your warm, little womb."
Her channel spasms around his obscene girth upon that and he taunts her with laughter. His sweet wife is rotten and can't help the twitching of her needy cunt at the thought of being bred round and full by her virile husband.
All of this is just play. The na-Baron doesn't like the idea of sharing the attention of his treasured toy with a bawling, nagging, vomiting offspring. She can all but pray that it remains this way. Forced into marriage and this play of pretend, she won't allow him to force her into anything else, or their marriage will end in a bloodbath.
"Mmmh, just be still, my darling. Your husband knows what's best for you." Feyd-Rautha picks up speed, stuffing himself into her slick hole despite her indignant whines about the change of tempo. "If you don't wanna keep still, I might just strap you in next time, put you in a harness like a broodmare and stuff you so full that my seed drips down your legs."
His cock jumps against her snug walls and he lets his head fall forward, drool on his lips when he empties himself with stuttering hips, forehead pressing against his wife's. She shivers when his eyes snap open, dark and yearning beneath blonde lashes.
With every rush of seed into her body, the artificially injected cocktail of enzymes that lies dormant in her blood induces a rush of amniotic fluid into her womb. The pressure makes her groan and whine and that's also how she knows it's not real, because it happens too fast.
Feyd reaches one hand between their bodies, the one with the wedding band, and pats her belly, whispering with gravelled breath how pretty she looks, swollen with his heir and how well she carries his Harkonnen brood.
The effect lasts only a couple of days— But Feyd-Rautha fucks his wife more often than that.
FEYD TAG LIST
@nostalgichoya, @forgedfromthestars, @sweetiee-o, @missbingu, @minedofmoria
@sebastianswallows, @charmingballoon, @flower-frog, @welliah, @aoi-targaryen
@coastalcowgirl35, @esolean, @szapizzapanda, @tatertooted, @sunny747
@ughdontbeboring
#feyd rautha harkonnen#feyd rautha#feyd#feyd x reader#feyd x you#feyd x oc#feyd rautha x reader#feyd rautha x you#feyd rautha x oc#feyd imagine#feyd rautha imagine#feyd smut#feyd rautha smut#austin butler#kinktober 2024#peggysuave kinktober 2024#absurdthurst kinktober
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Man, I just finished hxh and I loved it but idk what to watch now. Hunter X Hunter was a very good show and i was pleased with how it ended,
*hxh spoilers*
but also I thought Peggy the Penguin died? I was happy he showed up, but how did he come back? and as a human? also how did gon get fatally sick? i get kinda distracted when watching stuff. But aside from that, do y'all got any good, medium-length anime shows to watch? If not, that's okay, but have i got some shows for you!
Recommended & short
Komi Can't Communicate
(show's about a high-school gal who has extreme social anxiety but aspires to make 100 friends, accompanied by her friend, Tadano) (20 something episodes)
Zom 100
(EYAS MOBIYA SO KO SOTEPO!!) (Very good show, but even better theme song) (after being stuck at a mentally exhausting job for 3 years, 21 year old akira finds himself a survivor of a zombie apocolypse and decides 'life is short and what the hell' and starts creating a bucket list of 100 things he wants to do before becoming a zombie, with his friends, Kendo, some cool bad-ass gal, and another cool badass gal but with pigtails) ( 12 episodes)
idk if I should put this on here bc its 3 seasns but its only 3 seasns so,
The Disastrous Life of Saiki K.
(wacky adventures following kusuo as he lives with his pyshic powers)
I reccomend these shows, but if y'all got any good, short, anime shows to recommend, I'd love to hear 'em!
AAAAAHHHHH
I JUST WATCHED HXH EP135 AND IT WAS SO SAAAD
(hunter x hunter spoilers below)
I ALWAYS SHIPPED KOMUGI AND MERUEM SO IT WAS SO REFRESHING TO FINALLY SEE THEM GET TOGETHER AND MERUEM'S EPIFANY KILLED MEEEE
(edited neferpitou's pronouns)
AND NEFERPITOU DIED?! THEY WAS SO CUUUTE! AND NO IM NOT A ZOOPHILE. THEIR HAIR CURL/WAVES AND SOMETHING ABOUT THEIR EYES, IS JUST... YEAH. AND I AM NOT GAY BUT IM PRETTY SURE YALL HAVE AT LEAST HAD ONE FICTIONAL CHARACTER YOU LIKED OR HAD A CRUSH ON!
#slid posting#i dont curse but i think you can use context clues to see what i meant#hunter x hunter#komugi hxh#neferpitou#meruem x komugi#meruem#pitou#hxh pitou#hxh#meruem hxh#zom 100: bucket list of the dead#zom 100 akira#komi can't communicate#tadano hitohito#the disastrous life of saiki k.#saiki kusuo#peggy hxh#anime
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November 2024 MTH fills
The best way to see all the fills that have been shared with us is our monthly roundups tag or our #MTH-fills channel on our Discord, but you can also view them through the following methods:
Our Tumblr tags: 2018, 2019, 2020, 2021, 2022, 2023, 2024
Our AO3 collection (only has works posted to AO3; see "subcollections" for specific auction years)
Completed works tag list
To find specific content, use our completed works tag lists above which includes instructions on how to search for a particular character, gen or romantic relationship, universe, and fanwork type.
SOLO CHARACTERS
Bucky Barnes
deleronicas/@yourheartswerethesame - MCU Bucky fanvid set to "The Apparition" by Sleep Token for @theeternalghost
RoseRose/@tehroserose - "Wakandan Goat Therapy" (a set of haiku about Bucky in Wakanda with goats) for @sofreakinmanyfandoms
Foggy Nelson
thelonebamf/@amazing-spiderling - Custom 616 Foggy toploader for @pomegranate-belle
Frank Castle
thelonebamf/amazing-spiderling - Custom 616 Frank Castle toploader for castlesprincess
Ikari
thelonebamf/amazing-spiderling - Custom 616 Ikari toploader for pomegranate-belle
JARVIS
Kerr Avonsen - JARVIS-themed infinity scarf in shades of electric blue, turquoise, and teal for @airas-story
Jessica Jones
thelonebamf/amazing-spiderling - Custom manga-style Jessica Jones toploader for @castlesprincess
Matt Murdock
@deehellcat - Crochet doll of a smiling Matt in his Daredevil costume, holding his billy clubs/batons for @rufferto9's friend
thelonebamf/amazing-spiderling - Custom Earth-65 Matt toploader for pomegranate-belle - Custom 616 Matt toploader for castlesprincess
Miguel O'Hara
@caiabresebun - Art of chibi cat Miguel in his suit huffily swiping at a mouse for Phoenixx - Art of angry and sad chibi cat Miguel sitting near spilled coffee for @t0nystark1er
Ororo Munroe
thelonebamf/amazing-spiderling - Custom 616 Ororo toploader for pomegranate-belle
Scott Summers
Jason K Jones/@jkjones21 - Art of Scott in his X-Men '97 outfit costume fighting Sentinels for @oerbally
Stephen Strange
DeeHellcat - Crochet Dr. Strange dragon for RoseRose
GEN/PLATONIC RELATIONSHIPS
Alpine & Bucky Barnes
RoseRose/tehroserose - "Bucky and Alpine" (a sonnet about Bucky and Alpine) for sofreakinmanyfandoms
Bruce Banner & Nick Fury & Steve Rogers & Thor & Tony Stark
Lalaith Quetzalli/@lalaithquetzallicaresi - Fic cover of Bruce, Fury, Steve, Thor, and Tony plushies for "The Plushyverse" for @noxelementalist
Bucky Barnes & Yelena Belova
Vostok/@vostok3-ka - "Пачка сигарет by KИNO" (MCU Bucky & Yelena go on a post-Soviet Russian winter holiday trip, adrift and grieving Natasha) for Snooze
Dum-E & Tony Stark
HT/@hundredthousands-art & KandiSheek/@kandisheek-art - MCU art by HT of Dum-E handing Tony a bag of ice for his bruise and coming over when Bucky and Tony are hugging, animated by Kandi for @massivespacewren, @soliloquent-stark, @iseult-1124, @otpcutie, @whinysteve, @polizwrites, and @dracusfyre
Jeff the Land Shark & Matt Murdock
thelonebamf/amazing-spiderling - Custom 616 Jeff & Matt toploader for pomegranate-belle
Jubilation Lee & Logan
@tiffycat - Art of a happy Jubilee elbowing Logan, who's looking fondly at her for @twentyghosts
Peggy Carter & Sharon Carter & Steve Rogers
Lalaith Quetzalli/lalaithquetzallicaresi - Fic cover of Sharon, older Peggy, and Steve on a motorcycle for "You've got my number" for noxelementalist
Remy LeBeau & Jubilation Lee
c_art - Handpainted clock featuring Remy and Jubilee showing off their sparkly powers for @ruquas (also on Tumblr)
SHIPS
Agatha Harkness/Rio Vidal
yeahitshowed/@tadpoleeater - "real hot ghoul shit" (post-Agatha All Along Agatha/Rio fic where a ghostly Agatha decides to give into Rio's pursuit and Rio swears that she's finally done with the pursuing) for @kayedium-writes
Bucky Barnes/Clint Barton/Jason Todd
@carcrash429 - Podfic of "Parade," a Bucky/Clint/Jason Todd AU fic by ClaraxBarton where Clint meets Bucky and Jason while housesitting for Nat for @esoxwrites
Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers
Hermit/@hermit-writes - Typesetting for "Backhoe," a non-powered Steve/Bucky AU for @zenaidamacrouras1
SucculentHyena/@succulent-hyena - "Heart's Devour" (MCU Bucky/Steve body horror fic where Steve comes out of the Vita-Ray chamber wrong) for @bulkyphrase
Bucky Barnes/Tony Stark
DeeHellcat - Hand-knitted fingerless gloves inspired by Bucky's metal arm and Tony's gauntlet for @coralreefpool
Golden_Asp - "Murder and Baseball" (canon-divergent MCU Bucky/Tony AU fic where Hydra sends the Winter Soldier to win a date with Tony, kidnap him, and bring him back for conditioning—a plan that goes awry) for massivespacewren (MTH 2022)
HT/hundredthousands-art - Art of MCU Bucky with a knife and Tony with a gauntlet, ready to fight for massivespacewren, soliloquent-stark, iseult-1124, otpcutie, whinysteve, polizwrites, dracusfyre, and rufferto9
HT/hundredthousands-art & KandiSheek/kandisheek-art - MCU Bucky/Tony art by HT of Bucky handing Tony a towel for his bloody cheek and then hugging him, animated by Kandi for massivespacewren, soliloquent-stark, iseult-1124, otpcutie, whinysteve, polizwrites, and dracusfyre
@tikiwhip - 616/MCU Bucky/Tony comic where fugitive Bucky visits Tony whom he's in a secret relationship with for massivespacewren (MTH 2023)
Clint Barton/Loki/Natasha Romanov
Eustacia Vye/@eustaciavye28 - "Midst of Death" (MCU Clint/Loki/Natasha fic where Loki is recovering from extending himself past the geas placed on him) for wanderingflame
Logan/Wade Wilson
@panties-on-boys - "Play Fight" (MCU/X-Men universe Logan/Wade fic where Logan goes soft on Wade after learning Wade's in constant pain, but Wade still wants to play dirty) for Rayne
Steve Rogers/Howard Stark
Jeniouis - "The Moments In Between" (MCU 1940s fic of Steve and Howard sharing quiet, secret moments alone) for @ladygigiart
Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Becci_chan/@becci-chan - "Assembling New Beginnings" (Steve/Tony non-powered IKEA meet-cute AU fic) for @captainneverever (MTH 2023)
Bee42/@bumble-bee42 - Two illustrations of 616 Tony flying with a besotted Steve in his arms for @oluka
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Username Song Game!
thank you for the tag beloved mutual @bigbadvv0lf 🫶🏻
Rules: pick one song for each letter in your url and then that many people
feels like i’m playing on hard mode with how long this ended up being lolol
L - Lovesong by The Cure
A - A Lonely Night by The Weeknd
N - NEW MAGIC WAND by Tyler, The Creator
A - A Mistake by Fiona Apple
B - Beware by Deftones
E - Ease by Whirr
N - No Sex by Chris Rock
I - (It Goes Like) Nanana by Peggy Gou
K - King Kunta by Kendrick Lamar
O - O Children by Nick & The Bad Seeds
S - Sunday by The Cranberries
D - Do For Love by 2pac
O - Oh Sheit it’s X by Thundercat
O - orange show speedway by Lizzy McAlpine
R - Red Wine Supernova by Chappell Roan
M - Mask Off by Future
A - Alright by Kendrick Lamar
T - Twilight by bôa
No pressure tags for anyone who sees this! But also for.. @damn-it-a-side-blog @shanaraharlyah @rubensmuse @firebird-legacy @zaolan @melsilurian @rypnami @sithcom @scarecrowwizard @stormbreaker101 and literally everyone else i love my moots and followers
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💝 WAR IS OVER! :)
WIO #008 ★ (it goes like) nanana by Peggy Gou & @lelapinphilosophe
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I Won’t Watch You Die
Summary: AU one shot. Bucky and Steve, caught during a bank robbery are given the opportunity to become part of a special unit for the Strategic Scientific Reserve, formed to fight HYDRA. Bucky’s wife is happy they aren’t in jail but she has her own fears of what could happen to her husband.
Length: 7.1 K
Characters: Bucky Barnes, named OFC, Steve Rogers. Brief cameo by General Phillips, Dr. Erskine, Agent Peggy Carter, Bruce Banner and Sam Wilson.
Warnings: Minors DNI - brief scene containing mild sexual content which may be unsuitable for underage readers. OFC worrying about Bucky, OFC seeming a little bitchy due to stress, economic circumstances making life difficult for working class, heartbreak.
Author notes: This AU is set in the early 1940s, after the United States have entered the war. The Depression lasted longer in this universe, affecting many more people, including Bucky's family who lost their house when his dad was injured at the shipyard. After getting laid off himself, Bucky and Steve turned to bank robbery, hoping to use the money to help as many families as possible in their neighbourhood survive until the war economy takes root. Steve's mother is still alive but is not doing well. The opening scenes are inspired by the film Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. The dialogue (marked with *) in the bedroom disrobing scene is taken from the film and was written by William Goldman. The title is also a line from the movie but is used in a different context here.
Brooklyn, spring 1943
It had been a long ride on the subway back to Brooklyn and the young teacher was tired. Etta stayed at the school to finish marking assignments, not wanting to bring them home over spring break. By the time she got to her stop the sun was almost set and it looked like there might be a late spring snowstorm. Drawing her thin coat around her, Etta exited the car at the elevated station and stepped carefully down the stairs exiting out the gate at the bottom. The wind came up, biting through her clothing, even as she wrapped her arms around her, trying to protect her gloveless hands from the elements. There was nothing she could do about the bare legs, having torn her last pair of stockings the week before. With rationing because of the war limiting the supply she hoped that warmer spring weather would come soon.
Finally reaching the row of brownstones that had been converted from single family homes to flats, she went up the stone steps, then in through the front door, stopping to open her mailbox and collect her mail. Quickly, she flipped through them, grimacing at the number of bills there were. The afternoon newspaper was also there, and she briefly read the headline about the latest bank robbery, blamed on two local men she knew well. Folding it back up she tucked the mail and paper under her arm and went up the three flights of stairs to her one-bedroom flat, unlocking the door and closing it then turning on the kitchen light. The bundle of papers was placed on the kitchen table. Her coat came off, followed by her shoes, then she slipped her cold feet into her slippers left by the door. It was chilly in the flat, and she opened the coal fireplace in the parlour, tossing several pieces into the burner, then a few lit matches, hoping it would catch. As she walked towards her bedroom she unbuttoned her sweater, taking it off in the room lit from the light spilling in from the kitchen. Hanging it up in the wardrobe she turned around, startled to see a man sitting in a chair beside her bed. His face was obscured but he was big, based on the shadowy outline of his figure.
"Keep going teacher lady*," said the man, glancing at a gun on the table beside him, then focusing his eyes on her. "It's okay, don't mind me. Keep on going.*"
She froze until he turned on the bedside lamp, picked up the gun and held it. Slowly, she undid the buttons on her dress, and slipped it off over her shoulders, letting it drop onto the floor. A loud breath escaped through his nostrils as he gazed hungrily upon her in her slip.
"Let down your hair*," he ordered.
She undid the pins that held her hair up and it fell loosely around her shoulders.
"Shake your head*," was his next command, letting out an almost obscene sound at the sight of her doing that. "Uhh*."
He gestured with the hand that had the gun in it, towards her slip, wordlessly suggesting it come off. The dark-haired woman didn't move fast enough, and he cocked the gun. Slipping those straps off she let them slide off her shoulders, then stepped out of the slip, before holding it against her bare chest. He uncocked the gun and stood up, leaving it on the table beside the chair. Pulling his suspenders down, he stepped slowly towards her, keeping his blue eyes focused on hers. Taking the slip in his hands, he tossed it aside, and gently placed his hands on her ribcage before sliding them up to cup her soft, round breasts in the dim light that came through the doorway.
"You know what I wish?*" she asked before he did anything else.
"What?*" he smirked.
"That for once, you'd get here on time*," she answered, emotionally, throwing her arms around him and kissing him, frantically. "Where the hell have you been, Bucky?"
"I'm sorry, baby," he whispered, as her hands unbuttoned his shirt, almost ripping it off his body. "We got here as soon as we could."
She stiffened when she heard the word "we."
"Steve?" she asked. "Where is he?"
"He made himself scarce so we could be alone," answered Bucky, leading her over to the brass bed, covered in the quilt her grandmother made.
Pulling back the quilt he laid her down in the crisp, white bedsheets, unable to take his eyes off her. He quickly undressed, eager to join Etta in bed after not being with her for so long.
"I missed you," he whispered as he buried his face in her neck, taking in the smell of Ivory soap that she used for bathing. "You smell so good."
"You don't," she retorted. "When was the last time you had a bath?"
He shrugged, then raised his head so he could look at her face. "We haven't exactly been living in the best accommodations, sweetheart. Haven't eaten since yesterday, either."
"You gave it all away again, didn't you?" asked Etta, looking carefully at him. "Bucky, you have to keep a little to survive. What about Steve's medicines?"
"I keep enough for those," he answered. "But people aren't doin' well and with the war and rationing, it's hard. I can't keep money when I know there's a family that hasn't eaten in two days because their daddy got hurt on the docks. It's what happened to my dad, and they lost the house. I can manage."
She wanted to cry at how this man she loved so much had turned to robbing banks and passing on the money to people in need, hardly keeping any for himself. A tear must have escaped because Bucky kissed her cheek gently.
"I should be mad at you," she whispered. "Putting yourself in this kind of trouble for people you barely know."
"But you love me, don't you?"
"You wish."
His lopsided smile made her heart flip, then he pressed himself into her, making her whimper.
"Say it," he murmured. "Please."
It took several more attempts of him kissing Etta before she relented.
"I love you," she answered, looking up at him, as she accepted the full weight of his muscular body on hers.
"Damn, I love you," he groaned as he thrust into her.
For the next half hour, there was no banter or talking about his profession. He just wanted to touch her and feel her body react to his, bringing both to the brink of bliss before he pulled out early, not wanting to add a pregnancy that would get Etta fired from her job. Immediately, he helped her come, knowing she needed it. Taking a handkerchief out of his trouser pockets, he cleaned her up, then slid his arm under her head, kissing her on her temple. They laid like that for a while, until she sat up a little, to look out the window behind the head of the bed. With a sigh, she waved at someone outside, then she put her slip on and robe over top of it.
"I'm letting Steve in," she said. "He looks miserable out there. I'll start boiling water for you two to have a bath. Then you change into clean clothes so I can wash those ones. In the meantime, make yourself useful and start something up for supper. I have some pork chops that you can fry up and leftover potatoes. There might still be a good onion as well."
Bucky sat up and grabbed her hand as she came around from her side of the bed, kissing it.
"You're too good for me, Etta."
"I know," she smiled, then she cupped his face with the hand. "You're too handsome to say no to."
After unlocking her door and leaving it slightly ajar, she looked for her biggest pot and filled it with water, then placed it on the biggest burner of the gas stove in the kitchen, turning it up high. She heard the door open and went to the hallway.
"Thanks, Etta," said Steve, Bucky's best friend, as he took his wet shoes off and unwound the scarf from around his neck. "I tried to sit in a diner with a nickel coffee, but they told me unless I ordered some food I couldn't stay. There was a lineup of soldiers and sailors waiting to get in. I guess a bunch are shipping out tomorrow."
"Yeah, they're shipping out every day," she answered. "Go sit by the fireplace in the parlour and warm up. I've put some water on to boil for you and Bucky to have a bath. He's going to start supper, if you want to help him. I'll get the washtub ready."
"Etta?" She stopped to look at the thin, sickly man, his eyes seeming too big for his face. "Have you seen my ma?"
She thought for a moment, as if she was trying to word things right.
"Yes. She's in the parish poor house but she doesn't look good. I don't think she's going to last much longer, Steve. She said not to try to see her. If you do, they'll arrest you."
He swallowed and nodded his head, looking ashamed for a moment. She squeezed his shoulder then left to pull the washtub out from where it was positioned in the pantry. A pantry that had barely any food in it. When she returned to the kitchen, a fully dressed Bucky had the pork chops on and was chopping the onion and potatoes up. He took over when Etta tried to lift the big pot, carrying it to the pantry and pouring it into the tub. Then he filled it up again and put it on the burner for the next one. Four pots would give him enough to have a shallow bath. Etta could pour a smaller pot of warm water over his head to rinse after he washed his hair. Then he would help Steve as he was too shy to have Etta see him naked. Finally, they would start another batch of water boiling to wash their clothes. Privately, Bucky was afraid they would fall apart in the harsh laundry soap as it had been a while since either he or Steve changed them. Another pot of boiling water was poured into the washtub before the meal was ready and they sat down together.
Etta took only a small amount of food, giving Bucky the bigger portion and Steve more than hers. Both men ate hungrily, and she opened the ice box, finding the cake that one of her students brought her earlier that week, a boiled raisin cake. She cut a generous piece for each man, then sat back and watched them eat. Steve couldn't finish his, pushing it towards her, so she obliged him and ate the rest. Unable to afford coffee, they drank water. Bucky pushed his chair back and patted his stomach.
"Etta, that was excellent," he said. "A feast fit for a king."
"You cooked most of it," she replied drily, then stood up to take the dishes to the sink.
Bucky pulled her into his lap and wrapped his arms around her, kissing her neck until she laughed. Winking at Steve, he tickled her a little until she almost screamed and pulled herself away from him. She went to the bathroom to relieve herself, then stood in front of the sink, looking at herself before she washed her hands in the cold water. A slight knock got her attention, and she opened the door to Bucky.
"You okay, sweetheart?" he asked. "Did I hurt you?"
"No, I'm fine," she smiled. "I had to go, that's all."
"The water's ready for me to have my bath," he said. "Do you want some hot water in the sink to clean yourself up?"
She nodded, and he kissed her, then left her there, coming back with a smaller pot of hot water from the washtub, pouring it into the sink. Returning to her bedroom, she got her nightgown and brought it back. Then she gave herself a sponge bath, cleaning what she could before drying off and putting her nightgown, then her robe on. Emptying the sink, she rinsed it with cold water. The sound of Bucky singing That Old Black Magic reached her ears and she came out to the kitchen where Steve was cleaning up, using a smaller pot to heat water for the dishes.
"Thanks, Steve," she said.
"Least I could do. We did eat your food."
Bucky was singing again, and they smiled at each other. When the water in the bigger pot was warm, she took some of it, carrying the water to the pantry where Bucky sat in the bath water, cleaning his armpits.
"Have you washed your hair yet?" she asked.
"Not yet," he said, squeezing the washcloth over his head, then scrubbing it with the Ivory Soap bar.
He squeezed his eyes shut as he did then nodded his head. Etta slowly poured the clean water over him, rinsing off the lather as Bucky ran his hands through his hair. When the last of the water was poured, he wiped his face with his hands, then gingerly opened his eyes before smiling at her.
"Hi darling. I smell better now."
She looked at the dirty water in the tub and shook her head at how filthy it was.
"Try not to spill any on the floor when you hook up the hose to drain it. Make sure you rinse it before putting clean water in."
He saluted and she returned to the kitchen to top up the water that was taken from the big pot. Steve was drying the dishes and putting them into the cupboard, standing on his tiptoes to reach the one shelf. Bucky came out wrapped in a towel and kissed Etta on his way to the bedroom, to change into clean clothes that they left with her. He brought Steve's clean clothes and a towel with him, placing them in the pantry room. As they waited for the water to boil in the big pot, he glanced at Etta's mail and flipped through the envelopes, frowning, as he opened them.
"Sweetheart, this one is marked final notice," he said, holding up a bill from the electrical company.
"They raised the rates," she replied. "I managed at the old rates, but I fell behind with the new ones. I figured if I could push it towards summer before they turn off the electricity I can manage with candles for a while. I can save up enough to pay the difference."
"What about the cancellation fees and the hookup fees?" he asked, visibly upset. "They're nickel and diming people into losing their power now. Where does it stop?"
"Don't yell at me," she answered. "It's been hard managing. I've been giving your ma money to tide them over. My own mother isn't doing well. I'm doing the best I can."
"Sweetheart, I'm not angry at you," he said soothingly, wrapping his arms around her, as Steve left to give them privacy. "I'm just angry that people are hurting, and they keep adding costs onto everything. What will they do when everyone is either homeless or in the poor house? It can't go on like this. Why isn't the government helping people more instead of putting us into a war across the ocean?"
"You know why," she stated. "They have to stop Hitler, Bucky. If they don't, he'll be here next."
"I know," he answered, shaking his head. "It just gets to me."
The water on the stove was almost boiling and Bucky carried it to the washtub, then set another pot of water to boil. Nothing more was said about the bills but when Etta went into the bedroom, he pulled Steve aside.
"We need to hit another bank," he said. "She's stretched too thin, and I don't want her to lose her flat because she's been helping my family while I haven't been around. I wish I knew about this sooner."
"She's a good woman," replied Steve. "You should marry her."
"I plan to." The dark-haired man ran his hand through his thick hair. "One more bank job to help her and our families then that's it. I'll enlist in the army. It pays well and should be enough to help her and my parents out. They can afford a three-bedroom apartment with steam heat and hot water on army pay, and live together. With my pay and hers they'll do alright. Maybe you can get on at a grocer's and take over this place. You might be able to bring your ma to live with you."
"Sounds like a plan." Steve looked to the bedroom. "You should go to her. I'll call you when the water is hot."
Bucky entered the bedroom to find Etta lying on top of the bed. By the quiet sniffles he heard she was crying. Sliding next to her, he rubbed her arm and kissed her shoulder.
"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I should have realized you've been taking care of our folks while we've been away. You're a good woman Etta and I'm a better man because of you."
She rolled towards him, wiping her eyes.
"It's hard managing three sets of parents," she murmured. "They worry about you."
"I know." He cleared his throat. "I'm going to enlist in the army, then I want us to get married. With my army pay and your teacher pay, you can afford a better apartment; one big enough for you and my parents and sister. Steve will try to get a job as more fellas are getting shipped out. He can take over this flat and maybe bring his ma to live with him."
"Don't go getting all romantic on me, Barnes," grinned Etta, then her face became serious. "You'd do that?"
He nodded. "For you, anything. I'll go tomorrow and look into it. Will you marry me?"
"Yes, I will." He kissed her, drawing her close into his body, inhaling the scent of Ivory Soap on both of them, thinking he never smelled anything so good as that.
Steve called from the kitchen that the water was hot enough and he left her in the bed, going out to put it in the washtub. One more pot should do it, since Steve was a smaller guy, and he would need some cold water in there because of his health. A little while later as Bucky sat reading the paper while Steve bathed, he thought about his decision, knowing it was the right one. All they needed now was the right bank for this last robbery. With enough money to get a good apartment for everyone, he'd be ready to serve his country. What could go wrong?
Six months later
It was warm at the docks, as Bucky and Etta were saying their goodbyes. So much had changed since he decided on that one last bank job. When he and Steve didn't even get the chance to pull their guns out, he knew something was wrong. It was like the police already knew their plans as they streamed out of the bank's offices with their guns drawn and trained on the pair. Ordered to surrender or be shot down, both men complied. After they were cuffed and placed into the paddy wagon, they weren't even taken to the precinct. Instead, they were taken to Fort Hamilton, the army base at the south end of Brooklyn. There, they joined five other men in the stockade, until a man in an army uniform introduced himself and his companions when they entered the room, Colonel Phillips, a Dr. Erskine, and a British woman, Agent Carter with the Strategic Scientific Reserve, or SSR.
As she read the name and offence committed by each man in that cell from a file folder she carried in her hands, Bucky realized that they had been under surveillance for a long time. Each man, Dugan, Dernier, Falsworth, Jones, and Morita, had skills that the SSR wanted to utilize. When she got to Bucky, the Colonel looked him up and down.
"Well, he looks fit at least. What skills does he bring to this unit?"
The woman smiled. "He regularly wins prizes at the shooting galleries at Coney Island and Rockaway Beach. Those rifles are rigged but he manages to quickly assess how they have been adjusted and can instantly change his aim. I thought he could be the marksman for the group."
How did they know he always cleaned up at those shooting galleries? How long had they been watching him? The Colonel grunted then moved on to look at Steve.
"How old are you son?"
"23," he answered. "What do you want of us?"
"I chose young Steven," said Dr. Erskine, his thick German accent surprising all of them. "He is 4F, but that hasn't stopped him from trying to enlist five times at five different recruiting stations under five different names."
Steve felt his cheeks go hot, as Bucky glared at him. The younger man's desire to enlist had been a source of contention between the two men for some time. Erskine continued.
"I think he is the perfect subject for the project. He's not already a killer; the fact the guns these two used were unloaded and they've never hurt anyone during their robberies proves it. He tries to help people, as shown by them sharing the stolen money with people in dire need, and he has an artistic soul. All of them an indication of a good man, limited only by his physical disabilities."
The Colonel grunted then nodded his head and stood tall in front of the cell.
"You all have a chance to serve your countries, gentlemen, and I do mean your country for I know two of you are not citizens here. You will be part of a special commando unit in the Strategic Scientific Reserve. You're going to undergo six months of training, then we're going to send you on a special mission to fight a special type of Nazi."
"What if we say no?" asked Bucky.
"Then you go back to the police and wend your way through the criminal justice system. In your case, even though your guns were unloaded, it's still considered armed robbery. With the number of successful heists you pulled off, you're looking at life imprisonment."
The seven men looked at each other then all verbally agreed to join the special unit. They really didn't have much choice.
In the six months since then much had changed for all of them as they underwent a gruelling training regimen that turned them all into exceptional soldiers. Except Steve, who only trained with them sometimes and even then wasn't expected to achieve what they did physically. He was undergoing some different training that he was sworn to secrecy about, even from the others, admitting it was a special project that was expected to change the shape of warfare forever. While the others were being sent to Europe to be imbedded with a regiment, Steve would be staying behind for a time before he joined them. Today was the day that Bucky and the others were shipping out.
Allowed to marry Etta on one of his leaves, Bucky learned on his honeymoon that his father got a desk job at the shipyards, and his family were moved to a newer three-bedroom apartment with steam heat and running hot water, with a real bathroom. Steve's ma was moved to a nice sanitarium to live out her final days in a place that was bright and warm. Etta and Bucky were offered a newer two-bedroom apartment in a nice area of Brooklyn, with all the amenities. During their honeymoon they rarely stepped foot out of that apartment.
He smiled at the memory of that week, then looked at his wife again, as they stood outside the gate where thousands of soldiers had lined up to board a former cruise ship that would take them to England. Bucky felt a pang in his heart at leaving her behind.
"I'll miss you," he murmured, holding her close enough to place his lips near her ear. "I'll write you as much as I can."
Etta smiled at him, even though inside her fears were clawing at her. "I'll miss you too and I'll write you twice as much. Promise me you'll be careful."
"I promise," he answered. "When I get back, we'll start a family."
Their kiss was long, tender, and noticed by others, who guessed they were newlyweds. Then Bucky picked up his duffel bag and checked in at the gate. He only went a short way when Etta called out to him.
"Hey Sergeant!" He turned back to look at her. "Do your duty, soldier."
"Yes ma'am!"
He saluted then joined the line, watched by Etta until she lost sight of him in that sea of green. She returned to her comfortable apartment, wondering what type of work Bucky had to do for them to warrant this kind of luxury. What had he promised them so that she and his family were taken care of so well?
🪖 🚢
Two weeks later, she received a visitor at her apartment. A strong knock drew her out of the kitchen, and she opened the door to a tall, blond, muscular man in an army uniform, who smiled at her as if they knew each other. It took her a moment to realize it was Steve and she fainted. When she came to, she was on the couch in her living room, with a cold, damp washcloth on her forehead. Taking it off, she sat up to face the man, who sat in the armchair across from the couch.
"Steve?"
"Yeah, it's me," he replied. "Before you ask, I can't tell you how I look this way. It's a national secret."
"Okay," she breathed. "Will you look like this forever?"
He smiled and nodded. "It's permanent." His face became serious. "I'm here on official business. Normally, the army sends out a telegram." Immediately, Etta could hear her heartbeat in her ears as she thought of all those fears about Bucky. "I found out this morning and received permission to give you the news directly. I already saw his parents. Bucky's MIA. In fact, the whole unit is. They were imbedded with the 107th regiment and were sent with a couple of companies on a mission. 200 men left, less than 50 returned."
"No, he just got there. Why would they send them out so soon?"
"That's just the way it was." He looked at his hands. "Did Bucky ever tell you about the commando unit and who they were training to fight?" She shook her head. "It's a special division of Nazis called HYDRA. They're worse than the SS and are up to some scary things. It's likely they were captured by this division. They're no longer where the battle was and quite frankly, they're having trouble finding where the prisoners have been taken. I'm going over by aircraft tomorrow with our command team to take over the search for them. I promise that I'll do all I can to find Bucky. With my rank, I can send my own telegrams, and I'll send one to you and to Bucky's parents as soon as I can."
"Your rank?" She looked at him, puzzled. Just a few weeks ago he was a small, sickly man who had health issues that could kill him at any moment. "What are you?"
"A captain, but not just any captain. I can't tell you anymore than that. Just know, that I can do things other men can't." He stood up. "I better go now. I still need my rest, just like any other guy."
She walked him to the door and on impulse, hugged him, surprised to find that he was very warm; the heat from his body radiating through his uniform. It was all so strange and seemed to be happening so fast.
For the next month, Etta tried to keep to a routine. With it being summer, she was off work, but she regularly visited Sarah Rogers at the sanitarium, and her in-laws, the Barnes at their apartment. She walked, read the newspapers voraciously for any word of the war, and slept poorly each night, consumed with dreams of Bucky in pain. Then one day, a knock at the door brought her a telegram and she opened it to read that Bucky, and the special unit he was in, had been rescued. There were no other details other than it would all be in the news within a day or so. That was when she found out that Steve Rogers was Captain America, the allies first super soldier, the result of a scientific experiment that gifted him with perfect health, great strength, and incredible stamina to fight against the Nazis. Single-handedly, he broke into a secret base, released the prisoners, including his own captured unit, then together destroyed the base, dealing a significant blow against the enemy. It was heady stuff, and the public ate it up. Just as they ate up the future exploits of Captain America and the Howling Commandos, the name given to that special unit. Over the next year much was written about them, and they were on the newsreels all the time.
Etta didn't care much for all that, as it just reinforced her fears for Bucky's safety. Instead, she lived for his letters, filled with love for her. She wrote back just as much; filling her letters with dried flowers from the window boxes of their apartment, drops of her perfume, and even small slivers of Ivory Soap that she shaved off and placed in the envelope, hoping that he would notice the smell and think of them, when he was still on the run.
Her fears slowly subsided until just after Christmas 1944, when she woke up screaming one morning from a dream that seemed all too real: a dream of Bucky falling. The next morning when she received Steve's telegram, she thought she would die. At Bucky's funeral with an empty coffin, she and his mother numbly received the folded flag, neither of them in a state to feel anything else. Just a few weeks later, when the newspapers reported the death of Captain America, she thought she had died and gone to hell. At his funeral, she received the flag on behalf of his mother, who was too ill to attend. After giving it to her in the sanitarium she wasn't surprised when Sarah Rogers died a day later, clutching the flag that represented her only child. It was all too much for the young woman and she took a leave of absence from her teaching job, sitting alone in her apartment, not eating or drinking; not wanting to live in a world without Bucky.
⏳ ⌛️
"Etta," said a voice, a familiar voice but one that shouldn't even exist anymore.
She opened her eyes and screamed, before a hand was placed gently on her mouth, then removed.
"Steve?"
He was older, and wearing a blue suit of some kind, like the one he wore as Captain America, but it was different.
"Yeah, it's me. Get dressed. We don't have much time."
"You're dead."
"No, it was thought I was but it's too hard to explain and will take too long. Do you trust me?" She nodded. "Just get dressed. Wear trousers. I'll wait in the living room."
Quickly, she rose and put some clothes on, then brushed her hair and came out to see him standing in front of the window. He turned around quickly and smiled at her, then took something out of his pocket.
"Put this on." He slipped a strange device on her hand, then took her other hand in his. "Ready?"
"Wait, where are you taking me?"
"To Bucky," he smiled, then pressed a button on the device.
She held her breath as some sort of suit grew out of the device, encasing her body so quickly that she couldn't believe it. Then there was a flash, darkness, then another flash and the suit disappeared as quickly as it was created. She was outside, amongst a group of trees, near a lake. A man with long hair and a beard turned swiftly around, his eyes exactly like Bucky's.
"Etta," he whispered, then enclosed her in a noticeably warm hug, his face pressed into her hair. "It worked."
She pulled away and looked at this man with Bucky's eyes and voice.
"I don't understand," she stammered. "You died. Both of you died. You left me alone but you're here, wherever this is and you're alive. Is this heaven?"
"Upstate New York," said another voice and she looked towards it only to be startled by the appearance of a green skinned giant wearing glasses. "It's okay. I won't hurt you. I'm Bruce and you're very much in upstate New York. It's 2023 and you've come through time."
It was all too much for Etta and for the second time in her life, she fainted, aware only of someone saying to catch her before she fell. When she woke up, it was on a blanket, next to the lake she remembered seeing on her arrival. The sun was peeking through the trees with a slight breeze making the remaining gold and orange leaves rustle. It was autumn, she realized. It had been winter in New York when Steve appeared in the apartment. Three men sat nearby, talking quietly, then one turned around.
"Your wife is awake, Bucky," he said, standing up and approaching her. "Hi, I'm Sam. I’m a friend of Steve and Bucky. How do you feel?"
"Confused," she admitted. "What the green man said about it being 2023. Is that true?"
"Yeah," he smiled. "Kind of overwhelming, isn't it? These two didn't help matters but Steve really didn't have the time to explain. Bucky should have at least cut his hair and shaved for you so that he was more of a familiar face." His face grew serious, and he glanced back at where Steve and Bucky stood, giving her some space. "Steve had to go back in time to fulfill a promise made. Bucky asked if someone could be brought forward. He's been through a lot and well, he thought if you were here with him, it would make it easier for him to adjust. It won't be easy for you as there's almost 80 years of life for you to catch up on but together, I think you can do it, and you won't be alone. There's a few of us here that will help you both."
Acknowledging his words, Etta began to stand, accepting Sam's help up, then he walked away, followed by Steve, leaving her and Bucky alone. She studied her husband’s face, seeing lines on it that hadn't been there before. He wore black, which he never wore before and he had gloves on, which was strange because it wasn't cold.
"Come, sit," he said, gesturing to a bench that overlooked the lake. "There's so much to tell you."
"Start with why you aren't dead."
He smiled. Etta always was blunt. It was one of the things he missed about her.
"Everyone thought I was, as I fell a long way. But they didn't know that when I was a prisoner of HYDRA for that month when I was MIA that they did something to me that changed me. They were trying to turn me into a super soldier like Steve. I survived the fall, but HYDRA found me and took me back to their lab to finish the job. They didn't just turn me into a super soldier, they erased Bucky Barnes, and turned me into a killer, a weapon to do their bidding. It took them years because I fought them as hard as I could but, in the end, they made me into someone called the Winter Soldier. I killed many people for them, Etta. They kept me alive, freezing me then unfreezing when they wanted me to kill. It's why I haven't aged much."
She gazed steadily at him, seeing the regret that was engraved on his face and in his eyes. Yes, he had been a killer, but he wasn't anymore. Somehow, he got away.
"Why is Steve still alive?"
"He didn't die either, but no one knew that. He deliberately crashed that plane full of bombs in the Arctic then he was frozen in the ice but the serum he got that changed him into a super soldier kept him alive, just enough that when he was found in 2011, they were able to thaw him, and he woke up. He became Captain America in the 21st century and fought against HYDRA again, as they never really went away because what I did helped them to become dangerous again."
Etta didn't have to say it, but she did, wanting a straight answer. She was always smart at reading between the lines. It was something Bucky loved about her.
"They sent you after him, didn't they?"
Bucky nodded. "I was sent to kill him and that's when he found out I was still alive. He called me by my name and there wasn't a big flash of understanding or anything like that but more like an unraveling of all that they did to me. It took some time, and I was sent to kill him again and I almost did. I swear, I wanted to bash his face in and shut him up because he kept calling me Bucky. Then I saw him in my mind, as he was then. The little guy, who was always sick, his face bloody from being beaten up, and me coming to help him. That was the beginning, and I didn't kill him. He and his new team were able to stop HYDRA, and I went underground until he found me again and we ended up in the biggest fight of our life against someone more dangerous than HYDRA had ever been. They needed time travel to do it and when some things had to go back to their time, I asked about bringing you forward."
She was full of questions and rattled them off one after another.
"Why not your parents or Rebecca? Why me? I'm not sure I can live in a future where everything is so strange. I mean a real green giant and time travel. What else has changed in all those years? If I don't fit in, can I go back?"
"It was better my parents didn't find out what I became. Rebecca's still alive and I couldn't bring her younger version forward. It had to be you. You're my wife." He swallowed and his eyes became glassy as he looked out over the lake. When he spoke again, his voice was wavering. "You died, Etta. Steve found your grave; you were buried next to my empty coffin. Your date of death was February 5, 1945. He looked up in the newspapers how you died ... you killed yourself." The tears began falling down his cheek. "I can't send you back because I won't watch you die, Etta. Please, stay here in the future with me. Don't make me face life without you, not when we can be together again."
He reached into his pocket for a handkerchief, wiping his eyes. Noticing the gloves on his hands again, Etta took his one hand in hers.
"Why are you wearing gloves on a warm day? What aren't you telling me?"
He swallowed noticeably again, then took the glove off his right hand. It looked normal and she caressed it, then interlaced her fingers with his. With her right hand she reached for his left and tugged on the glove. When it came off a metal hand was revealed, black with gold markings. She looked up at him for an explanation.
"I lost my arm in the fall and HYDRA gave me a new one, a monstrous thing that was used to deliver death and destruction. It was eventually destroyed and a kind king in a country with incredible technology designed a new one. It's still metal but I can feel with it, and it's meant to be as close to a real arm as possible. It wasn't designed to hurt or kill. I'll show you all of it when we're alone, but it is different and may take some getting used to. It's why I can't go back."
They sat without talking for some time, but she didn't pull her hand out of his.
"What do they do for work in the 21st century?"
"A lot of the same. I'll be part of Steve's team, called the Avengers. They kind of protect the whole world from evil."
"No more bank robberies?"
Bucky smirked. "No more bank robberies."
"I should still be mad at you," she whispered. "Putting yourself in this kind of trouble for people you barely know."
"But you love me, don't you?"
"You wish."
His lopsided smile made her heart flip like it always did, then he pressed his lips onto hers, making her whimper.
"Say it," he murmured. "Please."
It took several more attempts of him kissing Etta before she relented.
"I love you," she answered. "I'll stay."
"I love you, too," he cried, kissing her all over her face before he grasped it in his hands. "We'll have a nice place to live, and we can start a family, if you want. I know I'm older now but inside I'm still the young man you married at City Hall." His eyes searched her face. "We just have to find Steve a girlfriend."
"I heard that," said Steve, still talking to Sam a fair distance away. "I can find my own girl."
"Yeah, you've been in this century how long and you're still single," answered Bucky, standing up and pulling Etta with him. "Face it, you need our help."
As the two men bantered back and forth, Etta made eye contact with Sam, who grinned at her. Apparently, Steve was just as hopeless with romance now, as he had been in the 1940s. She wasn't sure how well she would adjust but having her husband and his best friend back in her life was better than good. It just felt right, as if it were how it always was and would always be.
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