#sharon carter one-shot

[aquaticmercy]

The Great Wave

Summary : Bucky would do anything to make his girl happy. He would even risk his life to get you the perfect gift.

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x reader (she/her) 

Warnings/tags : fluff. A bit of violence. Established relationship. Bucky is just so in love???

Requested by : myself (I have a couple ideas I have to burn before I move on to the requests. I will get to them soon, I promise!)

Word count : 2.1k

Note : Reader is an art enthusiast for the sake of the plot. Enjoy!

Requests are open!

○ buy me a ko-fi ○

Bucky had always been good at listening, even when you didn’t realise you were saying something important. He’d tune in while you rambled about your day, his eyes softening when you went on and on about something that made you happy. That was how he came to understand just how much you adored art. Lately, your latest obsession was art prints. One of them, in particular. 

The Great Wave off Kanagawa.

It started with your subtle mentions, then turned into hours of research and giddy excitement as you told Bucky about its significance in art history. “It’s not just the wave, Bucky,” you’d try to explain, “it’s the effort. Woodblock print artists had to carve wooden blocks one by one, for each colour used. The precision, the patience this requires is incredible.” you’d say, eyes wide with passion. “The focus is actually on Mount Fuji, which was a personal spiritual obsession of the artist— Hokusai. He was like the Beyoncé of the Edo period.” 

Bucky, ever the silent, brooding observer, stored every detail away in his mind. 

You had admired the prints in museums, dragging Bucky there with you. Once, when you had visited a small art gallery, you had found a reproduction of it. Bucky remembered how your fingers lightly touched the frame, lingering a little longer than normal. He also remembered how you mentioned that it would make a good birthday gift.

Bucky knew he had to do something about that. In fact, Bucky knew he could do better. 

—

For the past six months, he had been looking for something so rare that it almost seemed impossible to acquire. But if anyone could help him get hands on something like that, it was Sharon Carter. 

It had taken months of planning— months of digging into Sharon’s shady art dealings, but she finally tracked one down.

Bucky had burned through a few old contacts just to arrange this. The Dealer he had found had one of only 100 copies that still existed.

Bucky now stood at the edge of the alley, his eyes scanning the dimly lit streets of Madripoor. He hated this place. The stench of greed and violence clouded every corner. Truly lawless. But for you, he’d walk through these dingy streets any day.

Sharon leaned against the wall beside him, her arms crossed. “You sure you want to go through all this trouble?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“Of course,” Bucky replied dismissively. His tone was resolute.

“You’ve gone soft, Barnes,” Sharon smiled. “Risking your neck for a gift.”

Bucky clenched his jaw, glancing at the old brown purse tucked in his jacket. Inside it was more than enough money to secure the deal, but in Madripoor, cash only got you so far. 

Briefly, his thoughts wandered back to you. Was this really worth it? Was he risking too much? You had been on his mind constantly these past few months. He has thought more and more about what you have done for him. Of how you had stood by him, as he tried to piece the puzzles of his mind back together. You’ve been a constant comfort in his life, a rock for him.

And he knew your love wasn’t transactional, and he had no intention to make it that way, either. He just wanted to do something nice. That smile... He’d do anything to see it.

But Madripoor was a different world. A dangerous one. He couldn’t afford to mess this up. Bucky shot Sharon a sidelong glance as they neared the abandoned warehouse. “I don’t trust this guy,” he muttered.

Sharon gave a knowing look. “That’s why I’m here.” She patted the concealed gun under her jacket.

There was no going back now.

—

They walked into the abandoned warehouse. The Dealer was supposed to meet them here. The place reeked of decay, with crates stacked against the walls carelessly and dust particles drifting in the air.

Not long after, a door creaked open on the other side of the warehouse. 

A tall, wiry man stepped out of the shadows. He was dressed in a sharp suit that looked entirely out of place in the decrepit building. Two bodyguards in tactical suits followed close behind him, both armed. 

“We’re here for the print,” Sharon said, her voice calm and collected. 

The Dealer smiled, but it wasn’t sincere. It didn’t reach his eyes. “Ah, the infamous Sharon Carter. I’ve heard much about you.”

“Do you have the print or not?” Sharon snapped. 

The Dealer gestured to one of his bodyguards. He stepped forward with a slim black case and opened it to reveal the print, meticulously preserved under layers of protective glass. Bucky’s heart skipped a beat. For a moment, he forgot where he was, only imagining the smile you’d have on your face when you do get to see it. 

Bucky’s grip tightened on the purse as he handed it over to the dealer. 

“There’s one more thing,” the dealer said as his tone shifted, shutting the briefcase shut. “I hear Sharon Carter here has been causing a bit of trouble for some of my associates. So… I’m thinking you’re going to have to do me a favour before I hand this over.”

“We had a deal.” Bucky’s eyes darkened. He knew Sharon had a reputation in Madripoor—one she didn’t need to remind people of often.

But the dealer just smiled an arrogant grin, one that made Bucky’s gut churn. “Deals change.”

Bucky could feel the tension in the air rising. He knew this wasn’t going to end peacefully. He noticed the subtle shift in the bodyguards’ stance, their hands starting to reach toward their guns.

“I don’t have time for this,” Bucky muttered, knowing he promised you he’d be home before tomorrow. Reaching for his gun, he shot near the handle of the briefcase, just shy of The Dealer’s grip.

That was all it took for the room to explode into chaos.

When another gunshot rang out, Bucky dove for cover behind one of the crates as bullets rained on him. Sharon shot at one of the bodyguards, taking him down with a well-placed shot to the leg.

As the deafening echo of gunfire bounced off the walls, a thought crossed his mind: Why am I doing this?

As bullet whizzed past, his mind kept going back to you. The way you looked at the print in the gallery, the way you spoke about it with such passion. He found himself chuckling at how far he’d go to make you happy.

Would you even believe it if he told you what he’s done to get this for you?

The Dealer ducked behind his own men, the briefcase in his death grip. Bucky rolled out from behind the crate. He returned fire, his shots precise. He didn't aim to kill them— he didn’t do that anymore— but enough to incapacitate them. The remaining bodyguard dropped to the ground with a grunt, clutching his wound as one of Bucky’s bullets grazed his arm. For a moment, the gunfire stopped.

Bucky straightened up, his eyes locking on The Dealer, who was now cowering near the far wall. He stormed in his direction. “Give me the print, or the next one’s between your eyes,” Bucky growled, his voice deadly calm. He didn’t mean it, of course, but The Dealer didn’t need to know that. 

The Dealer raised his hands, his face pale. “Alright, alright! Take it!”

Sharon wasted no time, snatching the case with the print from the ground and tucking it under her arm. Bucky threw the purse against The Dealer’s chest. He kept his gun pointed towards him as they backed toward the door, carefully watching for any sign of movement.

Print secured, Bucky and Sharon slipped out of the warehouse, moving swiftly through the dark Madripoor alleys. The adrenaline still flowed in Bucky’s veins, but when he glanced at the case in Sharon’s arms, he felt a surge of relief.

They had done it. The print was his. Yours.

—

You came through the front door, tired but smiling. “Buck, you home?” you called out, taking off your shoes and dropping your bag on the side table. He had been away for the last couple of days. For a mission, he had said, though he had been vague. He was supposed to be home today.

“In here,” came his reply from the living room. There was a slight edge to his voice— like he was holding something back in anticipation.

You walked into the living room only to stop dead in your tracks. 

Bucky stood there with a sleeveless shirt, placing a screwdriver on the table next to him. The print was hanging on the wall, illuminated by the soft glow of newly installed lamps around it. The familiar sight of the wave crashing down with unrelenting power, the grounding calm Mount Fuji in the background made your heart skip a beat.

You've spent so much of your spare time studying it, that you know this wasn’t just a print. It was one of the prints.

Your hand flew to your mouth, your eyes widening as you took slow steps closer to it. You were almost afraid it would crumble before your very eyes if you got too close.

“Bucky,” you whispered. “This… this can’t be real.”

Bucky stepped up beside you, his hands sliding into his pockets as he gave you a small, almost shy smile. “It is,” he confirmed. 

You took another slow step forward, eyes still locked on the print. How did he do this?

Your mind raced back to the past few weeks, remembering the subtle changes in Bucky’s behaviour—how he’d been more secretive, how he’d mentioned that mission but never gave you any real details. You hadn’t thought much of it at the time, assuming it was just another dangerous job, but now it all made sense.

This wasn’t just a print hanging on the wall. This was weeks—maybe months—of effort. Planning. Risking his life in ways he probably would never tell you about. 

“Bucky… this is—this is one of the original prints.” You eyed the certificate of authenticity on the table by where he was standing.”This is—oh my God—why—how did you even get this?”

He shrugged, his lips forming a small smile. “Had to pull a few strings. Nothing too crazy. Had help from Sharon, too.”

You looked at him like you didn’t quite believe him, but the joy in your eyes made every bullet dodged, every shady deal, worth it. 

He tried to play it off like it was no big deal, but the way his lips curved up in a knowing smile told you otherwise. “You’ve been talking about getting a print for so long,” he said. 

Your heart swelled at the thought, imagining the sheer effort he had gone through just to get this for you. “Are you insane, Buck? I asked for a reproduction print, maybe. but this…”

You still couldn’t quite believe it. You knew how rare this print was, how impossible it was to find, and yet… here it was. Hanging in your living room. For you.

You turned to face him. “You didn’t have to do this.”

He gently brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. “I just want to make my girl happy,” he said, his voice as soft and sincere as it has ever been. 

You laughed, wrapping your arms around him in a bear hug. “You make me happy, you know that, right?”

Bucky’s smile widened just a little, his metal arm resting on the small of your back. “I know,” he murmured. 

You wiped the hint of a happy tear on your eyes as you turned back to the print, taking it in once more. “You’re the most incredible man I’ve ever met,” you said, “I don’t know how I got so lucky.”

He chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I think we both are.”

Bucky pulled back slightly, shifting behind you. He wrapped his arm around your waist, his chin resting gently on your shoulder. The two of you stood there, side by side, gazing at the artwork. The warmth of his body against yours felt grounding, comforting.

“So…” he murmured, his breath soft against your neck, “now that you’ve got your Great Wave, what’s next? Starry Night?”

You laughed, scoffing at the thought of owning a Van Gogh. That would never happen, right? “I think I’ve got enough rare art for a lifetime.”

He grinned. “All you have to do is ask.”

You smiled, turning your head to look at him, your eyes fluttering shut as his lips met yours in the softest, most delicate kiss.

The Great Wave may be hanging on the wall in front of you, but to you, the true masterpiece— the one that truly mattered— was the man you loved.

-end

[brunchable]

Winter King, Part Two : I Wish You Would. . .

Pairings: King AU Bucky Barnes x Out of place Queen Reader Words: 18K Themes: Royaltycore AU, love and power, Arranged Marriage, georgian/regency era misogyny, Eventual Smut. Summary: The Kingdom's court is treacherous, and enemies lurk in the shadows, waiting to exploit any sign of weakness. Althought Y/N is determined to be a worthy queen of the crown, she find out that The King is as elusive as he is captivating. A/N: Inspired by Queen Charlotte. Also, if you like Sharon Carter, I'm sorry, someone needs to be an antagonist lmao. I hope I tagged everyone.

Tags: @theendofthematerialgworl @httpb3a @spiidergirlsworld @sebastians-love @stevesbbgorl

@targaryenhues @almosttoopizza @scott-loki-barnes @brckenmemories @vicmc624

The clinking of delicate china sounded in the sunroom, but the undercurrent of hostility was unmistakable. Sharon and Leah exchanged a glance, their eyes gleaming with something far more sinister than polite conversation. The warmth of the sun couldn’t reach you through the tension coiling around the table.

Sharon’s voice sliced through the moment, sweet but sharp, as though testing the blade before delivering the cut. “You know, Princess, there’s a rather fascinating story about His Majesty. It surprises me that no one has mentioned it to you yet.”

Your grip tightened on the teacup, but you kept a calm facade. Their words were like needles, pricking at your composure, but you wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of seeing you uneasy.

“Oh?” you replied, your tone light, “Do enlighten me.”

Leah leaned in slightly, lowering her voice as though sharing a secret meant only for your ears. “Well, it’s said that he was quite... entangled with Lady Maria for some time. You know how close they were? Practically inseparable.” She shot you a look that made your stomach tighten. “Of course, that was before you.”

The name Lady Maria was familiar to you, but the way they spoke it—like a weapon—made it clear they intended to lodge it in your heart, to make you doubt.

“Oh, I see,” you said, carefully placing the teacup down, though you could feel the prickle of unease beneath your skin. “Is this the same Lady Maris who now resides in the countryside?” You smiled, a sharp edge to your words. “Quite the distance from the palace, wouldn’t you say?”

Leah’s smile faltered ever so slightly, but Sharon’s eyes glittered with cruel amusement as she picked up the thread of the conversation. “Distance means little when it comes to passion. And His Majesty isn’t the type to forget such things... so easily.”

The insinuation in her words cut deeper than you wanted to admit. You could feel your composure slipping, the words sinking into your chest like stones. 

You met Sharon’s gaze squarely, keeping your tone even. “I find that real passion leaves no room for doubt,” you said smoothly, “nor for ghosts of the past.”

Sharon’s lips curved into a smile, “Of course, but the past has a way of... lingering, doesn’t it? Men like His Majesty—they tend to crave excitement. And I imagine keeping his interest will be... challenging.”

The implication hit its mark, a knot of jealousy tightening in your chest. They wanted you to believe you couldn’t hold Jame’s attention—that you were nothing more than a placeholder for someone more exciting, someone like Lady Maria.

Your breath caught, but you forced yourself to smile, lifting your teacup as if you hadn’t just been struck by their words. “I find that security comes from understanding,” you said, “And I’m more interested in the present than the past.”

Leah chuckled softly, leaning in closer. “Oh, but the present can be just as... tricky. After all, there are so many... distractions in the palace. You haven’t known him for very long, have you? So much is still hidden.”

Her words felt like poison, seeping into your mind, whispering the doubts you had been trying so hard to push away. Do you really know him? Can you trust him?

But you refused to let them see you falter. You couldn’t. Not when they were so clearly enjoying the game.

“Everyone has their secrets,” you replied calmly, though the weight of those secrets pressed down on you. “But I’ve learned not to rely on gossip to understand someone.”

Sharon’s eyes gleamed, her smile growing. “But don’t you wonder? All those nights he slipped away. Who knows where he went? Or who he was meeting under the moonlight?”

Your heart clenched, the insinuation sharp as a dagger. You could feel the cold tendrils of doubt creeping into your mind, wrapping around your thoughts. Was James still slipping away at night? Was there more he wasn’t telling you?

But you couldn’t let them see that doubt. You had come too far to let their words unravel you.

“I’m sure there are many stories about Prince James,” you said, your voice remained calm, though each word felt heavier now. “But I trust what I know, not what others choose to speculate about.”

Leah’s smile was thin, but her eyes sparkled with triumph, as though she sensed she had struck a nerve. “We’ll see soon enough, won’t we? After all, the wedding is tomorrow. Then we’ll all know whether you can... keep up.”

The words lingered, a challenge woven into every syllable. They were waiting for you to fail, to prove that you weren’t strong enough for this world, for him.

Your pulse raced, the pressure of their words settling like a weight on your chest, but you refused to let it break you. Slowly, you set your teacup down with a soft clink, meeting Sharon’s gaze one last time.

“I’ve faced many tests in my life,” you said, your voice low, but firm. “And I’m still here. I think that says enough.”

The tension hung thick in the air, you rose from your seat, the finality in your movement punctuating the moment. You had given them no ground, no cracks to exploit, and their smiles, once sharp and mocking, now seemed to falter, ever so slightly.

But just as you turned to leave, Sharon’s voice—smooth and saccharine—floated after you, stopping you in your tracks.

“It’s admirable, really, that someone from... Zienna is so resilient. I suppose growing up in such a small, modest country must have prepared you for all sorts of challenges.”

You froze, your hand pausing on the back of the chair. The underlying disdain in her tone wasn’t lost on you. Zienna, your home, was renowned for its beauty, but in the grander scheme of royal politics, it was often dismissed as insignificant. You could feel the mockery laced in her words, as if she were implying that your upbringing had made you desperate to prove yourself.

Leah’s laughter was light, airy. “Oh yes, Sharon. I imagine life there must have been... quaint. So very different from here, don’t you think, Princess?”

You turned slowly, meeting both of their gazes, your own smile never wavering. 

“You’re right. Zienna is different,” you said softly, letting the pride in your voice fill the room. “It’s a place where strength is measured by character, not status. Where beauty is in the resilience of the people, not the grandeur of a palace.”

Your words silenced them, the smile slipping from Sharon’s face. Leah’s eyes narrowed slightly, as though she hadn’t expected you to turn their words around so effortlessly.

“And if growing up there has prepared me for anything,” you continued, your voice steel beneath the sweetness, “it’s how to recognize empty words and empty hearts.” You paused, letting the weight of your gaze linger on them. “Qualities I can spot a mile away.”

The sunroom felt colder now, your retort hanging in the air like a cloud. Sharon’s lips pressed into a thin line, but she didn’t respond. Leah shifted uncomfortably in her seat, her earlier smugness evaporating.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me,” you said, a polite smile on your lips that didn’t reach your eyes, “I have preparations to attend to.”

And with that, you turned on your heel, leaving them behind. Each step you took away from the sunroom felt like a small victory, but even as you walked, their words echoed in your mind. The whispers of Lady Maria, the insinuations about James’s loyalty, the insults directed at your homeland—they lingered, swirling together into a storm of doubt.

As soon as you were out of sight, the carefully composed expression you had worn in the sunroom dissolved. Your lips pressed into a thin line, and with a sudden surge of frustration, you stomped away, your footsteps heavier. The garden path crunched beneath your shoes as you strode forward, the crisp air doing little to cool the heated emotions roiling inside you.

Your maids hurried behind you, their footsteps quick and uncertain as they struggled to keep pace. The sun was bright but dipped lower, casting long shadows over the carefully manicured hedges, but none of it registered in your mind. 

You stormed past the familiar stone wall—the very one you had once tried to climb, desperate for an escape from this life. A fleeting memory of that morning flashed in your mind, but you quickly whipped your attention forward, determined not to linger on what felt like another lifetime ago.

The sting of Sharon and Leah's words echoed in your thoughts, the insinuations they had dropped like poison slowly seeping through your veins. The worst part wasn’t their cruelty—it was the lingering doubt they left in their wake, the nagging feeling of inadequacy they had sown in your heart.

As you rounded the corner of the garden, you nearly collided with Captain Rogers. You froze for a moment, caught off guard by his presence. His tall frame blocked your path, and you looked up to meet the eyes of the man you had only seen from a distance—a legend in his own right, but unfamiliar to you until now.

“Princess,” his deep voice said, the faintest hint of surprise in his eyes. He stepped back, his posture respectful, but his gaze lingered on you, as if trying to piece together the storm that was painted across your face.

You drew in a breath. His broad shoulders seemed to fill the space, the strength behind his calm gaze only adding to the silent authority he carried. This was the first time he had seen you up close—really seen you—and you could feel his curiosity. His gaze was far too perceptive, as though he could sense the frustration crackling beneath your surface.

He didn’t move, his eyes scanning your face, taking in every detail—the tightness around your lips, the tension in your posture.

“Forgive me, Princess,” he said, his tone gentler now, “I didn’t mean to startle you. Is everything... all right?”

You hesitated. There was something in his voice—genuine concern, but also a strength, as though he was someone who wasn’t easily swayed by the petty games of court. The temptation to unload your frustration rose, but you bit it back, unwilling to show any weakness in front of someone you barely knew.

Behind you, faint whispers and barely contained giggles from the maids floated through the air.

“He’s even more handsome up close.”

“I heard he’s unmatched with the sword.”

“I wonder if the princess is the one who’s caught his eye.”

Their words blended together, stoking the embers of your growing frustration. You shot them a glance, and the group immediately fell silent, though the sparkle in their eyes remained, a few of them nudging each other playfully.

“Captain Rogers,” you repeated, forcing your attention back to him. His eyes flickered past you, noticing the commotion, but he merely smiled, almost as if he was used to the admiration.

"Apologies," he added with a subtle nod toward the flustered maids. "It seems I've become quite the spectacle." His lips quirked in a brief, amused smile before his gaze settled back on you, serious once again. "But that doesn't matter. Is everything truly all right, Princess?"

Your chest tightened. For a moment, the warmth in his eyes threatened to melt the wall you'd built, but you steeled yourself, unwilling to let anyone—especially James’s dear friend—see the cracks.

“Just taking some air,” you replied, attempting to sound indifferent, but your words wavered, betraying a hint of the emotional storm that raged inside you.

Captain Rogers didn’t move, his gaze softening. “It doesn’t seem like the air is doing much to help,” he observed quietly, a slight smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

The subtle warmth in his tone took you by surprise, pulling you from the haze of your own thoughts. It was the first time someone had spoken to you without a layer of formality, without some hidden agenda woven into their words. You weren’t sure if it was refreshing or irritating.

“Well,” you said, lifting your chin slightly, “hence why I’m going inside.”

He stepped aside then, giving you room to pass, but not before his gaze lingered on you one last time, as though he were trying to understand what had unsettled you so deeply. There was no judgment in his eyes—only curiosity.

You nodded curtly in thanks and strode past him, determined not to let him see the cracks in your composure. But even as you walked away, you could feel his presence behind you, as if he were still watching, trying to figure out the puzzle you hadn’t realized you’d become.

Your rest of your maids caught up as you reached the palace doors, their hurried whispers behind you barely registering. You walked past the towering columns and through the grand foyer, a figure appeared ahead of you—a palace staff member—your valet—his uniform crisp and formal. He looked as though he'd been searching for you, his eyes lighting up with relief the moment they landed on you.

“Ah! Princess,” he said, his voice polite but hurried, his slight bow both respectful and urgent. “I’ve been looking for you. Please, follow me—your fitting for the wedding dress is ready.”

You blinked, your frustrations from the sunroom now mixing with a new surge of nerves. The wedding dress fitting. Another reminder of how close the ceremony was—how close you were to stepping into a role you weren’t sure you were ready for. But there was no time to dwell on that now.

You nodded, giving a small, composed smile, though inside, your thoughts still raced. “Of course. Lead the way.”

Scott straightened and gestured down the hall, his steps brisk as you fell in behind him.

× × × ×

The fabric of the gown rustled as the maids adjusted the delicate lace at your sleeves, each stitch tightening like the invisible binds that held you in place. It wasn’t the dress constricting you—it was everything. The ceremony, the expectations… him.

James had become more of a shadow in your life than a man. You hadn’t seen him properly since that morning in the garden, where the flicker of connection between you felt like something precious, something fragile. Since then, you’d only glimpsed him—his tall figure at the coronation, his back turned to you, always just out of reach. And yet, the memory of his touch, the sparkle in his eyes as he teased you, lingered in your thoughts, whispering promises that felt as intangible as smoke.

But promises were thin when matched against the reality of your situation.

Your fingers fidgeted with the silk of your gown as another seamstress knelt at your feet, adjusting the hem. The fabric was exquisite, shimmering beneath the light, but it felt like a gilded cage. 

Lady Monica Rambeau circled you, her sharp eyes missing nothing, her presence as unyielding as the steel boning of your corset. She had been assigned to you since the engagement had been announced, her demeanor polite but impenetrable. No matter how hard you tried, you could not pierce the veil of formalities that cloaked her every word.

As Lady Rambeau came around the front of the gown, you cleared your throat, trying to keep your tone light, though the questions weighed heavily on your mind. “Lady Rambeau, I’ve noticed something.”

Her fingers stilled as she pinched a piece of fabric at your waist. “Hm?”

You hesitated, watching her closely. “The King… he always wears a glove on his left hand.”

Lady Rambeau didn’t flinch, but there was the slightest pause in her movements, the briefest tightening of her lips. You had been trained to notice such things.

“Yes, Princess,” she said, her tone smooth, but you caught the subtle shift in her expression. “Many royals have their eccentricities.”

You narrowed your eyes, not satisfied with her evasive response. “It seems more than just an eccentricity, doesn’t it?”

For the first time, Lady Rambeau’s gaze met yours directly, a flicker of something—was it pity?—in her eyes. “The prince prefers not to discuss such matters. It is... a personal choice.”

You straightened your back, feeling the frustration coil tighter inside you. You were about to marry him, and yet everyone seemed to know more about your future husband than you did. 

“A personal choice that no one seems willing to explain,” you countered, your voice sharp. “I’m about to marry him. Don’t I deserve to know the truth?”

There was a beat of silence before Lady Rambeau averted her gaze, focusing on the gown again. “Some truths, Princess, are best left for the prince to share himself.”

Her words landed heavily in the room, closing the conversation with an air of finality. You clenched your fists, feeling the fabric of your gown bunch beneath your fingers, the weight of everything pressing down on you like the tight bodice of this perfect, suffocating dress.

“Perhaps,” you muttered under your breath, “but a queen who knows nothing of her king is little more than a pawn.”

Lady Rambeau’s lips tightened again, but she didn’t respond. Instead, she straightened, her expression smoothing back into its usual calm, controlled mask. 

“The gown is perfect,” she said, her voice cool. “You will be the vision of a queen.”

You stared at her, your frustration simmering. 

“A vision,” you repeated softly, looking at your reflection in the mirror. The girl staring back at you wore a gown fit for a queen, but there was something hollow in her eyes. The truth was, you felt like an imposter in that mirror. How could you marry a man who remained an enigma, hidden behind secrets no one would speak of?

Lady Rambeau cleared her throat, sensing your thoughts. “Before we conclude, Princess, we must review the schedule for the day.”

You raised an eyebrow but didn’t protest. Not yet, anyway. “Of course.”

Lady Rambeau reached for the small ledger on the table, flipping through the neatly written notes. “This afternoon, after we’ve finalized the details of your gown, there will be a brief... educational session.”

You blinked, caught off guard. “Educational session?”

Her voice was smooth, unflappable. “Yes, Princess. It is customary for brides of your station to receive instruction on matters... related to the marriage bed.”

Heat rushed to your face, and the room suddenly felt stifling. “I—what kind of instruction?”

Lady Rambeau, as always, didn’t blink. “There will be materials provided. Diagrams, illustrations. You’ll be prepared for what is expected of you.”

The air in the room seemed to thicken, and you fought the urge to pull at the bodice of your gown. This wasn’t just a wedding—it was the beginning of something far more daunting, far more real. And you were expected to step into it without hesitation, without question.

Lady Rambeau seemed to sense your discomfort but pressed forward. “Afterward, there will be time for rest before your private dinner with His Majesty.”

Your pulse quickened. The first private moment with James since that morning in the garden. You hadn’t been alone with him since. You hadn’t seen him up close, hadn’t had the chance to ask the questions that had been building inside you.

“A private dinner?” you repeated, trying to shake the thoughts of the diagrams, of everything that seemed to loom on the horizon.

“Yes,” she confirmed, her voice unwavering. “It will be your final opportunity to speak with His Majesty before the ceremony tomorrow.”

You swallowed hard. Final opportunity. The phrase echoed in your mind like a warning. This was your last chance to confront him, to ask about the glove, about the rumors, about everything you had been kept in the dark about.

You nodded slowly. “I see.”

Lady Rambeau closed her ledger with a faint snap, offering a thin smile. “Everything is in place for tomorrow, Princess. You need only focus on your duties as queen.”

Duties. Expectations. Those were the words that seemed to follow you everywhere. But what about your fears? What about the truth? What about the man you were about to spend your life with?

You swallowed the frustration rising in your throat and nodded. “Very well.”

Lady Rambeau’s expression softened ever so slightly, perhaps sensing your internal turmoil. “Is there anything else, Princess?”

For a moment, the bitterness from the morning tea bubbled back to the surface, and you found yourself saying, “Actually, yes. Are there... any other ladies I can spend time with? The morning tea with Lady Sharon and Lady Leah left a rather bitter taste in my mouth.” 

Lady Rambeau’s lips twitched, the barest hint of amusement crossing her face before she masked it once more. “I see. I can certainly arrange for you to meet with a more agreeable company.”

A small sigh of relief escaped you. “Thank you. That would be much appreciated.”

With a nod, Lady Rambeau offered a brief, genuine smile. “Consider it done, Princess.”

× × × ×

You sat in an ornate chair, stiff and uncomfortable, while across from you, the Governess stood like a sentinel, her stern expression and ramrod-straight posture making the space feel even more intimidating.

Your eyes flickered nervously to the stack of leather-bound books on the table between you, each one larger and more foreboding than the last. Then there was the parchment—rolled up, but ominous in its stillness. There was something about the entire scene that made your skin crawl, as though you were not here for a lesson but being led into battle.

“Princess,” the governess began, her tone clipped and authoritative, “this session is essential to your role as the future queen and wife. It is vital that you understand the... expectations that will be placed upon you in the marriage bed.”

You found yourself shifting uncomfortably in your seat. Your hands gripped the armrests, trying to hold on to a semblance of composure. But there was nothing composed about this moment, nothing regal about what was happening.

The governess pulled one of the books from the pile and flipped it open, revealing a diagram that made your stomach turn. The lines, the shapes—they were clinical, and yet, utterly mortifying. You felt heat rising in your face, and it took everything in you not to roll your eyes. The absurdity of the situation made you want to laugh, but you bit down on the impulse, hard.

“This,” the governess continued, her voice as sharp as her gaze, “is crucial knowledge for fulfilling your wifely duties. You must be prepared to consummate the marriage.”

You swallowed hard, shifting again, the lesson settling over you like an iron cloak. “I think I understand the general concept,” you muttered, trying to keep your tone light despite the tight knot of discomfort twisting in your gut.

She ignored your attempt at levity, her movements precise as she unfurled the parchment on the table. It revealed even more intricate—and mortifying—illustrations. Your eyes widened in disbelief as you stared at the detailed depictions, each one meticulously labeled as though this were a scientific experiment and not the intimate realities of your future.

You blinked, your heart pounding faster, a cold sweat breaking out on the back of your neck. This can’t be happening.

“Pay attention, Princess,” the governess said sharply, noticing your wandering gaze. “This knowledge is essential. You must understand your role—how to fulfill your responsibilities as a wife.”

Your patience snapped. You could no longer hold back the bubbling frustration. 

“My role?” you echoed, gesturing toward the diagrams with a wave of your hand. “You mean my role as a willing participant in this?”

The governess’ eyes narrowed, her back straightening further, if that were even possible. “Princess, this is not a matter to be taken lightly. The consummation of your marriage is not only expected, but required. You must take your duty seriously.”

A snort escaped you before you could stop it. The absurdity of it all—the coldness, the diagrams, the formality of something so intimate—was overwhelming. You hadn’t seen James in days, hadn’t even spoken more than a few proper words to him, and here you were, being lectured on consummation because it was a royal decree.

“I haven’t even had a proper conversation with the man,” you blurted out, almost laughing at the ridiculousness of it all. “How am I supposed to take this seriously?”

The governess’ gaze turned icy, her lips thinning into a disapproving line. “Princess,” she began, sounding a bit disappointed, “you may find this situation amusing, but let me remind you—this is no laughing matter. As queen, it is your duty to provide heirs. That cannot happen if you do not fulfill your responsibilities to His Majesty.”

The levity you had clung to vanished, replaced by something far darker, far more suffocating.

Heirs.

This wasn’t just about duty anymore. It wasn’t about vague responsibilities or distant expectations. This was real. This was your future—your life.

“So,” She cleared her throat noticing the change in your demeanor, “If you don’t want His Majesty to find a consort willing to provide him an heir, I suggest you listen and learn carefully.”

The room suddenly felt too small, the air too thick. You tried to even out your breathing, but the panic clawing at your chest made it difficult to think, difficult to even breathe. You were no longer the girl standing in the garden, teased by a prince about escaping. You were a woman facing the stark reality of a role that felt far too large for you.

Your heart pounded in your ears as the governess’s cold, unrelenting gaze bored into you. She wasn’t just speaking of abstract duties or obligations. This was real, and you had no escape.

“I... I understand,” you whispered, though the words felt hollow. 

“Do you?” the governess asked, her tone softer now, but still cold with authority. “This is your reality, Princess. You cannot run from it. The marriage will be consummated. You will need to provide heirs. There is no escaping that.”

Each word she spoke settled into your bones, cold and unyielding. You had spent so much time avoiding this truth, brushing it aside as something distant. But now, with the weight of her gaze and the reality staring back at you from those diagrams, there was no avoiding it.

The laughter that had once bubbled in your throat turned bitter. There was no humor here. No escape.

Your hands clenched in your lap, gripping the fabric of your gown so tightly your knuckles turned white. You wanted to protest, to fight back against this fate being thrust upon you, but the enormity of it left you speechless. For the first time in days, you felt utterly powerless.

The governess, sensing your resignation, continued in her cold, measured tone. “I suggest you take these lessons more seriously from now on, Princess. This is not just about your future. It is about the future of the kingdom.”

You didn’t respond. You couldn’t. There was nothing left to say.

You nodded, barely, the movement small and mechanical, as though you had been drained of all energy, all fight. Her words had pressed down on you, threatening to snuff out the last bit of spirit you had left.

And the worst part?

She was right.

There was no escaping this.

× × × ×

Lady Romanoff

The sound of clashing steel filled the training yard, the sharp ring of swords slicing through the afternoon air. Lady Natasha moved with deadly precision, her every strike calculated, her every parry effortless. The soldiers she sparred with were drenched in sweat, struggling to keep up with her, but she showed no mercy. Her red hair was tied back, a single loose strand framing her sharp, focused features.

"Lady Natasha!" A voice called out, breaking the rhythm of the duel.

She spun around, lowering her sword as a servant approached, bowing deeply before handing her a letter sealed with the royal crest. Her sharp eyes lingered on the seal for a moment before she waved her sparring partner off, wiping her brow with the back of her hand.

Natasha turned away from the yard, stepping into the shade of the estate’s stone walls as she broke the seal. Her fingers traced over the words, the formal language of the letter at odds with the simple, direct life she preferred.

“To Lady Natasha Romanoff,

By order of His Majesty and the future Queen of Montelune, you are hereby invited to join the Princess Y/N’s court as a trusted advisor and protector…”

Her lips curved into the barest hint of a smile. Protector. She could handle that.

The wind stirred around her as she folded the letter, her eyes flickering toward the horizon where the palace loomed in the distance. She had been summoned. And when the future queen called, Natasha Romanoff never refused.

- - - -

Lady Maximoff

In the quiet of her private study, Lady Wanda Maximoff sat by a large, arched window overlooking the rolling hills that stretched far beyond her family's estate. The air smelled of herbs and candle wax, and the only sound was the faint crackle of the fire behind her. She was deep in thought, her hands idly weaving through the delicate threads of red magic that swirled around her fingertips, when a soft knock broke her focus.

A servant entered, bowing as he held out a letter sealed with the royal crest. Wanda's brows knit together as she dismissed the magic with a flick of her hand, taking the letter and gently breaking the seal.

The letter unfolded in her hands, the parchment crisp and formal, though the weight of its words pressed heavily on her chest.

“To Lady Wanda Maximoff,

By order of His Majesty and the future Queen of Montelune, you are invited to join Princess Y/N’s court, where your wisdom and unique abilities will be invaluable…”

She blinked, her eyes lingering on the phrase unique abilities. They were calling her for more than just her title. A sense of unease stirred in her chest, but also a flicker of something else—purpose.

She closed the letter carefully, her eyes drifting out of the window again. Her future was no longer here in the quiet, secluded halls of her family home. It was with the future queen. It was time to leave the shadows behind.

- - - -

Lady Potts

Lady Virginia Potts stood in the grand parlor of her estate, the late afternoon sun casting golden light over the polished wood floors. Her hands were busy organizing the mountain of correspondence scattered across the table, responding to various requests from lords and ladies who sought her counsel. Her estate was immaculate, a reflection of her meticulous nature.

A servant entered quietly, holding a single letter with a royal seal, far more significant than the others. Pepper paused, her hands stilling as she reached for the letter, curiosity flickering in her eyes.

Breaking the seal, she scanned the words with a practiced eye, though the gravity of the message slowed her reading.

“To Lady Virginia Potts,

By the request of His Majesty and the future Queen of Montelune, you are invited to join Princess Y/N’s court, where your knowledge and expertise in matters of statecraft will be essential…”

Pepper set the letter down, her fingers resting lightly on the parchment. It had been some time since she had involved herself with court politics, preferring the stability of her own estate and businesses. But this... this was a request she could not turn down.

The future queen needed her, and where there was a need for clarity and order, Pepper Potts would always step in.

She smoothed the letter, her lips curving into a soft, knowing smile. The court had no idea what they were in for.

× × × × 

The heavy oak doors creaked open as you were led into the private dining room, the faint rustle of your gown the only sound as the maid quietly withdrew behind you, leaving you in the stillness of the grand chamber. A fire crackled softly in the hearth, casting a golden light over the room, and your eyes fell on him immediately.

King James stood by the large window, one hand resting on the frame, the other gloved hand at his side. He looked out over the sprawling grounds, the fading light of the evening casting a halo of gold through his hair, painting him in a soft, almost ethereal glow. You simply stood there, unable to speak. Unable to move. You hadn't seen him like this before—unburdened by the weight of ceremony or titles—and it stirred something deep within you.

Sensing your presence, he turned slowly, and the moment his eyes met yours, the air shifted. His smile bloomed—soft, adoring, and it lit up the space between you, as though you were the only person in the world.

"Princess," he murmured, his voice warm and intimate, yet restrained. There was a note of something unspoken there, something deeper. The way he looked at you—his blue eyes tracing the delicate lines of your face—made your heart stutter in your chest.

You offered him a small curtsy, your stomach fluttering as you lifted your gaze. “Your Majesty.”

"Please, to you I’m just James." James gestured to the long, elegantly set dining table. “Join me.”

You approached the table with grace, your pulse quickening as you took in the grand spread before you. The chairs were separated by a stretch of three empty seats, and despite the intimate setting, the distance felt like you're oceans apart. You hesitated for a moment but obeyed, sitting across from him at the far end.

He watched you, his smile not faltering, but his eyes grew thoughtful as you settled into your seat. “You look lovely,” he said quietly, his voice rich but gentle.

Your heart gave a little flutter, and despite the formality, you couldn’t help but feel warmth creep up your neck at his words. 

“Thank you,” you replied, meeting his gaze with a steadying breath. “You seem… deeply in thought,” you added, noting the subtle tension in his jaw, the way his gloved hand rested stiffly against the table.

He let out a quiet breath, his eyes lingering on yours as though he was trying to gauge your thoughts. 

“Perhaps,” he admitted with a small, almost shy smile. “It’s hard not to be when my future is sitting across from me.”

You look down with a smile, a shy reaction. But before you could let them settle too deeply, you cleared your throat, turning the conversation to lighter things. Questions formed quickly in your mind—trivial, unimportant things, but questions that would keep your heart from racing too fast, your thoughts from spiraling.

You gathered your courage, determined to make this dinner less formal and distant. There was so much you didn’t know about hum—about the man you were about to marry. So, before the weight of more serious questions settled over the evening, you decided to ask him about the smaller things. Things that would make him feel more human, less like the elusive king you were supposed to wed.

“Do you have a nickname?” you asked, breaking the silence with a playful tilt to your voice, hoping to ease the tension that had been lingering since the moment you entered the room.

James blinked, surprised by the question, then let out a soft chuckle. “A nickname? I didn’t expect that to be your first question.”

You smiled, “I have to start somewhere, don’t I?”

He grinned, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “Well, my mother used to call me Bucky when I was younger,” he said, his voice softer now. “But that name’s reserved for a select few.”

“Bucky,” you repeated, the name feeling strangely intimate on your lips. “And who are these ‘select few’?”

Bucky’s smile widened, but there was a flicker of something deeper in his gaze. “People I trust. Mostly my closest friends.”

Your curiosity grew, and you seized the opportunity to dig a little deeper. “Speaking of which, who are your best friends? I feel like I should know the people who are important to you.”

“Steve—Captain Rogers, as you might know him. He’s been my best friend since we were boys. There’s also Sam—he’s got a sharp sense of humor and enjoys keeping me humble.”

“Sounds like you’ve got a good group around you.” You couldn’t help but smile at the affection in his tone. 

Bucky nodded, his gaze growing warmer as he spoke of his friends. “Yeah, I’m lucky to have them.”

“And your horse? What’s his name?” You shifted in your seat, feeling a bit more comfortable now that the conversation had softened.

“His name’s Alpine.” He glanced at you with a grin, clearly surprised at your curiosity.

“Alpine?” you repeated, arching a brow.

“It suits him,” Bucky said with a shrug, though there was a twinkle of fondness in his eyes. “He’s stubborn, strong-willed… reminds me of someone.”

You laughed softly at that, feeling the weight of the room lift slightly. “I’d like to officially meet him sometime.”

Bucky’s smile lingered. The conversation had been easy, light, but the distance—both physical and emotional—still felt too vast. You wanted to ask more, to dig beneath the surface. But the space between you felt like a barrier, one you suddenly couldn’t bear any longer.

Without overthinking it, you set down your cutlery, stood, and lifted your plate from its place. Bucky’s eyes widened slightly in surprise as you walked around the table and sat beside him, taking the chair at his right.

Bucky watched you, clearly taken aback, but there was no disapproval in his gaze. If anything, he was amazed at how you seem to give no mind with tradition.

Bucky looked up at you, his lips curving into an intrigued smile.

“Sitting across from you felt… wrong,” you admitted softly. “There’s too much distance.”

Bucky’s eyes softened at your words, and though his expression remained composed, the way his body angled toward you—subtly, almost instinctively—revealed more than he probably intended.

You swallowed, heart pounding as you prepared yourself for the question you’d been avoiding all night. “There’s something I need to ask you, Your Majes—”

“James.”

“James. . .” You repeated his name.

Sitting next to him, the air seemed intimate, and the flicker of the candles on the table cast shadows that danced between your gazes. He was watching you—intensely, yet not in a way that was uncomfortable. There was something magnetic about the way he studied you, as if he was trying to figure you out, but not in the calculating manner you’d come to expect from others.

You swallowed, composing yourself. The words slipped from your lips before you had time to second guess them. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you... about Lady Hill.”

Bucky’s expression didn’t falter, but you noticed the slight stiffening of his shoulders, the way his jaw clenched ever so subtly. He turned slightly to look at you, his eyes searching yours.

You hadn’t meant to sound so blunt, but the name had hung between you like a shadow since the ladies made sure the name stuck to you. The jealousy bubbling up inside you—the ache you refused to admit even to yourself—made it impossible to keep the question locked away.

“Lady Hill,” you continued, your voice quieter now, though no less steady. “I’ve heard... stories. About you and her.”

Bucky sighed softly, his eyes drifting momentarily to the flickering flames in the hearth before returning to you. “You’ve heard a lot, I’m sure.”

You pressed your lips together, not trusting yourself to speak. It was foolish, really—this feeling of jealousy. You barely knew him, yet the thought of him being close to someone else, someone before you, unsettled you in ways you couldn’t quite understand. Or, maybe you did, but you didn’t want to admit it.

Bucky turned his full attention to you now, his eyes softening, though his gaze held something more serious, something weighted with regret. “There was a time when Lady Hill and I were... close. But that time has long since passed.”

You exhaled softly, though the knot in your chest didn’t fully loosen. “And now?”

His gaze softened even further, as if he could see straight through your carefully composed exterior. “Now?” he echoed, his voice quieter, more intimate. “Now, I’m here with you, not her. And that should tell you everything.”

The words sent a flutter through your chest, though you tried to ignore it. There was something undeniable between you—a pull, a connection that went beyond formalities. Yet, you couldn’t let yourself get lost in it. Not yet.

“Yes, yes it does.”

Bucky’s brow furrowed as he studied your expression, taking in the slight tremble in your voice and the way you seemed to press your lips together, fighting to keep your emotions in check. He didn’t need you to say anything more to know what was going on in your head. He could see it, the doubt creeping into your mind.

He sighed softly, setting down his glass, the clink against the table louder than the quiet room. His gaze never left yours, though.

“Something’s wrong,” he said quietly, his voice laced with a gentleness you hadn’t expected. “You’re not just asking about Lady Hill. There’s something else. What is it?”

You blinked, taken aback by how perceptive he was. You hadn’t meant for him to see through the carefully built walls you had erected. But there he was, watching you with concern, as though he could sense something brewing inside you. Your pulse quickened as you struggled to keep your composure, to bury the jealousy that had crept up, uninvited, after hearing all those stories.

You looked away for a moment, trying to find the right words, to shake off the feeling that you weren’t enough—that maybe you never would be for a man like him. But Bucky wasn’t the type to let something like that slide.

“Y/N,” he said softly, leaning in just a little, as though closing the gap between you might help ease the distance in your heart. “Talk to me. Whatever you’ve heard... Whatever they’ve said, you can ask me. I’ll tell you the truth.”

Your breath hitched, his words wrapping around you like a lifeline you hadn’t realized you needed. Slowly, you turned back to face him.

“They...” You hesitated, biting your lip as you struggled to say it. “They said, you always sneak out late at night to see her.” The admission came out more quietly than you intended.

“Do you believe that?”

You swallowed hard, looking down at your hands as your fingers twisted the fabric of your gown. 

“I don’t want to believe it,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “But... they’re so convincing. And I—” Your breath hitched as the words caught in your throat, and you couldn’t bring yourself to finish the sentence.

“Who is ‘they,’ Y/N?”

“People in court. They... they—”

“Be specific,” Bucky interrupted, his voice low, a command wrapped in concern. His blue eyes darkened with a mixture of frustration and protectiveness. He wasn’t angry—no, this was something else. He needed to know who had put these thoughts in your head, who had made you doubt him.

Your mouth hung open, caught off guard by the force of his words. He wasn’t going to let this go. He wouldn’t just sit there and let these rumors fester. And now, you couldn’t stop wondering—what would he do if you said their names? What would happen if you told him it was Sharon and Leah who had whispered those poisonous words into your ears?

For a brief moment, the idea of saying their names lingered on your lips. But you hesitated. Would telling him only make things worse? Would it lead to a confrontation you weren’t ready for? What if he confronted them, and everything in court shifted?

His gaze remained locked on yours, unwavering, waiting.

“Y/N,” he said again, his voice softer now, “Tell me.”

“It doesn’t matter who said it,” you murmured finally, shaking your head before looking back at him.

He blinked, surprised by your words, by the mercy you had just shown—choosing not to name those who had tried to plant doubt between the two of you. Most people in the court would have been eager to point fingers, to seek revenge or justice. But not you.

It doesn’t matter who said it. Your words echoed in his mind, and he realized just how different you were from the others. You weren’t driven by spite or the need for retribution. And that stunned him, amazed him in a way he hadn’t expected.

A slow breath escaped him as he continued to watch you, the vulnerability in your eyes clear, yet there was a strength there, too. A strength in choosing to let go of the pettiness of court gossip, in refusing to let others’ words dictate your path.

God, you're unlike anyone I've ever known.

But even as that admiration filled him, Bucky knew one thing for certain: he would find out who had whispered those lies to you. He wouldn’t let this slide. Not for the sake of revenge, but because those people—whoever they were—had tried to tarnish what was growing between you and him. And that was something he couldn’t forgive so easily.

Still, he wouldn’t push you now. He wouldn’t force you to tell him. You had shown mercy, and he respected that. But he would find out in another way. Quietly. Without involving you any further.

“You’re right,” he said softly, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down your spine. “They don’t matter.”

You nodded with a fleeting faint smile. Your eyes flicked to his gloved hand, the leather dark and smooth, always present, never explained. 

“The glove. . .” you trailed off hesitantly, “Why do you always wear it?”

Bucky’s gaze followed yours, landing on the glove that covered his left hand. His face shifted, the softness hardening into what seemed like pain, and you thought he might not answer.

He flexed his fingers beneath the glove, his jaw tightening. “It’s... not something I speak about often,” he admitted quietly, his voice rougher now. “But since you’ve asked, and since we’re to be... married, I’ll tell you.”

You held your breath, your heart pounding as you waited for him to continue.

Bucky turned his head slightly, the tension in his posture growing. “I was injured. A long time ago,” He paused, his eyes flicking to you, gauging your reaction. “The glove hides the... reminder.”

He was holding back, guarding himself. You could feel it, sense it in every strained breath he took. Whatever lay beneath that glove—whatever part of him he hadn’t revealed—it was something that still haunted him, something he wasn’t ready to share to its full extent.

“I’m... sorry,” you said quietly, the words feeling inadequate. “I shouldn’t have asked.”

Bucky offered a small, strained smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “There’s no need to apologize. It’s just a part of who I am now.”

“I see. You are very brave.”

His fingers twitched, aching to close the small space between you. But instead of reaching out, he curled them into his lap, trying to keep control. Because if he touched you now—if he let himself give in even for a second—he wasn’t sure he’d be able to stop.

He wasn’t sure he wanted to.

But the fear... the fear that you wouldn’t want this—wouldn’t want him—kept him silent. For now.

“You surprise me, you know,” he murmured, his voice low, intimate.

You blinked, “I do?”

He nodded, his lips curving into a small, almost tender smile. “You’re not like anyone I’ve ever met. You ask questions no one else dares to ask.”

“I want to get to know you. .” You said without missing a beat, “You gave me a choice at the garden—whether to run or stay while knowing who I was—I chose to stay.”

The warmth in Bucky's gaze sent a flutter through your chest, making it hard to think clearly. You could feel the weight of his stare on you, the way his eyes traced every curve of your face, every movement you made.

"I feel the same way," Bucky said, his voice so soft it was almost lost in the space between you. His eyes lingering on your lips before slowly moving to look into your eyes.

You felt a pull, an unspoken invitation hanging in the air. You smiled and straightened yourself, “Good, I’m glad we both ag—”

Before you could finish, his hand cupped the side of your face and captured you into a kiss. His touch electrifies every fiber of you, and you froze, your heart hammering in your chest.

It wasn't a tentative kiss, nor was it hesitant. His hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you closer as his lips moved against yours, gently nibbling on your bottom lip. He kissed you like he'd been dying to do it, like he'd been holding back for far too long, and now he couldn't help himself.

Your breath hitched, your mind going blank as you melted into him, your hand instinctively gripping the sleeve of his coat. The taste of him, the feel of his body so close to yours, was intoxicating.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours. His eyes searched yours, filled with an adoration you had never seen before, and it took everything in you to catch your breath.

“I've wanted to kiss you since that day but I had to let you go," Bucky whispered, his voice rough with need. 

His gaze was heavy, half-lidded with desire, and just as he was about to lean in to taste you again, a knock at the door cut through the moment, shattering the fragile bubble of intimacy.

You jolted away from him, creating a hasty distance between you, while Bucky remained unusually calm, though his eyes still burned with the heat of the moment.

“Enter,” Bucky called out, his voice steady despite the tension lingering in the room.

The door creaked open, and Steve entered, his gaze flickering between you and Bucky before settling on his friend.

“Your Majesty, Are you ready to leave?” Steve asked, his tone casual, though you didn’t miss the brief glance he gave you.

“Oh,” Bucky muttered, his posture relaxing as he slid his hands into his coat pockets. “Is it that time already?”

You busied yourself, trying to smooth down your gown and regulate your breathing as you stood up, your heart hadn’t quite slowed.

Bucky stood slowly, his eyes never leaving yours as he straightened his coat, a small, teasing smile curling at the corners of his lips. He took a step toward you, the warmth of his gaze made your heart flutter all over again.

He reached for your hand, taking it gently on his own, and brought it to his lips, his touch soft and reverent. The kiss he pressed to the back of your hand was tender, but the heat of his breath sent a shiver racing up your spine. When he pulled away, his fingers lingered, tracing the delicate skin of your knuckles.

“I enjoyed my time with you tonight,” he murmured, his voice low and intimate. His thumb brushed lightly over your skin, and you could feel the sincerity in his words. “I shall see you tomorrow.”

He leaned in ever so slightly, his voice dropping even lower, the teasing glint returning to his eyes. “And Princess, don’t think about climbing any more walls,” His lips tugged into a smirk, “I won’t help you, if I find you.”

A soft laugh escaped you despite the warmth in your cheeks, and before you could respond, he stepped back, releasing your hand with a lingering touch.

Turning toward Steve, Bucky’s expression shifted back to his usual composed self. “Steve, walk her to her chambers, I’ll meet you outside.”

Steve nodded, stepping forward as Bucky offered you one last look, his gaze softening again. “Rest well, Y/N. For tomorrow I shall be yours, and you mine.”

And with that, he left the room, his presence like a shadow lingering even after the door closed behind him. You stood there, still reeling from the touch of his lips on your hand, from the quiet promise in his words, as Steve approached, clearing his throat gently to pull you from your thoughts.

“Shall we?” Steve asked, his voice calm as always, though there was a knowing edge to his expression, as if he had sensed more than he let on.

You nodded, your heart still racing, but you couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips as Steve offered you his arm. As you walked together toward your chambers, you couldn’t shake the feeling that tonight had changed everything. And no matter how much you tried to calm your racing heart, the warmth of Bucky’s kiss stayed with you, long after you had bid him goodnight.

× × × ×

The heavy velvet drapes lining the walls absorbed much of the noise, leaving the soft echo of your footsteps the only sound that filled the space.

He glanced at you from the corner of his eye, “You’re quiet,” he said, his voice gentle, as though he didn’t want to intrude on whatever was lingering in your mind.

You gave a soft, tight-lipped smile, your heart still not quite calmed down after what had transpired with Bucky. 

“I find myself with much to contemplate,” you murmured, your voice carrying the weight of the evening. You stole a glance at Steve, who seemed to nod, understanding more than you expected him to.

“Bucky often has that effect upon people,” he said, a small smile tugging at his lips, though his gaze remained forward.

The comment caught you off guard, and despite yourself, a soft laugh escaped. “Does he?” you asked, your tone teasing, but there was something in Steve’s smile that hinted he knew exactly what had happened between you and Bucky.

Steve chuckled, his voice a low rumble. “You’ve noticed by now, haven’t you?” He gave you a sidelong glance. “He is not an easy man to understand, I grant you that. But when he chooses to care for someone…” Steve’s voice faltered slightly, as though choosing his words with care, “…he does not do so in half measures.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the implication, but you didn’t respond. Instead, you kept walking, the candle lit hallway stretching out ahead of you, each flickering light casting long shadows on the stone floor.

Steve’s words hung in the air, and as you walked in silence for a moment, you couldn’t help but replay Bucky’s kiss in your mind—the way his lips had lingered on yours, the way his eyes had softened when he looked at you, the teasing warmth of his final words.

“Bucky’s lucky to have someone like you,” Steve said after a while, breaking the silence again. His tone was sincere, almost protective, and when you looked at him, you could see the loyalty in his eyes—not just to his friend, but to you as well.

The comment took you by surprise, and you blinked, unsure of what to say. “I’m lucky to have met him,” you replied softly, your voice carrying more weight than you had expected. It wasn’t just a formal response; it was the truth. In the short time you’d known Bucky, he had drawn something out of you—something deeper than you were prepared to admit.

Steve’s gaze softened, and his lips curved into a small, approving smile. “I’m glad you think so.”

As the walk continued, the palace walls seemed to narrow slightly, the corridor leading toward your chambers now dimly lit by only a few flickering torches. You could feel the end of the evening approaching, and with it, a certain reluctance to leave the comfortable quiet that had settled between you and Steve.

“Tell me, Captain,” you began hesitantly, “do you believe that His Majesty ever... doubts himself? Given the weight of the responsibilities he bears?”

Steve’s expression grew thoughtful, his brow furrowing ever so slightly. “He bears more than most could comprehend,” he said slowly. “But one thing I know with certainty—once his mind is set, whether it be upon a matter or a person,” his gaze flickered toward you meaningfully, “he does not question his resolve.”

As you approached the door to your chambers, Steve slowed, and you could feel the shift in the air, the end of the conversation nearing. He let go of your arm and turned to face you fully, his expression serious but kind.

“I’ll be here tomorrow,” he said simply, as if promising something far greater than just his presence. “If you need anything.”

“Thank you,” you replied, meaning it more than you could express.

He gave you a small nod, stepping back slightly as you reached for the door handle. “Goodnight, Princess.”

You paused, the door half-open, and gave him a warm smile before slipping inside. “Goodnight, Captain.”

As the door closed behind you and you backed against the door, your heart still racing, you realized that tomorrow your life will be changed drastically.

× × × ×

Captain Rogers descended the grand staircase, he adjusted the hilt of his sword, his gaze scanning the courtyard for Bucky.

The king was waiting by the fountain, leaning against his white stallion, Alpine, his silhouette almost ethereal under the silvery moonlight. 

“Ready to head out?” Bucky asked, his voice low and casual, as if they were merely discussing a routine ride instead of what lay ahead.

Steve mounted his own horse, the leather creaking softly beneath him as he settled into the saddle. He glanced at Bucky, then asked, “You kissed her, didn’t you?”

A smirk tugged at Bucky’s lips, but he didn’t turn to face Steve. “Wouldn’t you?” he replied smoothly.

Steve let out a sigh, shaking his head slightly. “I’m not going to answer that.”

A soft laugh escaped Bucky, the sound surprisingly light given the tension that clung to the night. They nudged their horses forward, the steady clop of hooves the only sound as they made their way along the moonlit path.

“You know,” Steve began, his gaze drifting to the silhouette of the palace behind them, “I have to wonder… Why do you want to be in Annecy tonight? Your wedding is tomorrow, Buck.”

Bucky’s shoulders tensed slightly, and he let out a low, rueful chuckle. He flexed his left hand, the movement barely perceptible but unmistakable to Steve’s watchful eyes. 

“You know why,” he said softly.

Steve nodded, understanding flashing across his features. He knew Bucky’s struggle—the ghosts that haunted him, the weight he carried that went far beyond a king’s responsibilities. There was always a part of Bucky that seemed to be at war with himself, the part that made even the simplest things—like sharing the same roof with his own future wife—feel like an insurmountable task.

They rode in silence for a few more minutes, the steady rhythm of the horses’ hooves lulling them into a semblance of calm. But then, Bucky shifted in his saddle, his gaze flickering to Steve.

“I need you to do me a favor,” Bucky said suddenly, his voice quiet but firm. “I need you to show a little interest in the princess.”

Steve’s head snapped around, his eyes widening. “What?” He blinked, incredulous. “Have you gone mad? Are you trying to get my head chopped off by the Queen Dowager?”

Bucky’s lips twitched into a smile, but his eyes were serious. “It’s important, Steve.”

“No,” Steve said flatly, shaking his head. “I’m not doing that. It’ll cause a scandal. It’ll make you look like a fool and make me look even worse.”

“Oh, come on,” Bucky urged, his tone almost playful.

“No,” Steve repeated firmly, his jaw set. “Why? Why would I do that?”

“Because I need some gossip,” Bucky said with a grin, though his eyes held a hint of something deeper. “Just enough to keep people talking.”

Steve let out a begrudging laugh, shaking his head again. “That’s worse, Bucky. Do you know how bad that would look? I’ll look like I’m trying to swoop in and steal the queen. The court would eat us alive. And besides—” he narrowed his eyes at Bucky, his expression hardening, “you really want to make me look like that?”

“Just trust me on this,” Bucky insisted, his voice dropping to a more serious tone. “I’ll have your back, like I always do. You know that.”

Steve held his gaze for a long moment, suspicion mingling with concern. Bucky had that look in his eyes—the one that said he was up to something, something he wasn’t sharing.

“What are you really up to, Bucky?” Steve asked quietly, his brow furrowing. “What’s this really about?”

Bucky hesitated, the playful glint in his eyes dimming. He looked away, his gaze turning distant. “I need to find out who’s making up stories about me.”

“So, you want to use me to flush out whoever it is?”

Bucky’s lips twisted into a rueful smile. “Something like that.”

“Bucky…” Steve’s voice held a warning edge. “You’re risking a lot by playing these games.”

“It’s not a game,” Bucky shot back quietly, his voice tight. “They’re trying to undermine her, and I can’t stand by and watch.”

Steve stared at him, a mix of disbelief and reluctant understanding on his face. “And you think feigning interest in the princess will make them reveal themselves?”

Bucky shrugged, his smile strained. “Jealousy’s a powerful thing. If I act indifferent, it might embolden them. If I get you to show some interest in her, they might think they have more of an opportunity to turn her against me. The more they reveal, the more I can do.”

Steve let out a frustrated breath, running a hand through his hair. “You’re playing a dangerous game.”

Bucky’s expression softened, the steel in his eyes giving way to a gentler determination. “I know. But I can’t let them manipulate her. I can sense that Y/N is strong, but she’s alone here. She needs to see I’m willing to do whatever it takes to keep her safe—even if she doesn’t understand it yet.”

Steve was quiet for a long moment, his gaze searching Bucky’s face. “And what if it backfires? What if she thinks you’re encouraging me because you don’t care?”

“Then I’ll have to fix it.” Bucky’s voice was resolute, his gaze unwavering. “I’ll make her see. But first, I need to know who’s been feeding her lies.”

Steve’s shoulders slumped, a sigh escaping him. “You’re asking me to throw myself into the lion’s den.”

“Just for a little while,” Bucky said softly, his voice almost pleading. “Just until I get to the bottom of this.”

Steve shook his head, but a small, resigned smile tugged at his lips. “You owe me a lot for this, you know that?”

Bucky let out a quiet laugh, the tension in his posture easing slightly. “I know. I always do.”

They continued riding in silence, the moon casting long shadows along the path. Steve’s mind raced, weighing the risks and consequences, but beneath it all was a steady resolve.

“Fine,” he murmured after a long pause. “But don’t blame me if this blows up in your face.”

“I won’t. Thank you, Steve.” Bucky smiled, his expression grateful and laced with relief.

Steve nodded once, the resolve in his eyes mirroring Bucky’s. “Let’s hope this works. For her sake.”

“Yeah,” Bucky whispered, his gaze turning distant as his thoughts drifted back to you. “For her sake.”

× × × ×

The morning of your wedding dawned with a soft golden light filtering through the tall windows of your chamber, bathing the room in its warmth. You sat in front of the grand vanity, your reflection staring back at you, almost unrecognizable in its regal splendor. The maids had been working tirelessly to prepare you, their hands deftly weaving your hair into an intricate style, fastening the delicate tiara onto your head—a symbol of the new life you were about to enter.

Your gown, a masterpiece of lace and silk, shimmered in the soft light, its heavy skirts spreading around you like a cascade of moonlight. The bodice fits you like a second skin, the embroidery of gold thread intertwining with pearls, adding to the weight you already felt in your chest. You could hear the faint noises of activity from the palace below, the preparations for the ceremony well underway.

A knock at the door pulled you from your thoughts. Lady Rambeau entered, her usual composed expression softening slightly as her gaze settled on you. 

“Princess,” she said, bowing her head, “the carriage is being prepared. It will be time soon.”

You nodded, your hands clenching and unclenching in your lap. Your heart was a storm, the events of the past days swirling together with the impending reality of the ceremony. This is it, you thought. There was no more time for questions, no more time for doubts.

Lady Rambeau approached, sensing the nervousness in you. “You look every bit the queen,” she said quietly, offering a rare, almost motherly smile. “His Majesty will be pleased.”

You swallowed, your heart stuttering at the mention of Bucky. Bucky. How strange it felt to think of him as both the man you had kissed, the man whose touch had ignited something deep within you, and the king you were about to marry. The man who was still so much of a mystery to you, though the connection you felt with him was undeniable.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice soft, your mind too tangled with emotion to say more.

The doors of your chamber opened again, and in walked Captain Rogers, looking as composed and stoic as always, but when his gaze landed on you, he froze, his eyes widening with something akin to awe.

For a moment, he seemed at a loss for words, and then his expression softened, his voice coming out quieter than usual. “Princess…” He cleared his throat, his gaze sweeping over you once more. “You look... radiant.”

His compliment caught you off guard, and you felt a faint blush creep up your cheeks. “Thank you, Captain,” you murmured, unable to suppress a small smile. There was something endearing about seeing the usually composed Captain Rogers momentarily taken aback.

He gave you a small, respectful nod before regaining his usual composure. “It is time,” he said, though his voice was still tinged with admiration.

Lady Rambeau stepped back, allowing you space, and Captain Rogers extended his arm toward you. “Shall I escort you?”

You hesitated only a moment before placing your hand in his. His arm was strong and steady, a rock amidst the storm that churned within you.

Captain Rogers led you down the grand staircase and out to the courtyard where the carriage awaited. Its intricate design was fit for a royal wedding, adorned with fresh flowers and draped in soft velvet. The horses were restless, sensing the energy of the day, and the servants moved with ease, making final adjustments.

As you reached the bottom step, Captain Rogers assisted you into the carriage, his hand still steady as he helped you settle into the seat. Lady Rambeau followed behind, ensuring everything was in place before stepping aside.

Captain Rogers gave you one final look before closing the door. “You will be magnificent, Princess,” he said, his tone filled with quiet confidence. “And His Majesty will be waiting.”

You smiled softly, trying to calm the flurry of nerves that danced in your chest. “Thank you, Captain.”

With a nod, he stepped back, and the driver clicked his reins, the carriage lurching forward toward the abbey where your future awaited.

The ride was quiet, the only sounds were the clatter of hooves against the cobblestone streets and the soft rustling of your gown as you shifted. Through the windows, you caught glimpses of the city—banners flying high, people lining the streets to catch a glimpse of the royal procession. Their cheers and waves were a blur, but their excitement was palpable, filling the air with a sense of anticipation.

As the carriage approached the abbey, your heart began to race. The towering spires of the grand stone building loomed ahead, casting long shadows across the cobbled courtyard. The doors of the abbey were open, revealing the grand aisle that stretched toward the altar where Bucky would be waiting.

The carriage came to a slow halt, and you took a deep breath, steadying yourself as the door opened. Captain Rogers appeared once again, offering his hand to help you down.

“Are you ready, Princess?” he asked, his tone as steady as his hand.

You nodded, though your heart felt as if it were about to burst from your chest. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

Captain Rogers smiled softly, and as you stepped out of the carriage, he guided you toward the abbey’s entrance. The distance between you and the altar felt both infinite and fleeting. The weight of your gown, the gaze of the crowd—it was all overwhelming, yet the thought of Bucky waiting for you at the end of the aisle gave you strength.

The inner doors of the abbey slowly creaked open, revealing the breathtaking sight before you. The soft sound of music swelled through the vast stone hall, a hauntingly beautiful melody echoing off the towering pillars. As you took your first step inside, delicate flower petals, pale pinks and whites, drifted down from the ceiling, falling like a gentle rain around you, each petal kissing the floor at your feet.

The entire kingdom seemed to be watching, every gaze fixed on you as you stood framed by the grand doorway. Your heart raced, each beat thundering in your chest as you took in the magnitude of the moment. The aisle stretched out long before you, lined with noblemen and women from across the kingdom, their eyes wide with anticipation. But none of them mattered.

Because at the end of the aisle, waiting by the altar, stood James.

His regal form was clad in the finest ceremonial attire, gold embroidery gleaming against the dark velvet of his tunic. He looked every bit the king he was, tall and powerful, but his gaze—his gaze was solely on you. As the flower petals fluttered down, his expression softened, his lips curving into the smallest, most tender smile. His blue eyes, usually so guarded, were filled with warmth, a quiet awe that sent a rush of emotion surging through you.

You inhaled deeply, gathering your strength. You were walking alone, without an arm to hold, without anyone to guide you. This moment was yours to face. And with each step you took, you felt the weight of the gown, the tiara on your head, the delicate lace of your veil—all of it settling over you like a mantle of responsibility and power.

The crowd whispered in reverent awe, but their voices seemed like distant echoes as you walked forward, the petals beneath your feet crinkling softly with every step. The aisle felt both endless and too short, time stretching and compressing. But you kept your head high, your gaze locked on James, the silent thread between you pulling you closer with every heartbeat.

As you drew nearer, you could see the way his eyes shimmered, as if he, too, felt the enormity of the moment. His posture was regal, composed, but there was something in his expression—something that told you he was as affected by this as you were.

With each step, the world around you faded. The grandeur of the abbey, the watching crowd, the petals—they all became background to the electric pull between you and James.

Finally, you reached the end of the aisle. Your breath hitched, heart pounding, as you came to stand before him. For a moment, everything else fell away. It was just you and him.

James’s hand extended toward you, his touch warm, his smile soft and full of something deeper than words. “Y/N,” he whispered, his voice low, meant only for you. “You’re captivating.”

A flush crept up your neck, you were about to become his queen. You were about to take your place at his side—not just as a bride, but as his equal, his partner.

You gazed deeply into the most bewitching blue eyes, in the way his hand held yours so carefully, you knew that whatever doubts you had carried—about the kingdom, about him—they had no place here. Today, there was only you and Bucky, standing together at the threshold of something far greater than either of you could have imagined.

Bucky’s eyes never left yours, as if he were searching for something—reassurance, perhaps, or some unspoken promise. His fingers, warm and steady, curled gently around yours, grounding you in the midst of your racing thoughts.

The officiant’s voice cut through the air, ceremonious and strong, pulling you back to the present, though Bucky’s gaze still tethered you in place.

“Today, we bear witness to the union of our King, James Buchanan Barnes the third and his chosen bride, Princess Y/N of Zienna, a bond that not only joins two hearts but solidifies the foundation upon which this kingdom shall flourish.”

The words washed over you, powerful yet distant, as if they belonged to someone else’s story. And as you stood there, facing Bucky, you realized that while this was the culmination of the court’s expectations and the kingdom’s future, it was also more than that.

It was about him.

And you.

Bucky’s thumb brushed lightly against the back of your hand, a small, intimate gesture that sent warmth flooding through you. You met his gaze, and in that moment, something shifted. The doubt, the fear that had haunted you for weeks, seemed to dissolve under the intensity of his silent promise.

“Princess Y/N,” the officiant’s voice drew you back, “do you take King James as your husband, to honor and stand by him for the good of this kingdom and for all the days of your life?”

Your heart stilled for a fraction of a second, and then, with a steady breath, you nodded.

“I do,” you said softly. It wasn’t just a vow to the kingdom or its expectations; it was a vow to Bucky, the man beneath the crown, the man you were beginning to see more clearly with every passing moment.

The officiant turned to Bucky. “And do you, Your Majesty, take Princess Y/N as your wife, to cherish, protect, and honor her, for the good of this kingdom and for all the days of your life?”

Bucky’s gaze never wavered. His voice, low and steady, seemed to echo through the hall, even though he spoke just for you. “I do.”

As the officiant began the final blessings, you barely heard the words. All that mattered was Bucky’s hand in yours, the gentle press of his thumb against your skin, the warmth of his presence. And in his eyes, you saw it clearly—this was not just duty for him either. There was something deeper, something neither of you had fully acknowledged yet, but it was there, undeniable and magnetic.

“By the power vested in me,” the officiant declared, “I now pronounce you husband and wife.”

The abbey seemed to hold its breath. The world, once again, shrank to just the two of you.

Bucky took a slow step closer, his hand still entwined with yours. His gaze dropped briefly to your lips before meeting your eyes again, something flickering in his expression—anticipation. He leaned down, his movements careful, as though savoring the moment, and pressed a kiss to your lips.

It wasn’t a ceremonial kiss. It wasn’t for show.

It was the kiss of a man who had been waiting, yearning for this moment. His lips were warm, his touch tender yet filled with a quiet passion that left your heart racing all over again. The crowd faded away once more, the applause distant and faint, as you melted into him, your hand tightening around his.

When Bucky pulled back, his forehead rested briefly against yours, his breath warm against your skin. “You’re mine now,” he whispered softly, just for you. There was no arrogance in his voice, only a raw honesty that sent shivers down your spine.

“I am,” you whispered back, your voice barely audible, but the words hung between you, carrying a promise that went far beyond this day.

Bucky’s lips quirked into a small smile, his eyes alight with something warm, something real. And as you both turned to face the crowd, ready to walk back down the aisle as husband and wife, you knew—whatever challenges lay ahead, whatever doubts or fears still lingered, you would face them together.

× × × × 

The grand hall was alive with music and laughter, the sounds of celebration echoing off the high ceilings. Glittering chandeliers cast a warm, golden glow across the room, illuminating the hundreds of guests who had gathered to celebrate the royal union. The air was filled with the scent of fresh flowers and fine wine, mingling with the soft murmur of conversation and the occasional burst of laughter.

You stood at the edge of the dance floor, a glass of champagne in hand, watching as couples twirled in elegant dances, their gowns and suits a blur of color and movement. The weight of the tiara on your head reminded you of your new role, but it felt strangely lighter now, after the vows had been spoken, after the kiss that still lingered on your lips.

Across the room, Bucky stood among a group of nobles, listening to their conversation with polite attentiveness. But his gaze kept drifting back to you, his watchful eyes never leaving your figure for too long. There was a tension in the way he stood, a quiet possessiveness in the way he observed you, as if even from this distance, he wanted to be sure you were safe, that you were comfortable.

You could feel his gaze burning on you, and it sent a flutter through your chest. He hadn’t been far from your side all night, his presence a constant reassurance, a steady anchor amidst the whirlwind of festivities. And though you hadn’t had much time to speak since the ceremony, every glance, every brief touch of his hand against yours, felt like a promise that this night was only the beginning.

A soft voice at your side drew your attention back to the present. “Your Majesty.”

Lady Rambeau appeared at your elbow, her expression as composed as ever, through her eyes held a hint of warmth. “There are a few ladies I’d like you to meet,” she said, her tone formal but respectful.

You nodded, grateful for the distraction. “Of course.”

She gestured toward a small group of women approaching from the other side of the room. As they drew nearer, you recognized them from their noble houses, each of them a prominent figure in the kingdom. But there was something more about them—an air of confidence, of grace and power—that set them apart from the other courtiers.

“These are some of the finest ladies in court,” Lady Rambeau continued, her voice lowering slightly as they approached. “They will be valuable allies to you, my Queen.”

The first woman stepped forward, her striking red hair catching the light as she offered you a small, respectful curtsy. “Lady Natasha Romanoff, Your Majesty,” she introduced herself, her voice smooth and controlled, though her sharp eyes seemed to take in everything at once. “It is an honor to serve the queen.”

You smiled, feeling the weight of her words and the strength behind them. “The honor is mine, Lady Natasha. I look forward to getting to know you better.”

Next, a woman with dark, piercing eyes and an aura of quiet intensity stepped forward, offering a graceful curtsy. “Lady Wanda Maximoff,” she said, her voice soft but filled with a certain gravity. “If ever you have the need for my skills, my Queen, they are at your disposal.”

You nodded, sensing something deeper in her words, though you couldn’t quite place it. “Thank you, Lady Wanda. I appreciate your support.”

Finally, a woman with an air of calm authority and intelligence stepped forward, her blonde hair elegantly styled. She smiled warmly at you, her eyes twinkling with a quiet humor. “Lady Virginia Potts, Your Majesty. I oversee many of the palace affairs, so if you ever need anything, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

You returned her smile, feeling instantly at ease with her. “I will certainly keep that in mind, Lady Virginia. Thank you.”

Lady Rambeau stepped back slightly, allowing you to take in the moment, surrounded by these powerful women who had now become your allies. There was a sense of reassurance in their presence, a reminder that while this role may be daunting, you were not alone.

As you exchanged a few more pleasantries, you felt Bucky’s gaze on you once again, a protective and possessive energy that seemed to radiate from him even across the crowded hall. You glanced over your shoulder, catching his eyes from across the room.

He gave you a small, knowing smile, his eyes flicking toward Lady Natasha, Wanda, and Pepper as if to acknowledge their presence before returning to you. There was a promise in his gaze—a promise that he would always be watching over you, no matter where you were or who you were with.

You turned toward Natasha, who was observing the room with sharp, calculating eyes. "It’s a lot to take in, isn’t it?" you asked, your voice soft but holding a hint of amusement. The grandeur of the evening, the weight of the crown on your head, the people all watching—it was overwhelming, and yet, there was a certain thrill in it.

Natasha’s lips tugged into a small smile, her gaze flicking back to you. “It is. But I imagine you’re used to holding your own.” 

“I’m learning quickly, I suppose.” You smiled back, appreciating the compliment. 

“I don’t doubt it,” Natasha replied smoothly. “You’ll find the court can be... an interesting place. But if you play your cards right, you’ll have allies in all the right places.” There was a sharpness to her words, a subtle warning about the political nature of the people around you. But beneath it, you could sense her offering her support—her expertise.

Pepper leaned in slightly, her tone warm and filled with humor. “What Natasha means is that while the court can be a bit of a battlefield, there’s no need to navigate it alone. The three of us, well,” she gave a small shrug, “we’ve had our fair share of skirmishes.”

Wanda nodded, her dark eyes studying you with quiet intensity. “The court is full of whispers and schemes. People will say anything to sway your favor.” Her voice was soft, but there was a firm resolve behind it. “But when you surround yourself with people who have your back, the noise becomes just that—noise.”

You took a sip of your champagne, letting their words sink in. It was comforting, in a way, to know that these women had been through the same games you were just beginning to experience. You had already seen the sharp edges of the court with Sharon and Leah—how they used rumors and backhanded comments to try to shake you. 

Pepper glanced at you, her eyes twinkling with understanding. “I’m sure you’ve already had a taste of how competitive some of the women can be.” She raised an eyebrow knowingly. “Sharon and Leah, I imagine?”

A soft laugh escaped you before you could stop it, and you nodded. “You could say that. They’ve been… welcoming in their own way.”

“Welcoming. . .That’s one way to put it.” Wanda exchanged a glance with Natasha, a faint smirk tugging at her lips.

“Don’t worry about them. They’re just... testing the waters. Seeing if you’re as strong as you look.” She paused, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “I have a feeling they’ll be disappointed.”

 “I certainly hope so.” You couldn’t help but grin at Natasha’s confidence in you.

Pepper leaned in a little closer, her voice dropping slightly, though there was still a playful edge to it. “If you ever need a little extra... assistance in handling those types, just let us know. We’ve got plenty of experience dealing with difficult people.”

Wanda’s gaze softened, sensing your internal struggle. “Don’t let them intimidate you. You are the queen now, and that holds power. But more importantly, you have us.” She gestured to the women around you. “We’ve all been through our own trials. We know what it’s like to navigate these treacherous waters.”

Natasha nodded in agreement, her voice quieter now, more sincere. “And we’ve made it through to the other side. You will too.”

You felt a warmth spread through your chest at their words. It wasn’t just the alliance they were offering—it was genuine friendship, the kind of support that went beyond titles and formalities.

“Thank you,” you said softly, your voice laced with gratitude. “I didn’t expect to find this kind of... connection here.”

Pepper placed a gentle hand on your arm, her expression kind. “We look out for each other. That’s how we survive.”

They exchanged glances, their shared smiles filled with a mixture of amusement and affection, and you felt a deep sense of belonging in their presence. It wasn’t just about surviving court anymore—it was about thriving.

Pepper gave a mock sigh, shaking her head with a smile. “Honestly, I’m surprised there hasn’t been any drama tonight. Though, with Sharon and Leah, it’s only a matter of time.”

Wanda chuckled softly. “Perhaps they’re waiting for the right moment. You know they love an audience.”

Just as the laughter between you and the ladies began to fade, a warm presence approached from behind, sending a shiver of awareness down your spine. You didn’t need to turn to know who it was. The subtle shift in the air, the quiet command of the space—Bucky.

You glanced over your shoulder, your heart giving an unbidden flutter as his deep blue eyes met yours. He wore that easy smile, the one that made it seem like he was perfectly comfortable with the world, though you knew there was more to it than that.

"Ladies," Bucky greeted smoothly, giving a small but respectful nod to Natasha, Wanda, and Pepper. "I hope I’m not interrupting anything too important." His gaze lingered on you, a playful glint in his eyes.

Natasha raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Nothing you couldn’t improve upon, Your Majesty.”

Bucky chuckled, his eyes flicking to each of them before settling back on you. “In that case, I wonder if I might steal my wife away for a dance?”

You could feel the amusement radiating from the women beside you, but it was Pepper who spoke first, her tone light and teasing. “By all means, Your Majesty. Just don’t keep her too long. We were just getting to the fun part.”

Wanda smirked, adding, “We wouldn’t want her to forget where her real loyalties lie.”

“I’ll do my best to have her back before you can miss her.” Bucky chuckled again, his hand extended toward you, palm up, his gaze softening as it locked onto yours.

You couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips, warmth spreading through you as you placed your hand in his. His fingers curled around yours, firm yet gentle, and the simple touch sent a wave of anticipation through you.

“I’ll be back soon,” you promised the ladies, though your attention was already fully on Bucky.

Bucky gently led you away from the group, to the dance floor, you felt the world begin to fade away, leaving only the two of you.

The music swelled around you, the soft notes of the waltz filling the air like a gentle breeze, but it was Bucky’s presence that consumed you. His hand was warm and sure at your waist, the other cradling your hand as he guided you effortlessly across the floor. His touch, the closeness, made your heart race with an unfamiliar but welcomed thrill.

You looked up at him, meeting his gaze, and the corners of his mouth lifted into that boyish smile that always made your pulse quicken.

“You seem deep in thought, Y/N,” he teased lightly, his voice a soft rumble, the glint in his eyes mischievous.

“I was thinking,” you replied, feigning seriousness, “how lucky I am that you haven’t stepped on my gown yet.”

Bucky chuckled, the sound low and warm, and without warning, he spun you, pulling you back to him with a flourish that made you gasp in surprise. You stumbled slightly, but his arms tightened around you, pulling you against his chest.

“I’d never let that happen,” he murmured, his lips dangerously close to your ear, his breath sending shivers down your spine. “You’re far too precious for me to misstep.”

Your laughter bubbled up, light and carefree, filling the space between you. It was strange how easy it was to laugh with him, how quickly he could disarm your nerves, making the weight of the evening feel like nothing.

As the music slowed, he leaned in and placed a soft kiss on your temple, the tender gesture sending a wave of warmth through you. His hand, still at your waist, slipped slightly lower, pulling you closer as he whispered, “I think you owe me a dance every day for the rest of our lives, don’t you think?”

You grinned up at him, your heart soaring. “Every day? I thought kings were supposed to be busy ruling kingdoms.”

Bucky’s eyes gleamed with affection, his lips brushing your forehead this time. “For you, I’ll always find the time.”

Before you could respond, he spun you again, your skirts flaring out around you as you twirled. You giggled, completely caught up in the moment, in him. When you came back to him, he caught you easily, his grip firm and strong, and you couldn’t stop the laughter that escaped you.

“There’s that laugh. You should smile more often. It suits you.” He smiled down at you, his gaze tender, his thumb brushing your cheek. 

Your cheeks flushed under his gaze, the butterflies in your stomach refusing to settle. His eyes held something deeper, something that made you feel as though you were the only two people in the room.

Without another word, he leaned down and kissed the corner of your mouth, his lips lingering for just a moment longer than necessary. Then, as if unable to resist, he placed another kiss on your cheek, then one at your jaw, and finally one just below your ear.

“James!” you gasped, though your laughter betrayed you as you squirmed in his arms, the playful affection catching you off guard.

He laughed, a low, rich sound, his breath warm against your skin as he whispered, “I can’t help myself. You look too alluring tonight.”

You couldn’t stop the blush that crept up your neck, but you leaned into him, resting your head against his chest for just a moment, allowing yourself to melt into the warmth of his embrace. His heartbeat was steady beneath your ear, a comforting rhythm that matched the sway of your bodies as you danced.

As the music slowed to a gentle hum, Bucky’s hand slid up to cradle the back of your neck, his thumb brushing the soft skin there. He tilted your chin up, his eyes soft but filled with that same playful affection.

“Have I told you tonight how lucky I am to have you by my side?” His voice was a low whisper, meant just for you.

You smiled, feeling your heart swell. “No, this is the first.”

“I’ll make it a hundred before the night is over.” He grinned, his thumb gently tracing your jawline. 

Before you could reply, he pressed his lips to yours, the kiss slow, tender, and full of unspoken promises. It wasn’t the hurried, stolen kiss from before—it was on purpose as if he were reminding you that despite all the eyes watching, this moment was just yours.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead resting against yours, he whispered, “I’ve been waiting all night to be with you.”

“And now you are,” you murmured, feeling the warmth of his breath against your lips.

His lips brushed yours again in response, a feather-light touch that left you breathless. And as the music faded and the evening stretched on, the two of you swayed together, the rest of the world melting away in the warmth of his touch and the quiet, intimate moments you shared.

For the first time all night, you weren’t just the queen and her king. You were simply Bucky and Y/N—two souls bound by something far deeper than titles or crowns.

× × × × 

From your position on the dance floor with Bucky, you caught glimpses of the other guests enjoying the festivities, but it was Captain Rogers who caught your attention. He stood near the edge of the room, his eyes drifting—not to the crowds or the dancing couples—but to Lady Natasha.

For most of the evening, you had noticed him, his gaze lingering on her with a quiet, almost tentative intensity. Steve Rogers was many things—brave, honorable, and steadfast—but when it came to matters of the heart, it seemed he was not as confident. Natasha, for her part, appeared entirely unaware, laughing and speaking with Wanda and Pepper, graceful as always.

But then there was Sharon, standing not far from Steve, her eyes on him, watching his every move. You could see it in her posture, the subtle tilt of her head, the way her fingers gripped her glass—she thought his attention was on her. It wasn’t difficult to guess where this was heading, and the tension of it made your heart race for reasons entirely different from the dance.

Beside you, Bucky must have sensed your distraction, because he leaned down and murmured, “What’s caught your eye, my Queen?”

You smiled, tilting your head slightly toward Steve. “I think Captain Rogers is about to make a move.”

Bucky followed your gaze, his lips quirking into a knowing grin. “About time. He’s been staring at her like a lost puppy all night.”

You chuckled softly, watching as Steve squared his shoulders, his resolve clearly building as he took a deep breath and started toward Natasha. The room seemed to slow, the moment stretched out as he approached her, his expression carefully composed but with a hint of nervousness beneath the surface.

But just as Steve was a few steps away from Natasha, Sharon stepped forward, a bright smile lighting up her face, clearly under the impression that he was coming for her. She reached out, her fingers brushing his arm in what she must have thought was a gentle, flirtatious gesture.

“Captain Rogers,” Sharon greeted warmly, her voice lilting. “I was just wondering if—”

Steve, clearly caught off guard, blinked at her in confusion, his eyes flickering quickly from Sharon to Natasha, who had just turned and was watching the interaction with a raised eyebrow.

Sharon’s smile faltered slightly, but she pressed on, her tone hopeful. “Would you like to dance?”

Steve's gaze flickered toward Natasha, who stood not far from him, her expression composed but with that ever-present sharpness in her eyes. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but then his eyes caught sight of Sharon’s father, Lord Carter, watching the scene unfold from the corner of the room. The older man’s gaze was piercing, his posture stern and authoritative.

Steve hesitated, his throat tightening. He was well aware of the power Lord Carter wielded within the court, the weight of his opinion, and how much sway he held over many matters—both spoken and unspoken. His glance darted back to Sharon’s expectant expression, her eyes wide with anticipation.

For a heartbeat, the room seemed to hold its breath. Steve’s jaw clenched, his shoulders rigid as he fought with himself internally. And then, as if a decision was made for him, he forced a smile and nodded. 

“Yes, of course.” he said simply, offering his hand.

Sharon’s face lit up with a brilliant smile, and she slipped her hand into his, her gaze flickering triumphantly to Natasha for just a fraction of a second. Lord Carter nodded approvingly from his spot, his face easing into a look of satisfaction.

But as Steve led Sharon to the dance floor, his eyes found Natasha one last time. The disappointment in her gaze, so well hidden behind her cool demeanor, pierced him deeper than any wound ever had.

Bucky’s hand remained steady on your waist as you moved together, his gaze focused on you. But your attention wavered, drawn back to where Steve and Sharon now stood together on the dance floor. The way Sharon’s lips curved into a self-satisfied smile made something coil unpleasantly in your chest.

You kept your expression serene, eyes trained on them with the same polite interest expected of a queen surveying her court. The facade was perfect—no one would guess that beneath the surface, your feelings toward Lady Carter were far from friendly.

“Everything alright?” Bucky’s low murmur brought your focus back to him. He was watching you, his eyes filled with curiosity. He hadn’t noticed the brief flicker of disapproval in your gaze, hadn’t caught the way your fingers tightened slightly against his shoulder.

You smiled up at him, soft and unassuming. “Of course,” you replied lightly, matching his steps with effortless grace. “I was simply observing our Captain. It’s not often we see him… in such a position.”

Bucky’s gaze shifted briefly over your shoulder, a smirk tugging at his lips. “No, it’s not,” he agreed, amusement lacing his tone. “Poor Steve, stuck dancing with Lady Carter when it’s clear his mind is elsewhere.”

Your smile grew a touch tighter, but you nodded, letting out a soft, almost indifferent laugh. “Yes, quite the predicament,” you mused, keeping your voice light and even.

You knew Bucky wasn’t probing further—he was simply sharing an observation, unaware of the way Sharon’s presence grated against you like nails on silk. And you intended to keep it that way.

He spun you gently, your skirts sweeping elegantly around you, and you caught sight of Sharon’s face once more. She was speaking animatedly, leaning just a bit too close to Steve, clearly basking in whatever illusion she’d spun for herself.

You looked away before Bucky could follow your line of sight, turning your gaze to meet his instead. 

“Do you think they make a good match?” you asked the question casually and laced with just the right amount of interest.

Bucky shrugged slightly, his grip on you unwavering as he guided you through another smooth turn. 

“Steve can decide for himself,” he replied, a neutral smile on his lips. “But it’s obvious where his heart lies.”

You hummed softly, nodding as if merely considering his words. “I suppose so,” you murmured, then shifted the topic with ease, guiding the conversation away from Steve and Sharon.

As Bucky’s attention shifted fully to your words, your expression remained the picture of calm. Yet inwardly, your gaze flickered back to the dance floor, watching as Sharon leaned in, whispering something into Steve’s ear.

Your smile didn’t falter, not even for a second. But the disdain simmering beneath it was a quiet, insistent thing, buried beneath layers of grace and composure. Sharon could have her little victory tonight—it didn’t matter.

Because you knew exactly where Steve’s gaze would turn when the music ended, and it wouldn’t be on the lady currently in his arms.

× × × × 

The carriage wheels creaked softly beneath you as they rolled over the gravel path, the only sound filling the heavy silence between you and Bucky. You sat across from each other, the space that had once felt warm now stretched and distant. Bucky’s gaze was fixed out the window, his profile bathed in the soft moonlight, but his expression was unreadable. You had tried to break the silence once or twice, but each attempt had fallen flat, met with a polite nod or a quiet murmur. The joy and excitement from the wedding already felt like a distant memory, replaced by the weight of unspoken words and something heavier that lingered between you. The estate loomed ahead, but instead of excitement, a growing unease settled deep within your chest.

The estate stretched out before you, magnificent and imposing. The manicured gardens glistened in the fading light, and the grandeur of the manor seemed to stretch endlessly, its windows glowing like embers. As the carriage halted, Bucky disembarked first, extending a hand toward you. His touch, though familiar, carried an unusual stiffness that unsettled you.

As you stepped down, you glanced at him, uncertainty swirling in your chest. "Where exactly are we?"

Bucky’s lips curved slightly, the faintest hint of amusement in his eyes. His gaze drifted to the manor. "Well, what do you think?"

You took in the estate’s breathtaking beauty, momentarily distracted by its splendor. "It’s magnificent. Who resides here?"

Bucky’s gaze softened as he turned back to you. "I had it refurbished just for you."

Your heart stuttered in your chest, a warm flutter of surprise catching you off guard. "This is our home?" you asked, hope threading through your voice. "James..."

But Bucky’s expression faltered, his tone more measured. "It’s your home."

Confusion washed over you, your brow furrowing. "My home? What does that mean?"

"This is where you will live." Bucky’s eyes flickered briefly, avoiding yours.

A chill ran through you as his words sank in. "I’m not sure I follow," you said slowly, your voice laced with uncertainty. "If this is my house, then surely it is ours as well?"

Bucky’s face remained impassive, though his tone was distant. "Technically, St. Vincent’s Palace is our residence. But here, this is where you will stay."

Your pulse quickened. "And where will you stay?" you asked, feeling the weight of his reply before he even spoke.

Bucky’s jaw tightened slightly. "I have an estate in Annecy."

A sinking feeling settled in your stomach. "So, you intend to live in Annecy?"

"Yes."

"And I’m to live here?"

"Yes."

Your chest tightened as you stared at him, disbelief clouding your thoughts. "But it’s our wedding night."

"It’s late," Bucky said, calmly, almost too calm. "You’ve been traveling. You should go inside, meet the staff, rest. You’ll need your strength for the coming days."

You shook your head, frustration bubbling to the surface. "No, James. It’s our wedding night. We’ve just been married." Your voice dropped, your cheeks flushing slightly. "Aren’t we supposed to spend the night together? Is that not what married couples do?"

Bucky’s expression hardened, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Are you asking me to perform my marital duties to you?"

You blinked, caught off guard. "I’m not asking anything," you replied, your voice wavering. "I just thought... Isn’t this the night we’re meant to spend together? My governess always said that’s how it’s done. . . That it’s important."

He let out a heavy sigh, the tension in his shoulders palpable. "Very well," he muttered, turning abruptly toward the entrance. "I’ll stay then."

"James!" you called, quickening your pace to follow him.

"I said I’ll stay," he repeated curtly, his strides long and deliberate. "Are you coming or not?"

The staff clapped politely as you entered the grand foyer together, but your mind was elsewhere, trying to make sense of what was happening. 

"James, slow down," you pleaded, your voice rising as you hurried after him. "I can’t keep up with you."

He came to a sudden halt, turning to face you, frustration etched into every line of his face. "You wanted me in the bedroom. Isn’t that what you were asking for?"

You froze at his words, the intensity of his gaze making your heart race. "No."

His brow furrowed. "No?"

"Not if you’re going to act like this," you said, your voice trembling. "You’re upset. What have I done? If I’ve offended you in any way, I’m sorry—"

Bucky’s expression softened, but there was still tension in his stance, his left hand flexing. "You haven’t done anything wrong," he said quietly, though his voice carried the weight of something unspoken. "It’s just... I’m comfortable in Annecy."

Your heart clenched. "Then let’s go to Annecy together."

Bucky shook his head. "No. You’re staying here."

"Why?" you asked, searching his face for answers. "You don’t want me to go with you?"

"This is your home," he said firmly, his tone final.

You felt the distance between you grow with every word. "My home. . ."

"Yes."

Silence stretched between you, thick and heavy. "I see."

Bucky exhaled, his shoulders relaxing slightly as he nodded. "Good. Then everything is settled."

But nothing felt settled. Not at all. "No. No, it is not settled." you said, your voice cracking in utter confusion. One moment he couldn’t get his hands off you, this sudden change was too difficult to let go. "James, is this what our marriage will be? Us living separately?"

"Yes," he replied, his voice steady but detached.

"Why?" you whispered, tears threatening to well in your eyes.

He hesitated for a moment before answering, "I thought it would be... easier this way."

"For whom?" you asked, the pain in your voice evident. "For you? Or for me?"

Bucky’s patience frayed, his tone sharpening. "I’m not having this discussion with you."

You stepped closer, your voice pleading. "I just want to understand. Please, tell me why—"

"I don’t need to explain anything!" Bucky’s voice thundered, his frustration boiling over. "I’m the one who decides, and I have decided. Are you forgetting that I am your KING?!"

His words hit you like a physical blow, your heart shattering. You stepped back, your voice trembling as you dropped into a low curtsy. 

"Forgive me, Your Majesty," you said quietly, your head bowed in deference. "I thought you were just James."

Bucky’s expression fell, regret flickering across his face. He reached out for you, his voice softer now. "Y/N, please—"

But you pulled back, avoiding his touch. The guard you thought you’d lowered, the tentative trust you were building—everything slammed back up, a fortress around your heart. You were foolish enough to think you were getting to know him better.

 It was clear now how wrong you were.

"May I take my leave, Your Majesty? Or do you have more to say?" Your voice was brittle.

Bucky’s hand dropped to his side, a look of defeat crossing his features. "Y/N... you don’t understand, this is for the best."

You swallowed hard, forcing a brittle smile as you nodded. "Of course, Your Majesty," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "Whatever you wish. I shall rest now. I wish you a safe trip to Annecy."

With that, you turned and walked away, the echo of your footsteps haunting the grand hall as you left him standing there, the distance between you stretching wider than ever.

Love always blew up in your face, shattering whatever good you’d dared to believe in. You were a fool to believe that it wouldn’t go south in the worst way this quickly.

Each step you took, you buried the yearning, the desperation to reach out and demand more from him—from what you could be together.

Instead, you rebuilt the walls. You raised the drawbridge.

And you vowed to tread carefully with your emotions when it comes to him.

[missvelvetsstuff]

No Benefits

Bucky Barnes x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Sharon Carter

Summary: Reader and Bucky are best friends until a drunken hook up. Bucky wants a friends with benefits situation because he doesn't feel ready for a relationship but reader knows that will lead to a broken heart.

Then Sharon Carter comes to work with them.

Notes: Steve and Tony are around but retired, everything else is mostly canon

I try to keep my Reader description vague but she's a she and above average height

Here goes nothing

Chapter 1

Warnings: Swearing, mostly angst, eventual happy ending.

Y/N, or Cookie to her friends, was at her desk, trying to finish her report so she could leave work early for one of Tony Stark's parties. This wasn't her first time but tonight her bff and mostly secret crush, Bucky Barnes, was escorting her. It wasn't the first time for that either but tonight felt different. Usually they met at the elevator but when they spoke earlier he said he would pick her up at her room. They had been getting closer in the last few months and even Steve and Sam had commented about Bucky's behavior towards her.

The night was everything she had dreamed, Bucky was attentive and always had his hands on her, respectfully of course but more intimate than he usually was. They danced much of the night and when slow songs came on he pulled her close and she could feel his breath on her neck, causing chills.

Towards the end of the night, Bucky pulled her to the elevator and kissed her until they reached his floor. They were in his room, her dress gone before she could think twice, not that she would have.

She could taste the Asgardian ale on his breath, blending with the tequila on hers. Everything was a blur of flesh and feelings she had never experienced before. She couldn't get enough, neither could he.

Y/N opened her eyes to bright light and a bedroom that wasn't hers. The pounding in her head a reminder of how much she drank last night. She looked around and realized it was Bucky's room, where she spent so much of her time. Suddenly, she realized that she was naked and her stomach dropped. She had hazy memories of shots and kisses that turned into more. The kiss in the elevator. She smiled even though her head hurt, she had been crushing on Bucky since the day they met and was amazed that he actually wanted her too.

Cookie wasn't your typical beauty, taller than most girls and with more curves than your typical agent. Of course, she wasn't a field agent but was the lead intelligence analyst on the east coast reporting directly to Maria Hill.

She reached over to find his side of the bed was cool but figured he must have gone on his morning run with Steve and Sam. She sat up and saw a bottle of water next to some pain killers, which she downed, grateful that Bucky was so thoughtful. Drinking the entire bottle of water she realized she really needed to pee. Standing slowly so as not to irritate her headache she grabbed one of Bucky's t-shirts to cover herself and went to relieve herself. When she was done she went back to sit up in bed and check her emails for today's agenda.

When she was responding to a message from Maria Hill the suite door opened and Bucky came in, sweaty and gorgeous. He saw her curled up on his bed and smiling up at him.

"Morning Buck. Good run?"

He nodded and smirked "Yeah, Sam whined at us to wait up but we just lapped him until he shut up"

"Sounds fun. Since it's Sunday and nothing is scheduled, why don't you take a shower and come back to bed?"

Bucky felt his heart stop "Look doll about last night. You know you're one of my best friends and I love you but I don't feel comfortable getting into a real relationship right now. I still have so much work to do on myself. Last night was great and I was thinking we could have one of those friends with extras, or whatever it's called. You know, to blow off steam."

Her stomach dropped and she felt her eyes filling up "You mean friends with benefits?"

He nodded enthusiastically "Yeah, that's it." he smiled hopefully.

Y/N was quiet for a minute before responding, was it worth the almost guaranteed heartbreak to have more nights like last night? She shook her head, unwilling to take that risk again.

"I'm sorry Buck but I can't do that. I get attached and end up heartbroken. I can't sleep with people that I don't have romantic feelings for."

His eyes grew wide "Wait, that means you have feelings...." He trailed off.

She nodded whispering "Yeah, I do."

Bucky's face dropped "Shit, Cookie, I'm sorry. I thought we were on the same page last night. I don't know what to say. I mean, I might develop feelings over time but I don't know. I don't want to make any promises, you know?"

She swallowed the sob that tried to escape "You don't have to say anything, we can just pretend this never happened. Ok?"

She got up from the bed, clutching the sheet to her and desperately searching for her dress from last night. When she found it she quickly put it on not realizing it was inside out.

He nodded but wasn't feeling too sure of that, he could hear her heart speed up and see her hands shaking "Yeah, sure, nothing has to change."

She smiled at him sadly, tears escaping "I uh I just remembered some paperwork I needed to finish up. I'll catch you later."

"Wait doll. I-"

"Don't worry it's fine." She cleared her throat "I could use a little space and just have work to do." She kissed him on the cheek before rushing out.

Bucky stood there, not sure how to proceed. He didn't want to lose his friend but really didn't feel like he could handle a relationship now. The stress relief from the great sex they had was something he could handle and he did have feelings for her, since the day he arrived at the compound but he knew she deserved a better man than him.

**Flashback**

Y/N was in her office reviewing some reports to glean even the smallest details before they went to the appropriate briefing packets that the field agents would use to form their strategy, when she received a text from Captain America himself, requesting her presence in the common area.

She put away all of the classified info on her desk, locked it and locked the door on her way out. She took the elevator which opened into the common area and was surprised to see a large group of agents already there.

She heard Steve shout her name "Cookie! Over here." and saw his hand waving so headed in his direction.

Steve gave her a hug and pulled away excitedly "Look Cookie, it's my friend, Bucky."

Cookie smiled and offered her hand. When Bucky looked at her she felt her breath catch, holy shit was he gorgeous, way hotter than the pictures in his file "Pleased to meetcha Sargent Barnes"

Both of them felt sparks when they touched but Bucky responded like she had burned him pulling away quickly. Cookie's smile dropped for a second before she forced it back.

Bucky looked at her through his long hair "You too, ma'am."

She could see how he was shrinking into himself, trying to look smaller so she stepped back to give him space.

Steve looked at them both oddly but smiled softly when he heard how fast her heart was beating and the slight blush on Bucky's face. That was a look he remembered from so many years ago, when Bucky met Dot.

**end flashback**

The next few weeks were tense, Y/N and Bucky barely spoke outside of Avengers business. He was always busy, rushing to train or something every time she tried to talk to him. The guilt on his face showed everything, he hated that he hurt her but missed their time together. As soon as he saw her look at him longingly, before she realized he was looking and wiped that look from her face, he had to leave. He hated himself because he knew it hurt her more every time he avoided her but he just couldn't handle seeing her and being reminded of the pain he caused.

There were other, senior agents being trained by Steve, with Bucky and Sam, to prepare for an upcoming mission. Sifting through all the related Intel was keeping Y/N up at night and her haggard appearance had been noticed by most of the team.

They had a meeting to start going over the Intel to plan their strategy. On her way in, Y/N ran into Sharon Carter who she had worked with previously.

"Hey Agent Carter, good to see you."

Sharon laughed softly "Please, Y/N, we've worked together enough for you to call me Sharon."

Y/N laughed awkwardly "Um yeah, Sharon. So how have you been? Any luck finding the power broker?"

Sharon shook her head obviously frustrated "No, he's crafty for sure but we'll get him. Rumor is this mission relates to him."

Y/N nodded, "yeah, all of the serious crime in eastern Europe seem to lead back to him." She looked up and saw Nick Fury striding towards them and straightened her shoulders "Director Fury."

He nodded at her "Agent Y/L/N. Carter. Why don't we get this started, Cookie." He looked down at the container on top of her papers.

Y/N went to the front of the room to sit next to Fury's spot at the head of the table, setting the container in his place. She saw that Sharon sat next to Bucky and started talking to him, touching his right arm and laughing softly. Y/N saw Bucky smiling and felt her chest ache, her stomach cramp up and her throat dried since apparently all the water went to her eyes. She sat down and Sam, the only one who knew what happened with her and Bucky, gave her a sad smile and squeezed her hand.

They held hands through the entire meeting, Bucky and Sharon touching hands under the table. He never liked people touching him except for Y/N but apparently he made an exception for Sharon because he just sat smiling. He never even looked towards Y/N.

When the meeting ended, Bucky and Sharon were the first ones out the door as he quickly led her to his room.

Y/N could barely breathe and rushed to her own room, glad it was on a different floor from Bucky's because she didn't think she could handle hearing him and Sharon go at it.

For the next couple of months it went like that. Bucky and Sharon spending most of their time in his room and Y/N trying to stay busy so she didn't think about it. They were hands off outside of his room and insisted they were just friends when Sam mentioned they were always together. Bucky heard Sam grumble about how Y/N used to be the one he wanted to hang out with, but blew it off. Nothing wrong with having a couple of friends. And Y/N didn't want a casual relationship while Sharon was down for everything and was teaching Bucky a lot.

Sharon was friendly with Cookie in the beginning but started being nasty to Y/N, calling her names and throwing out barely veiled insults when Bucky wasn't around, and did everything she could to keep them apart. Not that Bucky ever seemed to notice, too wrapped up in the constant sex to see much else. Even at team functions Sharon worked to keep her away from Bucky, so much that Y/N just avoided the both of them when at all possible.

Y/N was depressed and missing her friend. She had lost weight and had dark circles under her eyes which she claimed were from working all hours. Time wasn't helping at all, she still had dreams about that night and felt an ache in her chest every time she saw Bucky. A couple of times he tried to talk to her, invite her for the movies nites that she never attended anymore but Sharon always started whining for him and Y/N took the hint and made excuses that she had paperwork or needed sleep, anything to avoid them.

Bucky, Sam and Sharon were offsite for a few days so Y/N could pour herself into work and not worry about running into them.

Late one night she was talking to one of her informants in Latvia and the connection was weak. She claimed to have the details on the Power Broker but static kept interfering with the connection.

Y/N heard banging

"Marta?! Marta are you ok? What's going on?"

There was more banging and a clicking noise then she heard Marta crying and begging.

A muffled womans voice came on the line "You better back off of the Power Broker or you will regret it"

Y/N was pissed "Who the Hell is this? Where's Marta? What did-" she heard a gunshot and the crying stopped.

The voice chuckled "She's unavailable and if you don't wise up, you will be too."

The call disconnected.

Y/N had tears in her eyes. She had met Marta a few years back, she had kids, a family. Now Y/N took that weight and swore to whoever was listening that she would make sure the Power Broker paid for this on top of all the other death and destruction.

Y/N refused to stop and eventually passed out on her laptop. She woke to a loud knocking "Y/N you in there? Fury got a package and wants you in his office 20 minutes ago."

Y/N sighed, Maria Hill. "I'll be down asap."

15 minutes later she was out of breath on her way into his office. "Cookie, there you are. I don't know who sent this but both of our names were on it so I'm hoping you know what's up."

Y/N looked over the package, Latvian stamp no return address. She sighed "Looks like it's from one of my informants in Latvia. I was on the phone with her last nite when she was shot. And a distorted womans voice told me to back off of the Power Broker or I'd be next."

Fury nodded "Alright well let's see what she had."

Y/N carefully opened the package which included a large white envelope that felt like it was full of pictures and a zip lock with a post-it that said 'fingerprints'.

Fury called an intern in to take the prints for processing as Y/N pulled out a stack of pictures. Her jaw dropped as her heart sped up and she began to shake. There was one thing the pictures all had in common......

Sharon fucking Carter.

Chapter 2

[urdepressedslut]

Protect me

♡ Pairing: tfatws!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

♡ Summary: With Zemo hanging around, you begin to feel very protective over Bucky.

♡ Warnings: fluff, angst, mentions of buckys trauma, anxiety attack

You were on edge ever since Zemo showed up, knowing what he put Bucky through made you feel extremely protective over him.

Your cheeks were flushed with rage, your nostrils flaring in attempt to hold yourself back from killing Zemo yourself. Zemo would try and be civil, starting small talk, being extra nice. You weren’t having any of it, you were snappy and short with him. Trying to keep conversation to a minimum, knowing that the second you opened your mouth, shit would go down.

Zemo found it hilarious and found the whole act to be entertaining. Now he was pestering you with dumb questions, making it his goal to get you to break. He found it pathetic that someone like you, was trying to protect someone like The Winter Soldier.

Bucky on the other hand found it adorable, and felt incredibly special with your protectiveness. His heart attempted to explode at every tiny gesture you’d make.

Always putting yourself in between him and Zemo. You changing the subject if Zemo tried to poke at Bucky’s trauma. Making sure you kept him reassured that he was okay. That the words don’t work on him anymore when he started to overthink.

All these things adding to the list of why he loves you.

Although Bucky loved seeing your protective side, he knew you were holding back much more than you were letting off. He could tell you were incredibly anxious, from the second Zemo joined their group.

He had made it clear that you didn’t have to be so strong for him, but you refused and kept up your guard. He knew that eventually things would get better, but for now he felt useless.

The air was thick with tension as Zemo did all the talking with Selby.

You were having a hard time holding yourself together, upset that Bucky had to portray The Winter Soldier again.

Selby kept giving you a judgmental side eye, making you nervous that she was growing suspicious. But otherwise didn’t push too much, and instead focused her attention on Bucky and Sam.

“What’s the offer?” Selby asked Zemo, smirking evilly.

“Tell us what you know about the super soldier serum,” Zemo starts, standing up to circle Bucky, “And I give you him. Along with the code words to control him, of course.”

Bucky doesn’t budge, standing still with an empty look on his face, staying in character. You clench your hands into fists at Zemo’s words, sneaking a look at Bucky and you swear you saw a hint of fear in his eyes.

Zemo continues to circle him, touching him as he makes rounds. Selby grins at his offer, making you sick to your stomach.

“He will do anything you want.” Zemo adds, caressing Bucky’s face. The words and actions had you seeing red, your chest tightening up.

Your nails dug into your palms, drawing crescent shaped cuts, blood starting to pool in your fist.

There was obviously a line that no one wanted to cross, and considering that this plan started over the line… It was too much for you. You couldn’t listen to Zemo talk about Bucky like he wasn’t even there, like he was an object.

Your nose tingled, the familiar warning that you were about to cry, and your fists shook slightly. Zemo and Selby kept talking, but to you it was all muffled.

This wasn’t the place or time to break down, and despite not being able to breathe well, you locked it away, not allowing any tears to fall.

—————————❂—————————

Someone had eventually shot Selby, and that someone ended up revealing themselves as Sharon Carter. One thing led to another, and now everyone was gathered at Sharon’s place.

Bucky had noticed quickly that you hadn’t spoken too much since before the interaction with Selby, and he had grown worried.

You looked paler to him, the gorgeous color in your cheeks gone. You were staring off into space if not listening in the conversation.

He figured it was going to be hard for you to see him back as The Winter Soldier, considering how protective you’ve been. But he was only acting, and he knew you knew that.

Bucky walked over to your staring form near the window, which had an incredible view but he doubted you were actually looking at it.

“Hey doll, you doing okay? You’ve been awfully quiet, which is not like you at all.” Bucky tried to lighten the mood, but barely saw you flinch from his attempt.

“Baby? Please talk to me.” He pleaded, growing more worried every second you stayed silent.

He wrapped his arms around your frame and it was then he felt you shaking. Pulling away he immediately scanned you over, taking in your balled up hands, noticing streaks of red leaking through the cracks of your fingers. Lastly, he could hear your pained wheezes, like you couldn’t breathe.

“Babydoll, I need you to look at me.” He told you softly, keeping his tone gentle.

Reaching out, he collected your fists into his palms, internally cheering when you moved your head to finally meet his eyes.

“There you are, now I need you to take a deep breath with me okay? C’mon baby, do it with me.” He told you slowly, and watched you take a tiny breath in, wincing when you strained your lungs to expand.

He coached you through a couple more breaths until you were taking in large gulps of air. It was like your brain finally allowed you to process everything as soon as you had enough oxygen.

“There we go, you did so well doll,” Bucky noticed your lip quivering, and watched tears gather in your eyes. “Oh baby, c’mere.”

He scooped you up into his arms, caging you with his embrace. Letting yourself feel the warmth of Bucky’s arms, you let out pained sobs, holding onto him like he was going to disappear.

“I was s-so scared.” She whimpered, causing Bucky to hold you tighter. His heart hurting from how broken you sounded.

“It’s over now baby, you don’t have to be scared.” He cooed, sneaking his metal hand under your shirt to stroke your back, knowing that the coolness brought you comfort in situations like this.

“I hate it when they talk about you like that,” You cried out, “Like you’re— like—“

“It’s okay baby, you don’t have to finish, I know.” He stopped you, knowing your words would’ve brought on a new wave of tears.

“I hated that I couldn’t do anything, I fucking hated it.” You cried.

He frowned, hugging your sobbing form, his heart breaking at the fact that you were upset because he had to portray The Winter Soldier. You were more upset for him, than he was for himself. You were too caring for his heart to handle.

You lifted your face from his chest, leaning up to meet his eyes. You held his face in your hands, looking into his eyes with panic.

“You okay?” You asked him softly, and he melted at your touch, pushing his face further into your hands. Even in this state, you were still worried about him.

“I’m okay babydoll. As long as I’ve got you with me, I’m gonna be okay.” He told you, lifting his flesh hand to gently grab your chin, letting his thumb caress your bottom lip. “Are you okay?”

“Now I am,” You nodded to him, “I just— You’ve already been through so much, and I hate seeing you have to do something so traumatic. I just wanna protect you from everything… I can’t and won’t see you hurt again.”

Bucky’s heart swelled at your words, there wasn’t anyone else that could make him feel as special as you do. You made him feel so important.

He pulled you in, giving your lips a quick but passionate kiss. His flesh hand cradling the back of your head, his metal hand pushing on your lower back, your front meeting his.

“I love you so much.” He whispered, leaning his forehead against yours.

“I love you too Buck.” You murmured, nuzzling your nose into his.

There was nothing else in the world you’d ever want, all you wanted was right here in his arms.

[delicatebarness]

the manuscript | chapter ten

Summary: At the Spector dinner party, Baby Girl struggles with jealousy and emotional turmoil while secretly using her gift from James.

Warnings: Age Gap. (Dr Barnes: late 40s & Reader: early 20s). Infidelity. Sexual Content/Use of Toys. Alcohol Consumption. Emotional Distress.

Word Count: 1171

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A/N: I cried while writing this chapter, okay. Also, it's only 15 minutes early, don't shout at me for posting out of schedule on this one. - Please feel free to leave feedback or let me know where and how you want the story to continue, this is just as much yours as mine. - B

The Manuscript: @mostlymarvelgirl | @mrsnikstan | @angelbabyyy99 | @kaithesimps-blog | @julvrs | @mrsstuckyboo | @am-3-thyst | @mcira

Everything: @hallecarey1 | @pattiemac1 | @uhmellamoanna | @scraftsku35 | @ozwriterchick | @sapphirebarnes | @rach2602 | @thetorturedbuckydepartment

Lively chatter filled Marc’s apartment, Sharon Carter-Barnes was elegant and poised as she stood beside James and chattered to other guests. There was a smile plastered on his face that didn’t quite reach his eyes. You felt a pang in your chest as his hand lingered against the small of her back. 

Trying to maintain your composure, you stayed engaged in small talk with your other professors, all the while aware of James and Sharon’s interactions. Every glance, every touch, and every whispered word between them felt like a silent dagged twisting in your gut. To distract yourself, you poured yourself a glass of wine, hoping the alcohol would numb the sting of witnessing James play the act of loving husband. 

Earlier in the evening, you nervously unwrapped the gift he had given you– a sleek, discreet love egg with a note instructing you to use it tonight. With a mix of excitement and trepidation, you trusted his instructions and turned it on. Carefully, you slipped it inside of you before finishing getting ready for the night. 

From the moment James walked into the apartment, a gentle almost soothing hum coursed through your body– A subtle reminder of his control over you even in a crowded room. With every sip of wine, you noticed the hum growing more pronounced, the pulsing sending a shiver up your spine. 

As you reached for your wine glass, you caught James’ eye from across the room. The blue gaze pierced through, a silent command not to drink. For a moment, you hesitated, but the need to dull the ache won out, and you took another sip while maintaining eye contact. Almost immediately, you gasped softly– responding to the stronger pulse from the love egg. 

You turned away, trying to hide your reaction, and delved into a conversation with Natasha Romanoff, your language professor. Your mind was elsewhere, torn between the pleasure coursing through your body and the turmoil of seeing James with Sharon. The wine wasn’t numbing the pain. 

His subtle punishment continued throughout the evening. Every time you sipped your wine, you broke his rule and the vibrations intensified. It grew harder to concentrate on anything else. Your breath hitched slightly with each wave of pleasure, the intensity becoming almost unbearable. 

As laughter filled the air, you forced a smile, yet voices and words blurred together. Your attention kept drifting back to James, he was now talking to your brother, his hand still resting on Sharon’s back. Another pang of jealousy coursed through you, the affectionate gesture causing you to take another sip. You bit your lip, stifling a gasp as another strong pulse shot through you, and your knees began to feel weak. 

You couldn’t bear it any longer, you excused yourself from the conversation, mumbling to Layla something about needing some sleep. She gave you a concerned look but didn’t press, allowing you to slip away. 

Stumbling slightly, you made your way to your bedroom. However, James intercepted you before you could make it as far. Gently steering you towards the bathroom instead, locking the door behind him. Concern etched on his face as he noticed your tear-streaked cheeks. 

“Hey, hey,” James softly murmured, guiding you to sit on the edge of the bathtub. “What’s wrong, Baby Girl?” his voice was gentle, contrasting with the sharp pain in your chest.

“I’m sorry, James,” you choked out between sobs, you could barely see through the blur of your tears. “I’m so sorry. I broke your rules. I drank, but I couldn’t… I couldn’t handle seeing you with her.” your voice trembled– each word punctuated by another wave of tears. 

Kneeling before you, his hands rested on your knees as he looked up at you. Regret etched its way across his features. “Hey, shhh, it’s okay,” he calmly spoke, reaching up to gently wipe away your tears. “I’m here. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you Sharon would be here. I didn’t think…” 

You shook your head, the tears still flowing. “I can’t stop thinking about you, and I’m so confused. I’m so sorry.” 

His thumb brushed against your cheek, catching the stray tears as his expression softened. “Baby, listen to me. You’ve been through enough tonight. I should have prepared you for this. I’m the one who should be sorry.” 

Through tear-streaked lashes, you looked up at him. The weight of his forgiveness and understanding aided the ache in your chest. His presence grounded you, as his warm, steady hand continued wiping your tears away. 

“You’ve been punished enough for one night,” he said gently, his voice soothing. He began to reach under your dress. There had still been a faint buzzing against your skin. “Let’s take the toy out.” His touch was careful as he reached between your legs. Once he had taken the love egg out, pocketing it before turning his full attention to you. 

“You need to rest,” he said softly, genuine concern filled his eyes. “Go to bed, okay?” 

You nodded, exhaustion suddenly washing over you. He helped you to stand, his arm steadying you as he guided you out of the bathroom and toward your bedroom. He waited by the door as you wrapped yourself in the sheets. 

“I’ll check on you in the morning,” he promised, sending you a small reassuring smile before reaching for the door handle. “Try to get some sleep.” 

Laying there in the darkness, the events of the evening replayed in your mind. You felt a sense of relief, the way he handled you with understanding, easing your guilt. But, your mind still lingered on James and the way he had looked at you in the bathroom. Your heart ached with longing and confusion. 

As you drifted towards sleep, a soft knock on the door pulled you. The door creaked open, and Marc stepped inside, his expression tender as he approached your bedside with a glass of water in hand. 

“I thought you might need this,” he said softly, handing you the glass. His concern was evident, his eyes searching yours for signs of distress.

Taking the glass, you offered a small, appreciative smile. “Thank you.” 

He sat down on the edge of the bed, his gaze never leaving yours. “Are you okay? You seemed really upset earlier.” 

You nodded, sipping the water. “I’ll be fine. Just… everything’s complicated with Peter at the moment.” 

Your brother frowned, his worry deepening. “Is it about last weekend?” 

You didn’t know how to explain the tangled mess of emotions you were experiencing. You couldn’t explain it, especially not to him. “It’s complicated,” you finally said, setting the glass down on your nightstand. 

Marc’s concern grew, but he had been working on respecting your need for privacy. “Alright,” he said gently, “but remember, we’re here for you. Anytime you need to talk.” 

You nodded, thanking him as he left the room. You lay back down, your emotions weighing heavily on you. When sleep finally claimed you, your dreams were filled with conflicting images and emotions, leaving you restless.

---

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[sebbypowell]

Life With A Super Soldier Roommate Pt. 2

Summary: Both of you were stunned when Natasha Romanoff came over and told Bucky that he was being recruited to join The Avengers. You were convincing him to join, but you also had a secret that was officially out.

Words: 3.5k

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of kidnapping

Part 3

"Why the hell would they want me?" he asked, half in disbelief and half in anger.

Nat shrugged nonchalantly. "You're a skilled fighter, soldier. You have talents and abilities that could be useful to the team. Plus, you've got some experience dealing with HYDRA." She turned her gaze towards you, who was standing quietly behind Bucky. "Who's this? Girlfriend? Wife?"

Bucky's shoulders tensed at the question, his protective instincts flaring up at Nat's attention on you. "She's my roommate," he answered shortly. "What does it matter?"

Nat raised an eyebrow at Bucky's response, a hint of a smirk on her lips. "Touchy, aren't we?" she said, her tone slightly teasing. "She's pretty, though. Got a name?"

"Uhm… Y/N," you said instead of Bucky saying it.

Nat's eyes flicked over you for a moment, taking in your appearance. A small smirk tugged at the corner of her lips, but she said nothing. "Cute name," she said, turning back to Bucky. "So, are you gonna join the team or not?"

Bucky let out a heavy sigh, his mind racing. On the one hand, the idea of being on the Avengers team was enticing, a chance to make up for his past. But on the other hand, he wasn't sure if it was the right move. "I don't know, Nat," he said, his voice tired. "I've got a lot of baggage. I'm not sure I'm cut out for the superhero business."

Nat rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. "Bucky, everyone on the team has baggage. You think I don't have skeletons in my closet?" She let out a soft laugh. "Besides, we could use a little spice on the team. You think those two idiots Steve and Tony can keep the group together on their own? Someone's gotta keep them in check."

Bucky couldn't help but chuckle at that. The thought of himself as the person to keep Tony and Steve in check was both amusing and terrifying. "You've got a point," he admitted, running a hand through his hair. "But I don't know if I'm good enough for the team. I don't think I deserve it and Steve's on the team."

Natasha's expression softened slightly at his words, her gaze flickering over him with a hint of understanding. "You think Steve's gonna hold your past against you?" she asked, an edge of challenge in her tone. "You think he'll judge you for the things you did when you were brainwashed?"

Bucky let out a weary sigh, his shoulders slumping slightly. "I don't know," he said quietly. "He's the most judgemental person I know. Hell, he's the one who cheated on me with Sharon Carter."

Nat rolled her eyes again, shaking her head in disbelief. "You are hopeless, Barnes," she muttered, a hint of annoyance in her voice. "You and Steve are still the same. It's like I'm dealing with a pair of lovesick teenagers."

"So you don't even believe Bucky?" you asked. "He told me everything last night."

Bucky shot you a look, his eyes widening in surprise at your comment. "What the hell, doll?" he muttered, his voice laced with irritation. "I thought I could trust you not to go blabbing my life story."

You raised an eyebrow at Bucky's reaction, a hint of defiance in your eyes. "And I thought you could trust me enough to know that I wouldn't go gossiping about your personal life," you shot back, your tone firm. "Besides, you looked like you needed someone to talk to."

Bucky let out a huff, running a hand through his hair in annoyance. Damn it, he should have known better than to open up to you. But a part of him couldn't deny that it had felt good to share his burden with you. Maybe he did trust you more than he'd like to admit.

"Anyway," Nat cut in suddenly, her voice pulling both of their attention back to her. "You both can have your little moment of drama later. We need an answer, Bucky."

Bucky's gaze flicked back to Nat, his expression hardening again. "I still don't know," he said gruffly. "I need to think about it."

Nat rolled her eyes once again, her patience clearly wearing thin. "You're such a stubborn pain in the ass," she muttered, her tone irritated. "But fine. I'll give you twenty-four hours to think about it. After that, Fury wants his answer. Got it?"

Bucky's jaw clenched at her irritation, but he nodded nonetheless. "Got it," he said shortly. "Twenty-four hours."

"Good." Nat gave him a small nod, her expression still serious. "I'll be back tomorrow evening for your answer. Don't keep me waiting, Barnes." With that, she spun on her heel and walked out of the apartment, the door slamming shut behind her.

"You do realize that if you do join the Avengers, people are gonna say good stuff about you," you said while walking over and locking the door.

Bucky let out a dry laugh at your words, his expression still tense. "Good stuff about The Winter Soldier?" he asked skeptically, the title dripping with sarcasm. "Yeah, I'm sure everyone's gonna be singing my praises."

You rolled your eyes at his skepticism, crossing your arms over your chest. "You might be surprised," you said, a hint of challenge in your voice. "People can be forgiving, especially when they realize you were brainwashed and manipulated by a bunch of assholes."

Bucky let out a scoff at your words, his skepticism only growing. "Oh, yeah, I'm sure they'll be lining up to forgive me for all the murders I committed," he muttered, his voice thick with sarcasm. "Maybe they'll even throw me a parade to celebrate my redemption."

You sighed, realizing that Bucky's self-hatred and guilt were clouding his judgement. "Look, I get it. You have a lot of baggage. You've done things you're not proud of. But that doesn't mean you don't deserve a second chance," you said firmly. "And joining the Avengers could be a way to prove yourself. To make up for the past."

Bucky's expression darkened at your words, his jaw clenching tightly. "You make it sound so easy," he said, his tone sharp. "Like it's that simple. Like joining the Avengers will just magically wipe away the blood on my hands."

You took a step closer to him, your voice firm but gentle. "I never said it was easy, Buck," you said gently. "I know it'll be tough. Hell, I know it'll be the hardest thing you ever have to do. But you can't let your guilt and shame hold you back forever. Just join them, Buck."

Bucky let out a huff, his expression still tense. "Why are you so adamant about this?" he asked, his voice gruff. "Why do you care so much if I join the Avengers or not?"

You gave him a small smile, your voice soft and genuine. "Because I care about you, Buck," you said simply. "Because I see the good in you, even if you don't see it yourself. And because I know you want to be more than just the Winter Soldier. You want to be Bucky Barnes, the man who's deserving of forgiveness and redemption."

Bucky's expression softened at your words, his eyes meeting yours. Damn it, you had a way of getting under his skin and seeing through his walls. He knew you were right, that he wanted to be more than the monster he had been. But was he really worthy of redemption?

"I don't know if I can do it, Y/N," he muttered, his voice rough with emotion. "I don't know if I'm cut out to be an Avenger. To be a hero."

You took another step closer, your hand coming up to rest on his arm. "You're more than you think you are, Buck," you said firmly. "You're strong, you're smart, you're brave. And you have a hell of a left hook. You don't need to be perfect to be an Avenger. You just need to be willing to try. You had all that taste when you helped battle Thanos."

Bucky let out a sigh, his shoulders slumping slightly. He knew you had a point. He had fought alongside the Avengers against Thanos, and he had proved himself. But that was different than being a full-fledged member of the team. He wasn't sure if he was ready for that kind of pressure, that kind of responsibility.

"What's gonna happen to you then? I'll be living at the compound while you're here in this apartment all alone," he said.

You chuckled softly, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips. "I think I can handle being apartment-sitting for a while," you said, your voice light. "Besides, I'll be fine. I've got a job, friends, you…"

Bucky's expression darkened at the thought of you being alone, his protective instincts kicking in. "I don't like the idea of leaving you here all alone," he muttered, his voice gruff with concern. "Fuck, if I'm going, you're going."

You raised an eyebrow at his words, not entirely surprised by his protective streak. "You want me to live on the compound with a bunch of super-powered superheroes?" you asked, a hint of disbelief in your voice.

Bucky's expression softened slightly at your response, but he stood firm in his decision. "Yes," he said simply. "I want you to come with me. The thought of leaving you here alone gives me anxiety."

You couldn't help but feel a mixture of surprise and endearment at his words. He was so stubborn and protective, it was both infuriating and charming at the same time. "You're acting like I'm your girlfriend."

Bucky's eyes widened at your comment, his cheeks flushing slightly. Damn it, he hadn't meant to sound possessive. But the thought of you being alone without him made his heart race in a way he didn't quite understand. "Shut up, doll," he muttered, his voice gruff.

You smirked at his response, amused by the way he was trying to brush off your comment. "Or what? You gonna put me over your knee?" you teased, unable to resist poking at his protective instincts.

Bucky's ears grew red at your words, his mind immediately picturing the scenario you had just described. Damn it, he couldn't deny that the thought of putting you over his knee had a certain appeal. But he couldn't let you know that. "Watch it," he warned, his voice low and gruff.

You continued to tease him, enjoying the way he was reacting to your words. "Or you'll do what? Punish me?" you taunted, a sly smile on your face. "I'd like to see you try, soldier boy."

Bucky's eyes narrowed at your challenge, his jaw clenching tight. Damn it, you were testing all of his limits right now. He took a step closer to you, his voice dropping to a growl. "You don't know what you're asking for, doll," he warned, his eyes dark and intense.

You didn't back down from his intense gaze, your own eyes meeting his with a mix of defiance and desire. "Oh, I think I do," you said, your voice dripping with confidence. "I dare you to punish me."

That's when Bucky swung his metal arm at you, but you caught it by the fist.

Bucky's eyes widened in surprise as you caught his metal fist mid-swing. He hadn't expected you to be able to react so quickly, let alone catch his metal arm. "The fuck!? Don't tell me you have the serum in yours veins."

You chuckled at his reaction, your grip on his fist not loosening. "That's one of my secrets," you replied, a smug grin on your face.

Bucky's irritation flared again at your smug tone, his eyes narrowing as he tried to tug his fist free from your grip. But you held on tight, refusing to let go. "How?"

You raised an eyebrow at his persistence, enjoying the way he was struggling against your grip. "Why do you want to know so badly?" you teased, a sly smile tugging at the corner of your lips. "Why do you want to know how I got the serum?"

Bucky's expression darkened as he continued to tug against your grip, his frustration growing. "Because it's not possible," he said gruffly. "The serum was only given to a handful of people, including me. There's no way you have it too."

You laughed at his resistance, relishing in the way he was getting riled up. "Well, it seems like I'm a special case," you said with a shrug. "Maybe the universe just has a cruel sense of humor, giving me the same thing that turned you into a super soldier."

Bucky's eyes widened at your words, his mind racing with possibilities. There was no way you had the serum like he did. It wasn't possible. But then how could you possibly be holding his metal fist so easily? It didn't make sense. "You're lying," he muttered, his voice strained. "You have to be."

You chuckled again at his reaction, enjoying the way he was getting more and more frustrated. "I was captured by HYDRA when I was a little girl," you said as you released his grip. "The only thing I remember when I got kidnapped was the Winter Soldier pulling me out of my bed by the hair."

Bucky's blood ran cold at your words, his heart leaping to his throat. He knew the kind of atrocities HYDRA was capable of, especially when it came to experimentation. The thought of you being a victim to their cruelty made his stomach churn. "How long…?" he asked, his voice rasping.

You shrugged nonchalantly, pretending not to notice the way his expression had changed. "A few years," you said, your voice light. "But I don't remember most of it. HYDRA was good at erasing memories."

Bucky felt his heart tighten in his chest at your nonchalant response. The thought of you being in the hands of HYDRA, undergoing their experiments and brainwashing, was more than he could bear to think about. He backed up. "You're that little girl screaming my name in my nightmares…"

You smirked at his realization, a hint of sadness in your eyes. "Yep, that's me," you said, leaning against the wall. "I guess we have even more in common than we thought."

Bucky's grip on reality was slipping more and more with each passing moment. The idea that you had not only been a victim of HYDRA's experiments but that you were the little girl he had watched being taken and tortured in his nightmares, was too much for him to handle. "This can't be real," he muttered, his voice shaking with disbelief.

You could see the turmoil in Bucky's expression, the way his mind was struggling to process this new information. But you couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt at the way you had sprung this on him. You stepped closer, your voice gentle. "It's real, Buck," you said softly. "I'm real."

Bucky shook his head, his voice hoarse. "No. No, this can't be real," he repeated, his gaze flickering over your face, searching for any sign that this could be a sick joke. But all he saw was the familiar stubborn determination in your eyes. "How could I have never noticed? How did I never connect the dots?"

You took another step closer, your hand reaching out to gently touch his arm. "It's not your fault, Buck," you said softly. "You were brainwashed and tortured by HYDRA for years. You didn't even know yourself, let alone recognize someone from your past."

Bucky's eyes were glued on yours, his heart racing in his chest. The touch of your hand on his arm only served to remind him that this was real. That you were real. "Why didn't you tell me?" he asked, his voice ragged. "Why didn't you say something earlier?"

You looked down at the floor, suddenly feeling guilty. "I don't know," you said quietly. "I guess I didn't want you to look at me differently. I wanted you to see me as a normal person, not as a lab rat that survived HYDRA's experiments."

. . .

The next day, Bucky was sitting on the couch in the living room when he heard a familiar knock on the door. He knew who it was without even having to look. He quickly got up and opened the door, revealing Natasha.

"Natalia," he greeted, his voice gruff.

Natasha gave him a small smile. "James," she replied, her voice cool. "I'm here to get your answer."

Bucky let out a sigh and gestured for her to come in. "Let's talk."

Natasha walked into the living room and took a seat on the couch, looking up at Bucky expectantly.

Bucky closed the door and walked over, sitting down across from her. There was a tense silence for a moment before he spoke. "I've made my decision."

Natasha raised an eyebrow, her expression betraying her curiosity. "And what might that decision be?" she asked, her voice even.

Bucky let out another sigh, his jaw clenching as he prepared himself for her reaction. "I'll join the Avengers," he said gruffly. "But…"

Natasha tensed at his words, already sensing that there was a condition attached. "There's always a but." she prompted, her voice laced with wariness.

Bucky shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his eyes flickering away from hers. "I have a condition," he said, his voice gruff. "One that's non-negotiable."

Natasha raised an eyebrow as a small smirk tugged at the corner of her lips. "I'm listening," she said, her tone suggesting she was prepared to debate his condition.

Bucky let out a breath, knowing that this wouldn't be an easy argument to win. "I want her to come with me," he said firmly, his voice leaving no room for negotiation. "Y/N is safer with me. I don't want her being alone in this apartment."

Natasha's eyes widened in surprise at Bucky's condition, not expecting him to ask for something so personal. "Y/N?" she repeated, her voice laced with skepticism. "You want to bring your roommate with you to the Avengers compound?"

Bucky's jaw tightened at her surprise, his voice firm. "Yes, I do." he said. "I've accepted your offer for me to join the Avengers, but I'm not leaving Y/N behind. She's coming too, whether you like it or not."

Natasha let out a sigh, her expression turning stern. "Bucky, you know it's not that simple. The Avengers compound is not a place for civilians." she protested, her voice leaving no room for argument. "We can't guarantee her safety there."

Bucky's eyes narrowed in anger at her response, his voice growing more forceful. "You don't think I know that?" he snapped. "I know the risks better than anyone. But I also know that I'm not leaving Y/N alone. She's coming with me, or I'm not going. She's not even a civilian."

Natasha's expression changed at his last statement, a flicker of surprise in her eyes. "What do you mean, she's not a civilian?" she asked, her curiosity piqued.

Bucky took a deep breath, knowing that he was about to reveal another secret. "She's a product of HYDRA," he said gruffly. "She survived their experiments and came out with their serum. She's just as much of a super-soldier as I am."

Natasha's eyes widened in shock at his words, her mind racing with this new information. "Are you sure?" she asked, her voice laced with a mixture of disbelief and concern.

Bucky nodded, his expression filled with a mix of anger and regret. "Remember that little girl I told you about in my nightmares when we were together almost a decade ago?"

Natasha's memory clicked at his words, her eyes darkening as she recalled the haunting story he had shared with her years ago. "Yes," she said, her voice soft. "The girl you couldn't save."

Bucky's jaw clenched as he nodded, the memory still as fresh and painful as ever. "It was Y/N," he said hoarsely. "The little girl in my nightmares was Y/N. I recognized her when she told me the truth."

Natasha's expression softened with sadness at his revelation, her heart aching for the pain he was clearly feeling. "And you want to bring her with you to the compound?" she repeated, her voice gentle now.

Bucky's expression hardened as he met her gaze, his voice firm. "Yes," he said. "I won't let her be alone again. She either comes with me, or I don't join the Avengers. Final offer."

Natasha let out a sigh, her mind racing with the implications of Bucky's condition. On one hand, it was a risk to bring a civilian into the world of superheroes. On the other hand, Y/N wasn't a civilian, and the idea of Bucky not joining the Avengers was too significant to ignore. "Alright," she said after a moment. "She can come with you. But there will be rules."

Part 1

[bombsonboard]

nobody likes a secret (teaser)

Sooooo I've been working on and off on a little something that's part of a writing challenge and I thought i'd give you guys a teensy teaser.

Unsure If this is gonna be a looong one shot or multiple parts but lemme know what you think!

******

You know he’s finally arrived from the screams. The crescendo of wild wails lined Bucky Barnes’ path towards the step and repeat. The hottest name (and face) in Hollywood rode the wave like a master, the slick sharpie sliding over each and every glossy paper in front of him, a beaming smile left on every fan’s face, content knowing they had held his attention for a precious moment. 

You knew exactly how they felt. Too well. Having flown far too close to the sun you melted away as soon as you caught sight of him from a distance. His unavoidable heat began creeping up your skin, even from this far. No one here knew him like you did. Had. A year had passed, after all. 

Suddenly, a shadow appeared, and you wilted. You saw her. Waiting to the side for him, all grace and patience. Sharon Carter slid her arm into Bucky Barnes’ as he was shepherded away from his red-faced fans. Just like the Instagram photos, they were perfectly in tune, a choreographed romance made for the screen. Maybe they should’ve casted her instead. 

The panging in your chest was harder to ignore tonight, viciously reminding you that time doesn't work for every wound. If absence had the audacity made your heart grow fonder you were about to scream bloody murder and rip it out of you yourself. 

It was embarrassing, you knew he would be here. At the premiere of the movie you had starred in together, of course he would be. There was sadly no divine intervention, no fault line gaping open or no sudden tsunami to conveniently erase him from existence, or your mind. He was only in major disasters in the movies, and there wasn’t going to be anywhere to run when you ended up in that cinema together. Oh, god-

“Over here, sweetheart!” 

A flock of men brandishing black cameras squawked directions at you as you shuffled into the firing line. Chin down, shoulders back, hand on hip, one foot in front of the other and try not to bolt without looking back. 

Bulbs flashed and blinded without mercy. Maybe losing temporary sight of him might do you some good as you tried to grasp at the composure that was slipping through your fingers.

*****

Please let me know if you'd like to be tagged when I finally start putting out the full thing :)

[bgwlsmahf25]

Heat Of The Moment

Pairings: Carol Danvers x fem!reader; Maria Hill x fem!reader (platonic); Nick Fury x fem!reader (platonic)

Warnings: brief mention of injuries; reader gets hurt

Summary: you put yourself in danger one too many times and Carol gets worried. A heart to heart is needed…

Genre: hurt/ comfort

a/n: I watched the Marvels today so Carol’s on my mind ;)

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

You were laughing with some of your SHIELD colleagues when Carol marched in. “I want you to quit your job,” she demanded.

“Um.. ok. What’s wrong?”

Your colleagues muttered awkwardly and moved away giving you and Carol some space. You sighed and gestured around you. “You had to do it here?”

“I’m sorry,” she replied gently. “But when Maria Hill calls me up to inform me that my girlfriend’s been injured, I get worried. You didn’t think to mention you got shot?! Twice!”

“Let’s start with the part where Maria called you. Why?” Carol looked away. “Why Carol?”

“Oh it’s ‘Carol’ now?”

“It is until you stop acting so damn mysterious and tell me why my boss has you on speed dial!”

“Ladies!” Nick Fury’s voice rang out across the office. He pointed to the conference room. “Both of you. Now.”

You refused to sit down, instead pacing the length of the room looking anywhere but at Carol. You were angry and confused that she’d gone behind your back and taken protective measures without consulting you.

Carol sat down, watching you and saying nothing. Fury finally broke the silence. “What’s the damn issue? Yelling in the workplace like children is not professional.”

“Going behind my back is not professional!” you shouted. “Checking in on me without involving me is not professional! Having my boss on speed dial is not professional Carol.”

“Please stop calling me Carol!” she snapped. Taken aback, you stared at her in surprise. “And don’t give me that look. You know why. I’m off world 355 days a year. I’m not here. And it’s great you’re working for SHIELD. I know that’s your dream. But then you signed up to missions, to more, and suddenly I’m two galaxies away receiving calls from your boss telling me you can’t talk to me because you’re lying unconscious in a hospital bed, damn near close to dying!” Tears were pooling in your girlfriend’s eyes.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I don’t make it easy. I’m sorry I don’t always communicate. But I’m not quitting missions or SHIELD to make you feel safer. I came alive Carol. Storming those bases, analysing intel, working with the Avengers, working with you… I’m not giving it up now I’ve experienced it. You can’t ask me to do that.”

Carol rubbed at her eyes then looked at you coldly. “Then I guess we’re not meant for each other y/n.” She got up and left the room, ignoring your stammering voice.

“I think you just got dumped,” Fury informed you.

“Yes I’m well aware of that!” you snapped, exiting the room angrily.

You headed straight for your room and fell on your bed, bursting into tears. You were so happy when Carol had first looked at you then talked to you and then eventually kissed you. You had everything you could possibly want… and you’d just lost it all.

***

Several weeks later, you were on a standard recon mission for SHIELD. Captain America was supporting but it was considered unlikely he’d be needed. You knew he was there to keep an eye on Sharon Carter, as they’d recently started seeing each other.

The thought made you smile and your heart ached with a memory of Carol and the cheeky looks she’d send you in meetings that were meant to be serious.

“I’ve got the back,” you informed your team mates on comms, running to a padlocked door. A simple silent detonation device blasted it open and you headed inside, gun at the ready.

“All clear-“ Someone crashed into you making you gasp and drop your gun. You scrabbled with one hand trying to find it and someone trod on your fingers making you yelp.

The attacker picked you up and threw you with force against the far wall. You hit your head, cried out and everything went black.

***

Slowly you opened your eyes to see your hand smothered in bandages, an IV poking out. One leg was in a cast, supported by a sling from the ceiling. You could feel tight skin across your right cheek and winced when you touched it.

“I wouldn’t do that.” Maria strode into the room, clipboard in hand, Dr Cho behind her. “Helen’s done some cell reconstruction on your cheek, it was ripped apart by exposed steel supports in the wall.”

“Deputy Director Hill, with all due respect, Agent y/l/n should be resting right now. She has just had major surgery and needs time to recover. Questioning can wait,” Dr Cho announced.

“Doctor, as I’ve told you, I just need a few minutes to ask some questions.” Maria shot the doctor a firm gaze. “Five minutes.”

Helen muttered then swiftly left the room, talking intently to herself. Maria watched her go then turned to you. “Agent.”

“Maria,” you replied, “you’ve known me for six years.”

“Fine… y/n, don’t you ever pull crap like that again.” Her tone was firm but her eyes twinkled. “You gave us all a fright. What were you thinking charging into danger like that?”

“Cap was on support and I’ve run far more dangerous ops than this one Maria.”

“Cap’s eyes were on Sharon Carter.” Maria sighed. “I’m over-ruling Fury on that one next time.”

“Hmm.. let me be a fly on the wall for that conversation,” you smirked, making Maria roll her eyes.

“Now then, as for the – “

“WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING?!” Carol barged into the room, breathing heavily like she’d run a marathon and glaring at you.

“Why hello to you too,” you replied. “You’ve interrupted a mission debrief so if you join the queue in the corridor…”

“You’re not that popular, don’t flatter yourself,” Maria teased, shutting up when she noticed Carol’s side eye. “Okay, y/n we can resume this later.” She quietly exited the room.

You glared at Carol. “I was working.”

“You got thrown against a brick wall, had your face torn apart by a steel barrier, broke three bones in your foot and fractured four fingers… that is not working!”

“Touche. Someone read my file.”

“Y/n…” Carol whimpered. “Please. Talk to me.”

“As I recall we’re not meant for each other so we probably shouldn’t be talking,” you replied coldly.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry y/n.”

“Sorry isn’t enough anymore.” You leant back on your pillow and closed your eyes. “We’re done here Carol.”

“Sweet…”

“Don’t even start.”

Silence fell. You slowed down your breathing and heart rate. Having Carol back was making you feel all sorts of emotions and you didn’t want to admit you were over the moon to see her. You lay further back against your pillows and soon drifted off into a restless sleep.

***

Hours later you opened your eyes. You turned your head slightly to see painkillers being drip fed into you.

“Hey… how are you feeling?”

You looked tiredly at Carol. “Like I lost a fight with a brick wall.”

“I deserved that.”

“Yeah. You were mean.” You sighed.

“But?”

“What makes you think there’s a but?”

“Always is with you,” she chuckled and your heart leapt at the sound.

“But… so was I. We both said some things.”

“We sure did.”

“We’ve said worse,” you commented dryly making her chuckle again. “But you were mean. I get where you’re coming from though.”

“Oh yeah?”

“You’re away 355 days of the year. You live in space. I’m not always up there. I worry too. This isn’t a one-way street hun.”

“Hun?”

“Term of endearment. Short for honey. Aka you.”

Carol smirked and moved closer, perching on the edge of your bed. She ran a hand over the good side of your face, pressing her fingertips against your lips gently. You kissed them smiling up at her.

“I miss you,” you whispered.

“I was out of line,” she replied. “What I said… I said it because I love you y/n.”

You stared at her. Neither of you had said the three little words yet and hearing her say them made you smile. “I love you too dumbass.”

“Oh I’m the dumbass? You’re the one who took on a brick wall.”

[nekoannie-chan]

Pain

Pairing: Steve Rogers X Reader.

Word count: 622 words.

Rating: Teen.

Summary: Steve broke your heart

Major Tags: Doubts, cheating, Sharon Carter.

Additional tags: This is my entry to @flordeamatista Loveeeeeee Song Writing Challenge with the prompt:

"You ever love somebody so much you can barely breathe when you're with 'em. Love the way you lie"

You can read it on Wattpad and Ao3 too.

@saiyanprincessswanie.

My native language is Spanish so I wanna improve my writing skills in English if you notice any mistakes, please let me know and I will correct them.

I don’t give any kind of permission for my fics to be posted on other platforms or languages (I translate myself my work) or the use of my graphics (my dividers are included in this), I did them exclusively for my fics, please respect my work and don't steal it. There are some people here who make dividers that anyone can use, mine is not this type, please look for the other people. The only exception is the ones I gifted 'cuz now belong to someone else. If you find any of my works on a different platform and are not one of my accounts, please let me know. Reblogs and comments are always welcome.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Marvel's characters (unfortunately), except for the original characters and the story.

Add yourself to my taglist here.

My other media where I publish:  Ao3, Wattpad, ffnet, TikTok, Instagram, Twitter. 

If you like it, please vote, comment, and give me feedback to improve my skills and reblog.

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You were running as fast as you could; it was as if something was stopping you from breathing. Your heart was pounding like it was going to explode, but you knew it was because of all the feelings pressing on your chest. You had decided to surprise Steve; you knew how to help him so he and Bucky could escape. However, the surprise was for you when, on arriving at the agreed-upon place, you saw Steve kissing Sharon Carter. The pain that shot through you was indescribable, probably worse than if you had been stabbed straight through the heart, making the air dense and unbreathable, as if you were trapped and imprisoned in a tiny place. You froze, unable to look away from the scene unfolding in front of you. "You ever love somebody so much you can barely breathe when you're with 'em," you thought, each word feeling like an open wound in your heart. At that moment, you wondered if you could ever breathe normally again.

Steve slowly pulled away from Sharon, but suddenly his attention was drawn to you. His eyes, full of surprise and concern, searched yours for an explanation he couldn't give. None of that was supposed to have happened.

You tried to say something—anything that could explain your presence there—but the words stuck in your throat. You couldn't bear what you had just seen; you wanted to run away, or maybe give an explanation or pretend nothing had happened, but how could you ignore what you had just witnessed?

Similarly, Steve looked confused, as if he wanted to explain, although he didn't know exactly what to say either.

The silence between you was too much; you were sure that any sound, even the slightest, could be heard. Finally, it was Steve who broke the impasse, taking a few hesitant steps towards you.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, his voice heavy with regret and confusion. "I don't know what to say... You shouldn't have seen that."

Tears threatened to overflow from your eyes, but you forced yourself to hold them back. You didn't want to show him your weakness, not when he had seen enough. You took a deep breath, trying desperately to find the right words to express everything you were feeling at that moment. Even though it seemed impossible, you felt like a fool for always supporting him in everything, for loving him, and for letting him play with your feelings.

"I'm sorry," Steve repeated, moving even closer, as if he wanted to reach out to you but was afraid of scaring you. "I didn't mean to hurt you. You shouldn't have been here."

Your lips trembled before you began to speak. You needed strength and to concentrate on what you were going to say, even though it seemed so difficult. "I don't know why I came," you confessed, the voice barely a whisper that came through. "I thought... I thought I might...". You stopped, unable to finish the sentence, as the lump in your throat threatened to stop you from speaking.

Steve looked at you and reached out a hand towards you, but hesitated before touching you, as if he feared his touch would only make things worse.

"I don't know what to say," he finally admitted. "I can't explain what happened... between Sharon and me. But it doesn't change how I feel about you."

Steve's words left you dazed and confused. How could he say he loved you while he was entangled with someone else?

You turned around and started to walk away. Sometimes love wasn't as sweet as everyone thought it was, and sometimes it seemed like it was trying to drown you, on the verge of stopping you from breathing.

[tenderjock]

a thousand words

OR, eight photographs Director Carter has in her office.

ONE | Steve.

TWO | A group shot of the Howling Commandos, with a scrawl across the top corner in red pen that reads Howlies in [CROSSED OUT], Feb 1944. There's not much background to speak of; the gaggle of armed, muddy men take up the entire photograph. Captain America is standing dead center, smiling with just the corners of his mouth, Sgt. Barnes to his right hand with a cavalier angle to his head. A row of men kneels in a line in front of him, and more line up on each side.

One of the men kneeling is visibly smaller, less muscular, than the rest, and suspiciously clean-shaven although no less covered in mud. She's grinning with all her teeth at the camera and holding a MP40 with casual grace.

THREE | A gilt-framed photograph of her brother, Michael, in his military uniform, taken before his first death.

FOUR | Technically a clipping from a newspaper: Angie at the opening night curtain call of her first real on-Broadway show, holding a bouquet of dark roses and smiling ear to ear.

FIVE | It's a candid, really, taken in the booth of a bar somewhere in Manhattan near SHIELD's original New York headquarters. They're all outrageously drunk. Jack's slouching in his seat, an arm thrown around the back of the booth and bracketing Peggy's shoulders. He's giving someone behind the camera the what-for, and Daniel is laughing, open-mouthed and crinkle-eyed, at whatever he's saying.

Peggy is staring directly into the camera's lens, drawn up with her spine perfectly straight and a stern expression on her face. It's somewhat marred by the fact that she's wearing a man's hat that is too big for her and has tipped down over one ear.

SIX | A Miss Carter in her mid-forties, gray streaking her dark hair and a fashionably appropriate evening gown adorning her body. Miss Carter is posing for the camera, tipping her glass in a toast to Ana Jarvis, who is winking gayly at her. Half a dozen familiar faces litter the background of the shot, all invitees to Howard Stark's wedding - which happens to be both his first wedding and his last.

SEVEN | A color photograph, this one, taken for LIFE magazine, of Barbara Thompson and Director Carter pouring over a map of the United States. Nothing of the documents they're looking at is visible, but Mrs. Thompson is gesturing, one hip leaned against the table. Carter is looking up at her, red lips slightly pursed. To Carter's right, slightly out of focus, Agent Fury is standing with his hands on his hips, listening as well.

EIGHT | Aunt Peggy, well into her seventies, with her hands on Sharon's shoulders. They're at a gun range; both of them have on protective headsets and goggles. Sharon's holding a loaded pistol and wearing an apprehensive expression. Peggy is smiling, sly and knowing.

[justreadingfics]

Date Night - A “Looking For a Hearbeat” One-Shot

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Words: 2.8k

Summary: You and your boyfriend have just got back together after a long time. Your friends offer to watch your baby daughter so you two can have a date night.

Warnings: Smut, Fingering, Sex inside a Car, Fluff.

A/N: Hiiii, I’m still here. Sometimes. This little one-shot was based on these anon asks:

Well, I feel like they banged a lot! lol, it had been quite a while of pent up energy, so yeah, even if sex wasn't the main thing in their relationship, I feel like they had a lot to catch up on that area.

//

Awh, now I have this headcanon that from chapter 25 onwards, Bucky and Y/n are just constantly touching each other in some way, and that for weeks (maybe even months?) various team members would offer to babysit Summer for a few hours a day, so that Bucky and Y/n could... "catch up" in peace. 😁

Thank you, nonnies. I had a blast writing form them again. And thank you so so much @flordeamatista​ and @sn0wpiercer​. You have no idea how much you two helped me.

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

“Vee-vee!”

“Ah… there’s my best girl!” Upon opening his front door Steve reaches for Summer with a big smile as the one-year-old makes grabby hands at him, calling her uncle Vee-vee and promptly leaving your arms to favor his.

Beside you, a chant of recommendations and warnings immediately starts spilling out of Bucky’s mouth, making you roll your eyes at your boyfriend, even though you’re paying attention to check if he’s forgetting something.

After your daughter’s frightening kidnapping a little while ago, you two took a while to feel safe enough to leave her side. But who better to take care of her than a bunch of Avengers like Captain America himself with the help of his new girlfriend, Sharon Carter. It’s no secret that they are willing to give their lives to protect her.  

In fact, all of her aunts and uncles would. As soon you you and Bucky got back together, one of them would offer to watch her so you two could have some alone time. They always say it’s all they can do after everything you two have gone through, but you know better. What they really want is to spend time with your baby.

“If she gets sleepy, her unicorn is in the bag; under no circumstances you give her candies, especially after 7pm… Jesus Christ are you even listening Steve?” Bucky glares at his friend, who just kept blowing raspberries on Summer’s tummy all over Bucky’s speech, motivated by the baby’s howls of laughter.

“Ah, there’s my best girl,” Sharon grins, repeating her boyfriend’s welcoming while coming from the kitchen and reaches out for Summer. She greets you and Bucky before mimicking her boyfriend with the raspberry kisses on the delighted little girl.  

Holding back a laugh, you nudge Bucky’s side, nodding for him to catch the baby eyes Steve was giving his girlfriend and Summer. Bucky just lets out a huff, still clearly pretty much annoyed by Steve’s lack of attention to his little lecture about how to take care of his daughter.

You roll your eyes at him again, before turning to Sharon, “Are you sure it’s ok? I mean, I know you two offered, but it’s Saturday night, are we ruining any plans of you have?” It was not too long ago that they began dating.

“Oh, please, of course not. We’ve been waiting the whole day to spend a few hours with this beautiful little lady.” She grins at Summer and Steve before turning to you again,  “Also, this girl may also need a break from the lovey dovey energy between the two of you. We know we need.” She teases, winking at Steve.    

“Alright then, fair enough.” You chuckle, “But please don’t hesitate in calling us for any reason, I mean, any reason at all.”

“Don’t you worry guys, if we need, we’ll do that. But we’ll be fine.” Steve answers, running his hand lovingly up and down Summer’s back as he smiles at Sharon. 

“Come on, off you go, right Summer? Off you go.” Sharon grabs the baby’s little hand, wriggling it to shoo you two away.

You don’t argue. Bucky hand Summer’s bag to Steve before you both kiss your baby goodbye. The little girl clearly is fine with spending a few hours apart from her parents, pointing joyfully towards the mini-playground Steve set up for her in his living room. 

~~

You have your fingers interlaced with Bucky’s in the elevator heading down to the garage. You can feel the tenseness in his body, it’s always hard for him to part from Summer, even if he knows she would be alright and safe. 

He can be such a nervous papa sometimes.

And grumpy.

“Steve, huh? Did you see the baby eyes he was giving Sharon? The dude is completely whipped,” you comment, trying to soothe the papa’s worries away with some easy conversation.

He huffs, keeping the tenseness on his muscles, “Did we tell Sharon about the candy rule? I know Steve will just give Summer anything she wants and then lie about it. Everyone keeps saying he’s shitty at lying, but I know better,” he lets out an unamused little laugh, “That jerk is a magnificent liar when he wants to.”

“Hey, hey,” you turn towards him, finding it hard to hold back a laugh at his little rant. 

You can’t help but think he’s adorably sexy. 

That big ass man, who’s been through so much and faced it all like a champ, being so nervous and broody about parting a few hours from his little baby. 

Actually, it makes the enormous love you have for him grow even deeper inside your heart. 

You pull him to you through your interlaced hands, rest your hand on his broad chest and prop a little kiss on his tightened jaw, and then another on the other side, smirking as you feel the tenseness melting under your hand and lips, “Summer will be fine, you know that, right? But…” 

You drag your mouth to his neck and his arm circle your waist, pulling you closer, his breath speeding, “If you want, we can call it a night-”

With a tight hold on you, he shifts you two and your back meets the elevator’s wall. You feel his lips and body pressed against yours with the underlying desire that's always been there. 

You curl your arms around his neck while his hands explore your body, reaching for as much skin as your short, but long sleeved dress allows him to. It ignites a fire inside you that has always and will always be his, only his. 

You take in a deep and needed breath when his lips leave yours. His hands stay on you, one your ass, another cupping the back of your neck. Your mind is still in a bit of a daze when his forehead rests on yours.

“She’ll be alright”, you two say in unison. A smile curls your lips when he laughs.

After the elevator gets to the garage, you two walk to the car, never ceasing to touch each other in some way, hands and lips. When he opens the SUV’s door for you, he kisses your neck, nuzzling against it before letting you get in the front seat.  

“Where are we going?” You ask as he gets in the car beside you, grabbing the wheel. You have arranged that date night last minute so there has been no time to choose a place or to make reservations beforehand. “I doubt we’ll find a table at this hour.”

He laughs quietly, while reaching over to place a kiss on your shoulder, like he can’t stay a minute without touching you. “Oh honey…” His hot breath fans against your skin, making your eyes flutter, “What is being friends with Tony Stark good for?” He keeps kissing you, reaching the sensitive skin of your neck. “All we have to do is drop his name and they’ll sit your pretty ass anywhere you want.”

Your chuckle dies out in a moan when his teeth find your earlobe, “Alright,” you whisper, your breath coming out fast as you feel the warmth of his tongue against your skin, “How about that Italian on the 87th? You really liked it there last time.”

“Hmm, sounds delicious,” he whispers, reaching his hand to grab your breast through your dress, with a not so gentle touch.

Your head falls back on the headrest, “And, hum, how about,” you take in a deep breath as he uses his teeth on your neck and his fingers on your nipples, making them harden even with the fabric of your dress and your bra as a barrier, “How about that new Japanese Wanda was talking about?”

“Yummy.” His hand slides down from your breast and your legs open, inviting him. 

Biting your lower lip, you wait for it.

When his fingers find you bare down there, his body freezes and he leans back to look at you. His eyes widen but it’s just a second before he squints dangerously at you. 

Desire all over his darkening blue eyes.

“Well, well, well,” he sinks a finger between your folds, and you bite your lips, “Look at that… my naughty girl.” He slides his finger up and down, spreading your wetness, “Thinking about all those fancy places to go wearing nothing underneath her pretty, pretty dress. What are you up to, sweetheart?”

“I knew, hah— kne I-.” You gasp as his middle finger presses against your clit, “I knew we would end up in a situation like this eventually.”

“Eventually, huh?” He chuckles, adoration adorns his face as his gaze drops on your lips, “What a naughty momma I have at home...” His sultry low voice caresses your ears, “Thinking about being fucked all day long…” He groans, “That’s all I’ve been thinking about too, baby, having you here like this.” 

His mouth seeks yours and he kisses you, bringing a moan out of you as he captures your lower lip between his teeth and speeds up the pace of his fingers in your pussy.

The tightness in your core gets stronger, following the rhythm of his relentless moves. You gasp and you grab his arm by impulse, while, using your other hand, you hook your fingers on his dog tags, pulling him closer to you. He takes that as a hint to drag his teeth and tongue against your jaw and neck.

The air inside the car is hot and you can feel droplets of sweat gathering on your forehead. His name falls out of your lips as your hips grind against his hand and the seat. The coils of desire twist you from inside when his teeth meet your earlobe. 

A particularly elaborated curl of his finger strokes your clit, your body freezes before your legs lock his hand between them, and you sob at the strong rush of pleasure that runs down from your core to your whole skin. 

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful when you come,” Bucky whispers against your ear, gliding his finger lazily up and down your pussy as fervent pleasure washes over you.

Breathless, you tilt your head to kiss him, your tongue twirling around his as the hand you had on his arm reaches to palm his evident erection through his pants, “Baby,” you break the sloppy kiss, resting your hot forehead on his, his breath coming out fast as you keep rubbing your hand on him, “I need you inside me.”

It all happens in a split of a second. 

All of sudden your seat is dragged and reclined further back. In a hurry, you start bunching up your dress up your waist as Bucky jumps to your side and between your legs. 

With no patience left in you, you help him with his belt and push down his pants just enough to give you space to pull his cock out. You take him in your hand, hard and pulsing. 

He seems just as desperate to be inside you as he places his hand over yours to guide himself to your pussy, which is soaked enough to allow him to enter you with ease, despite his ever challenging size.

You both cry out at the sensation of the longed connection and your heels meet the windshield behind him as he starts moving. His hands reach over to hold the backseat behind you to support himself. 

It’s an odd position in a not so comfortable place, but you both are too lost in the need to feel each other to care, so you make it work. 

Your fingers tangle in his hair as he dips his head in the crook of your neck and curl an arm under your it, pulling you impossibly closer, cheek to cheek. He thrusts into you hard and deep and fast, blurring your surroundings. 

All you feel is him, his weight on you, his cock filling you up, his deep moans mingling with yours.

You move a hand to sink it beneath his Henley, relishing at the hard and toned muscles under your touch. 

He’s so fucking beautiful. 

And yours. 

The reminder makes you curl your panting lips in a smile. 

He whimpers when you bring your legs to wrap the small of his back in a tight hold, like you’re trying to melt into him, into the deep sensations he brings to your body as he sinks in and out of you, your wetness allowing him to move with wanton speed.

You’re so close again, his hip bones rubbing against your clit adds to the feeling of his perfect pulsing cock inside you, hitting that sweet spot he’s familiar with. He cups your breast harshly, the wetness and warmth of his tongue on your neck makes your pussy flutter and your upper body jerks under his weight when a blinding pleasure washes over you for the second time.

He leans back to watch as your eyes squeeze shut and your mouth opens in a silent cry, “Yeah, that’s it, baby, come all over this cock,” he encourages before dropping his lips on your neck again, the rhythm of his hips falters and his moans come out in that raspy and maddening sexy sound of his voice.

Your mind is clouded up, dizzy and wonderfully light. 

Your arms are firm around him, holding him as he desperately picks up his pace, seeking his own pleasure until his hips stutter once again. He lets out a long groan, his hips thrusting deep inside you before his whole body tenses. Your breath hitches and your lips curl in a delighted smile as you feel the spurts of his desire in you. 

Keeping your bodies connected, you two relish into the aftermath of loving each other. Having his heart hammer against yours is a sensation you will never tire of. . 

“Are we pushing for another kid already?” You’re the first one to speak, your fingers running down his locks. You feel him smile against the crook of your neck.

“Wouldn’t mind another girl,” he murmurs, prepping a sweet kiss on your skin, making you shrug your shoulder and chuckle.

Of course he would want another girl, just so she turns into as much as a daddy’s girl as Summer. 

Maybe one day… Now you rely on your monthly shots to keep Summer as an only child. 

At least for a while.

He leans back to look at you, the tips of his hair fall around his incredibly handsome face, and your hands run down his chest, resting there. His adoring smile makes the corners of his eyes wrinkle and it’s a mirror of yours. 

Your heart hurts the most delicious pain.

You love this man so much and the most wonderful sensation in the world is to be sure he loves you too, and that you’re both right for each other, no matter what happened before and what may come ahead.

“So, where do you wanna go?” His eyes follow the path of his finger as he gently slides it over the traces of your face, “You know I’ll go anywhere with you.” His blue gaze stares deeply into yours.

You take in a deep breath. Maybe it’s the sensation of him still inside you, maybe it’s the look on his face or the touch of his fingers. But you now know exactly where you wanna go.

 “You know what I’m really craving right now?” You ask.  

“What?” He asks absentmindedly before pecking your lips.

“Giordano’s.” You giggle when you spot the gleam that flashes in his eyes at the name of the place you order pizza from almost every Saturday night. “Do you want to, maybe, huh, go upstairs…” You skim your hands over his pecks, “Order a big ass pie and, while we wait, we can think about what we’ll want for dessert before picking Summer up at Steve’s?” You wiggle your eyebrows at him.  

The wide grin he gives you before running his tongue over his lips tells you exactly what he’ll want for dessert.

 ~~~

The End. 

(Hope you guys liked it! Feedback is appreciated and longed for!

[sjsmith56]

Summary - 2 part story. Four years after leaving Bucky, his former girlfriend arrives at the compound with two surprises.

Length - 2.75K

Characters - Bucky Barnes, named female character, Steve Rogers, Tony Stark, Bruce Banner, Sharon Carter, Helen Cho, Wanda Maximoff.

Warnings - angst, accusations of cheating, cancer, rejection, Bucky not handling the situation well, swearing.

Author notes - was supposed to be a one shot but it kept getting longer. Part 1 is going to be full of drama. If you like what you’re reading please let me know by commenting or reblogging.

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

Part 1

It was there in black and white. All the tests, all of the imaging that had been done; everything pointed to the same conclusion. Lane sighed, pursed her lips together in a grim smile then looked at the doctors.

“I would like a second opinion,” she said. “Could you send my file to Dr. Bruce Banner and Dr. Helen Cho of the Avengers?”

“You’re a patient of them?” asked Dr. Roberts.

“No, I was an agent at one time,” she replied. “They’ll look at it as a courtesy to me.”

“If they concur? Anything that can be done would only be palliative.”

“I understand,” said Lane. “I’ll be in touch.”

There was a ringing sound in her ears as she left the office and went down the elevator to the main floor. Before the door opened she took a deep breath and calmed herself. The nanny had Danny on her lap on one of the lobby chairs, reading a story to him. He turned his head when he heard Lane’s footsteps coming out of the elevator. Already, at 3 ½ years of age, he was displaying his abilities and he wriggled off Carol’s lap, running to his mother.

“Momma, are you done?” he asked. “Can we go for lunch? I’m hungry.”

“Sure, baby,” she smiled, kneeling down to his level. “We’ll get something to eat, then we’ll go to the playground, okay?”

She stood up, taking him by the hand, smiling at Carol, the nanny, who knew her well enough to know the news wasn’t good. Taking Danny by the other hand she looked at Lane as they walked towards the exit.

“What’s next?”

“Banner and Cho are going to look at my file,” replied Lane. “But I don’t think they’ll be able to do anything.” She glanced sideways at the woman who became her good friend this past year. “I know, I’ll have to tell him. I just … I just wanted Danny to have as normal a life as possible.”

As they stepped outside the building she looked up at the blue sky, feeling the sun on her face, and hearing the sound of birdsong in the trees. For a moment, she felt her throat constrict, at the thought of not being there for her son, but she swallowed it down. If Bruce and Helen couldn’t help her then she would tell Bucky, tell him what she had kept from him when she left the Avengers over four years before.

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

Bucky landed the quinjet on the platform of Stark Tower, then went through his checklist before shutting the aircraft down. Behind him he could hear people standing up, groaning and stretching after the long flight from Australia, where they had undertaken a humanitarian rescue in a gold mine, after it collapsed. Feeling a hand on his shoulder he looked behind him at Steve’s face.

“Beers?” he asked.

“Yeah, but shower first,” replied Bucky. “I swear I’m still caked with the dirt from the rescue.”

Grabbing his go bag he followed the others out and they made their way to the residential level, all of them crammed together into the elevator. With being pretty ripe from the long flight they all held their breath as best they could before streaming out of the opening doors. After entering the door code of his quarters Bucky dropped his bag off inside the door, toed off his boots and stripped down as he walked, coveting the warm shower that beckoned to him.

Fifteen minutes later, with clean clothes on he stepped out of his quarters and headed to the lounge area. Steve already had several beers on the counter, handing one to Bucky and Sam who was right behind him. As others followed he gave them a beer and they all fell onto the big sectional couch, taking long pulls of the refreshing beverage. Just as Bucky took a second long drink of his bottle Friday interrupted the quiet of the gathering.

“Sergeant Barnes, would you please report to the medical lab?” the voice asked. “Dr. Banner wishes to see you.”

“Why?” asked the super soldier. “I just sat down and want to relax.”

“Yes sir,” replied Friday. “I’m not a liberty to state the reason except it is important that you report there.”

Draining his beer Bucky stood up and placed the bottle on the counter, scowling as he headed to the elevator. When it opened on the floor of the medical lab he was surprised to see Bruce, Dr. Cho, and Tony Stark all together in the lab. There was a fourth person in there but they were seated and he couldn’t make out who it was from outside the sliding doors.

“What’s so important that I had to come up here?” he asked as he entered.

Then the fourth person stood up and faced him, leaving him almost speechless.

“Hello, Bucky,” said Lane, her voice tentative. “I asked for you to be here.”

“What the hell? You walk out of my life over 4 years ago, without a word and suddenly you’re demanding to see me? What’s going on?”

“Sit down, Barnes,” said Tony, tersely. “Lane thinks you should have a say in this. I don’t agree, but I’ve been overruled.”

“A say in what?” asked Bucky, feeling the anger bubble up inside him.

“I’m dying,” said Lane, deciding to rip the bandage all the way off. She took her wig off so he could see her lack of hair from the radiation treatment she endured. “It means that our son should be with his father.” Bucky said nothing but he was shocked at her almost bald head and his face turned a brilliant shade of red. “You’re a father. His name is Daniel James, and he’s 3 ½ years old. If you don’t take him I’ll have to put him up for adoption.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked, his heavy breathing indicating how precarious his control was at that moment. Then he looked at the other three. “Did you all know?”

“It was my decision to keep it from you,” said Lane. “They only found out after he was born, and I asked them not to tell you. I wanted him to have a chance at a normal childhood. That wasn’t going to happen with how you were then.”

“How I was then? I was in love with you!” Bucky was shouting now. “You were it for me. Then I come back from a mission and you’re gone. Everything belonging to you, gone. Why?”

Lane closed her mouth in a grim line and shook her head. She knew it would be like this. Taking a deep breath she straightened her posture to appear as tall as she could and looked him in the eye.

“You were so in love with me that you slept with Sharon when I went to see my mom before she died,” she stated calmly. “You didn’t even take her panties out of the bed, Bucky. I found them there when I changed the sheets when I got back. Our sheets reeked of her perfume. You cheated on me.” She turned away, angry at herself for thinking this was a good idea. “Forget it. I’ll find someone to adopt Danny, someone who won’t lie or sneak around with another woman.”

“I didn’t sleep with her,” he said, his voice breaking. “She was in the bed waiting for me and I walked out. I slept on Steve’s couch until we went out on a mission. You can ask him. Please, Lane, I didn’t cheat. I wouldn’t do that to you.”

She kept her back turned to him, trying not to break down. The others watched him, not sure what to believe then Bucky turned around and went to the elevator, returning to the lounge area. Practically storming to where the others were he glared at Sharon Carter, his lip curled in fury.

“It was your fault,” he sneered. “Your little stunt made Lane leave me. I loved her and wanted to marry her but you didn’t respect that. Because of you I wasn’t there for her when she gave birth to my son. Did any of you know?” He looked at Steve as the others tried not to make eye contact with Bucky. “Did you know I was a father and you didn’t tell me? Did you all think I slept with Sharon?”

“Buck, I didn’t know that Lane had a baby,” said Steve. “I’ll tell her you slept on my couch after finding Sharon in your bed, but I didn’t know that’s why she left. Lane left all of us without a word.”

“Not all of us,” interjected Wanda. “It wasn’t for us to tell you. It was Lane’s decision to leave and her decision not to tell you she was pregnant. I’m sorry.”

Shaking his head in disbelief, Bucky’s face went dark with betrayal and anger.

“Fuck you all.”

Turning around he went to his room and repacked his go bag, converting it to a backpack, then put his leathers and motorcycle boots on. Taking the stairs he went down to the garage, mounted his motorcycle and started it up. Steve came out of the elevator, stopping in front of him.

“Don’t do this,” he said. “Don’t fly off the handle. You have a chance to make it better but if you leave ….”

“If I leave, what?” demanded Bucky. “She was everything to me. Now I find out that she thought I was cheating on her. I have a son that she’s giving up for adoption because she’s dying and she’d rather a stranger have him than his own father. How do you think that makes me feel, Steve, huh? I have nothing now, nothing to keep me here.”

He glared at Steve until the blond stepped aside then roared out of the garage on his motorcycle, barely waiting for the automatic door to open. Closing his eyes and shaking his head Steve turned back to the elevator and went up to the medical level, hoping to catch Lane before she left. She was still in the medical lab, crying as Tony hugged her. Right away Steve noticed she had no hair on her head and his heart dropped. When Steve entered Tony looked angrily at him.

“I told you something like this would happen when you first vouched for him to be an Avenger,” he said. “We couldn’t trust him.”

“He didn’t sleep with Sharon,” stated Steve. “We were working out and came back to the rooms to shower. He found her already in their bed, told her to get the hell out, and left. Until we went on a mission he slept on my couch. I’m guessing she left her underwear in there to cause the rift. Not that it matters now. He’s gone.”

Lane stopped crying and turned to Steve. “What do you mean, gone?”

“He packed a bag, put his leathers on and rode out on his motorbike. According to him he now has nothing to keep him here, since you would rather have a stranger adopt your son than have Bucky take him.”

Lane buried her face in her hands, certain that she had destroyed any possibility of making amends with the man she still loved.

“Friday, call Sharon Carter here,” said Tony. “Might as well confirm it from one of the guilty parties.”

“Tony ….”

Steve shook his head, angry at the way Tony automatically assumed that Bucky was in the wrong. Then he remembered what his friend had said about Lane.

“Is it true? Are you dying?”

She nodded her head. “The same breast cancer that killed my mother. Even though I had a double mastectomy and radiation treatment it metastasized. It’s everywhere. I have months left. I was hoping … I don’t know what I was hoping for.”

The sliding glass doors opened and Sharon Carter walked in, then almost walked out when she saw Lane.

“No, you get in here,” said Tony. “I want the truth and remember Friday can tell when someone is lying. Did you sleep with Bucky while Lane was visiting her dying mother?”

All sorts of emotions played over Sharon’s face as she looked from person to person, then she finally shook her head.

“No, I was waiting for him but as soon as he saw me he told me to get the hell out,” she admitted. “I left my panties there and sprayed the sheets with my perfume, hoping Lane would leave him so I could be with him instead. After she left he wouldn’t even look at me. I’m sorry.”

Tony was furious, at himself as much as at Sharon. “Pack your stuff and get out,” he said. “I don’t care where you go but we can’t trust you to have our backs.”

“Please, it was a mistake,” she protested. “I haven’t tried anything like that since. Being in the Avengers is all I have.”

“No, I don’t want you here,” he said. “Because of you a good man has left the Avengers, and a small boy is without his father.” He looked sarcastically at Steve. “I know, I’m not much better as I didn’t believe him but I’m willing to try to fix this. Getting rid of her is the first step.”

“Steve, please, don’t let Tony do this,” cried Sharon. “You’re a team leader. Tell him I’m not like that anymore.”

“I wish I could,” said Steve. “Sorry, but I’m with Tony on this. Bucky wasn’t the only one you did this sort of thing to.”

Sharon turned red. “I don’t know what you mean,” she declared, breathing audibly.

“Peter and MJ,” replied Steve. “He told me. The kid was practically shaking with anger that you would do that. You should go, Sharon. Otherwise, we’ll have to put it to a vote and you don’t want to know what the others think of you.”

“Fine, I’m going.” She turned around then looked back, her face full of disgust. “You’ll regret this. I know a lot of your secrets.”

“Be careful who you threaten,” warned Tony. “Friday, remove all access to the facilities, including computer access and anything else that has been granted to Sharon Carter. She can get into her room to get packed but once she leaves the building remove that as well. You signed an NDA when you became an Avenger, Sharon. You say anything, I have every right to sue you for everything you own, and make it impossible for you to work anywhere ever again.”

Tony called security to escort Sharon to her quarters to pack and escort her out. Then he faced Lane, placing both his hands on her upper arms.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “If you had told me this four years ago I would have dealt with it then.” He glanced at Bruce. “Are you sure there’s nothing that can be done?”

Bruce and Helen looked at each other uneasily. “A long shot,” he replied. “I can try to recreate the serum using Steve’s blood as he has type O blood, universal donor. But we don’t know if we have the time to do it before ….”

“How much blood do you need?” asked Steve immediately, his attention focused on Bruce.

“A unit, from both of you,” he said. “We’ll test it on your blood first, Lane, but I can’t promise anything. I mean I worked years on the serum and look what it did to me. My track record isn’t that good.”

Lane’s lips trembled. “The only other treatment for me is palliative,” she stated. “Even if you just buy me time that’s more than I have now.”

While Bruce and Helen took their blood Tony used Friday to track Bucky by his vibranium arm. He was on one of the expressways.

“Take one of my cars,” said Tony to Steve. “I’d go but I don’t think he would take my apology.”

“I’m coming with you,” added Lane. “The first to apologize to him should be me.”

As soon as the two of them gave their blood they went down to the garage, taking one of Tony’s vehicles. While they drove out of the parking garage, Sharon Carter was put into a taxi, never to return to Stark Tower again. With Friday tracking Bucky they followed his route until the AI informed them that he arrived at a destination, hoping he didn’t do something stupid before they got there.

Part 2>>

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[paarthurnax59]

"Always Her Hero"

(images are not mine)

Pairings: Clark Kent x OC!(Eventually), Steve Rogers x Sharon Carter, Steve Rogers x OC!(unrequited)

important notes: I got this idea from reading a Steve fic called, "Get/Got Back Together" by @altriestowrite broke my heart in two but couldn't stop reading!!!!😢😭. Won't say what actually happened, but all I wanted was for Steve to suffer. (Sorry, I'm a Capricorn. I thirst for vengeance) 😁. anyway, I go this idea with a fic for Clark Kent and wanted to write this. I also wanted to give her the credit for writing this two shot and for breaking our hearts. None of these characters are mine and all belong to their respective owners.

Warnings: Angst, fluff, Steve being a dick and a horrible friend, insecure b*tchy girlfriend, heartbreak, unrequited love, romance,old friends, farm animals, Clark being a KING!, Bruce Wayne’s sass, Peter being a great friend, cheating, violence, action, crazy bestie going to prison and heartbreak. (OC is also depicted as Caucasian/white with bright blue eyes. There is a reason as you all read the story, so please give it a chance. 🙏🥺. I'm putting my heart and soul into this story.)

Introduction: Hope Parker worked for Tony Stark as a security analyst and forensic scientist at the compound, thanks to her cousin, Peter Parker. She had the ability to speak to animals and often spend more time with them than people. Over that time, she developed feelings for the handsome super-solider Named Steve Rogers. However, there was one drawback. His very insecure girlfriend, Sharon Carter. she was sent on a mission with the team for the first time. It went completely south and she was blamed. Sharon eventually broke up with Steve. He blamed Hope and stopped talking to her.

A month later, Steve Rogers asked her out of the blue. Her heart fluttered at it. It wasn't until Hope realized that his intentions were far less than noble or pure. He used her to get back to the person he really loved, Sharon Carter. He broke Hope's heart and her life completely fell apart. Losing everything, her job, friends and her home. All due to the actions made by one person hell bent on filling her life with lies, humiliation and pain.

Then, a day came when Hope ran into a man she hadn't seen in ten years. Clark Kent, her childhood best friend. He recently made a job transfer to the ‘Daily Bugle’ as a reporter and start a new life away from Metropolis. Over the course of the few weeks, Hope and Clark rekindle that friendship they had before she Smallville. She felt freer and happier as they strengthened their bond. After that, her life began to change drastically, leading to new friends, old friends, once in a lifetime opportunities, secrets and discovering who she is and a great destiny that will change both her and Clark's relationship forever.

Book 1

Cast part 1

Cast Part 2

Prologue - Goodbye, Smallville

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

More to come...

please love, comment and reblog this post!!!

[3mcwriting]

Any Fan's Dream, Part 18

Any Fan's Dream Masterlist

Synopsis:

When you look around and see Avengers Tower in front of you and Peter Parker beside you, you wonder how the hell you managed to get into the MCU.

Taglist: @secretly-sirens, @zeeader, @imdoingathingmom, @x-theolivia, @ainsley-official, @huntress-artemiss, @hoohoohope, @ourgoddessathena, @wiintaersoldier, @vine-enthusiast, @afraidofshrimp, @myfturn, @im-better-than-your-newborn, , @mjaudrey, @igotthisasajokeyetimstillhere, @starr60, @coldmermaidhologram, @daenerysluvrr, @viperchick47, @marvelwomen-arehot, @mynightandstars

Sorry to everyone who the tagging isn't working, I'm not sure why but I hope you manage to find this anyway :))

An explosion went off in the distance, drawing the attention of the two individuals inside the large building. 

Thinking that they finally came to get her, Wanda asked, "What is it?"

Vision didn't answer her question. "Stay here, please." And he phased through the walls, going to confront whoever or whatever had triggered the explosion.

Whirling around, Wanda sent a knife flying toward the intruder, the crimson of her chaos magic a glowing blur as the sharp object flew through the air.

As he knocked aside the knife pointed at his face, Clint smiled nonchalantly.  "Guess I shoulda knocked."

"Oh my god," Wanda moved closer to him. "What are you doing here?"

"Disappointing my kids." With a purposeful flourish, Clint shot two arrows to opposite sides of the large room. "I'm supposed to go water-skiing." Clint strode away, pulling Wanda with him. "Cap needs our help. Come on."

"Clint." Vision phased through the wall. "You should not be here."

He turned around. "Really? I retire for, what, like five minutes, and it all goes to shit."

"Please consider the consequences of your actions." Vision moved closer.

"Okay, they're considered." Clint turned to Wanda. "Okay, we gotta go." Electricity crackled as it shot out from the arrows Clint had shot previously, capturing Vision. "It's this way."

Clint realized Wanda wasn't following him and turned around.

She stood there. "I've caused enough problems."

Clint ran back to the young woman. "You gotta help me, Wanda. Look, you wanna mope, go to high school. You wanna make amends, you get off your ass. Shit."

Vision broke out of the force field and darted forward quickly, punching Clint to the floor.

Clint rose. "I knew I should've stretched." He extended his baton, but the strike was useless, simply going through Vision's form. He struggled to land a blow on Vision but in the end, Vision had him in a headlock. 

"Clint, you can't overpower me."

"I know I cant." His eyes darted to the most powerful person in the room. "But she can."

A pulsing red globe of power was glowing between Wanda's hands as she circled Vision. "Vision, that's enough. Let him go. I'm leaving."

Arms still around Clint's neck, Vision looked at the woman. "I can't let you."

Wanda moved her arms in one fluid motion, contorting the sphere of power she controlled. The Mind Stone in Vision's forehead turned red, and he released Clint from his grasp, looking at his hands questioningly.

"I'm sorry." Wanda moved her hands closer to each other, Vision staggering under her power. 

"If you do this..." he faltered, "they will never stop being afraid of you."

"I can't control their fear, only my own." And with one final movement, she thrusted her arm out, hitting Vision with a beam of pure power and pushing him through the floor. She didn't stop until she was sure he wouldn't be able to stop them from leaving.

Looking down the very large hole that had just been created, Clint sighed. "Oh, come on. We got one more stop."

~~

"Not sure you understand the concept of a getaway car." Sharon Carter spoke, eyes on the small blue car Steve had just exited.

"It's low profile."

Sharon faced her car. "Good, because this stuff tends to draw a crowd." She popped open the trunk, vibranium shield glinting as the light hit it. 

Steve looked at the gear and back at Sharon. "I owe you again."

"Keeping a list." She glanced back at the car Steve had come in, eyes landing on the man who had been brainwashed. "You know, he kinda tried to kill me"

Steve nodded. "Sorry. I'll put that on the list, too."

The two looked at the items in the car, the items that held far too much significance to far too many people to just be pieces of metal. Each one was a symbol; a symbol and a reminder, just like Steve was. 

Steve spoke up, knowing what would happen. "They're going to come looking for you."

"I know." Sharon looked him in the eyes. "But Aunt Peggy would've done the same thing. Hell, she would've figured out how to stop this whole mess and get your team back together.

Steve let a soft laugh fall from his lips. "Yeah, she would have." He stuck out his hand. "Still, thank you."

She shook his hand. "No problem, Captain America." 

~~

"Is that...Thor?" Natasha sounded just as confused as you were. 

"So, I'm not hallucinating." Which meant you had fucked the timeline up (which was your goal) but having Thor come back in Civil War hadn't been what you were aiming for, although you might be able to make it work to your advantage.

"Uhhh..." you watched as he got closer, "Nat, he doesn't look like he's slowing down."

"No, he does not." Natasha moved quickly, grabbing you by the hand and running just in time for Thor to come bursting through the large window with a crash like thunder (which was awfully fitting). Sending shards of glass around the floor where Thor now stood.

You and Natasha stood there, watching as he brushed the glass off himself, hardly a scratch on the new arrival. 

"What are you doing here, Thor?" Natasha questioned, wondering if he had somehow heard about the disagreement between the team. If he had, she wasn't sure which side he would be on but she had the nagging feeling he'd be a little more team Cap than Tony.

Thor grinned, wide and jolly. "Well, I did tell Lady (y/n) I'd be back soon, did I not?"

~~

You forced a smile on your face, trying to appear happy. "I know," you managed, "can you promise to come back soon?" 

You weren't sure if just asking was enough to make a difference, or even if he would be able to follow your request, but you would take any scrap of hope you could because you were not gonna allow everything to end up the same.

Thor smiled at you softly, the first time you've seen him expressing something other than excitement or joy. It was simple fondness and adoration, "I swear to you, I will return.

~~

You were frozen. 

He-

He had come back because you had asked?

You threw your arms around Thor, almost squealing because of the realization that this literal golden retriever of a person had returned just to ease your worries. You didn't understand the hate that Thor got. Like, sure he was arrogant as hell in his first movie, but he went through character development and he became such a sweetheart who always drank his respect women juice. 

Thor was more than happy to hug you back, of course he was. He could never say no to hugs from people he admired and respected. 

"You're pretty awesome, Thor," you said, voice muffled from the hug.

He laughed. "You are too, Lady (y/n)."

Natasha watched with a smile on her face, happy that you were finally smiling like before. Her smile faded when she remembered that she had to call Tony and inform him of the unexpected arrival. 

Sighing, she left the room and made the call.

~~

You watched Natasha leave the room, separating from the hug with Thor as you did so. 

Your head was still pulsing with a mild headache but you were able to ignore it and focus on Thor.

"Okay, so, we kinda gotta go," you told him. "Like, right now."

Thor tilted his head, confused. "Why is that, Lady (y/n)?" 

You tried to figure out how to explain the situation. "Well, there was like this big government thing- actually, long story short, the team is fighting and we have to keep them from breaking up."

"Oh." Thor looked contemplative. "Alright. What must we do?"

You thanked the universe that Thor was such a real one. Any of the other Avengers and you probably would've had to explain a bit more. Thankfully, it was Thor. 

"Uh..." 

What were you going to do?

"We'll figure that out later." You definitely knew what you were doing. "For now, we have to leave."

Thor wasn't stupid. 

Sure, he was oblivious at times and not the greatest at reading social cues, but he wasn't completely dense. He noticed how you waited until the two of you were alone and figured that you were being confined to this- what did the mortals call them? Nevermind that. 

He could see the bags beneath your eyes and the worried set of your jaw. 

"Is there a plan to leave?" Thor asked. "Or shall Mjolnir be of use?"

Mjolnir? Be of use....

No way.

Was he- was he offering to fly the two of you on Mjolnir?

If not for the urgency the situation called for, you would've taken the time to properly process and appreciate the amazing world you'd been dropped in. Unfortunately, you had to hurry up before Nat finished her call.

"I think Mjolnir should definitely be of use." The words bursted from your mouth with all the eagerness of an overexcited toddler. 

Thor smiled at how delighted you seemed, letting out a hardy laugh. "Alright, then. Shall we depart?"

You swallowed, glancing back at the hallway Natasha had disappeared down. 

You had to do this. 

Who knows if any other opportunities would appear? With Natasha and Tony's concern for you, you doubted they'd let you leave, better yet join them at the airport fight scene.

This could be the last chance you got to stop everything from going straight to hell. 

And for that very reason, you mustered up every speck of confidence you had, squared your shoulders, and left with Thor.

(You definitely did not go absolutely batshit when you and Thor flew through the air, pulled by Mjolnir. It reminded you of when Peter had swung you through New York, but instead of the up and down, you were going straight through the air like a bullet in Mario Kart. It was awesome.)

~~

Steve set his eyes on the newest recruit. "They tell you what we're up against?"

"Something about some..." Scott searched for the words, "psycho assassins?"

"We're outside the law on this one. So, if you come with us, you're a wanted man."

~~

Tony answered the call. "What happened?"

Peter looked up, curious. He had been fiddling with his hands the whole ride there, nervous about what he had agreed to and excited to see you again. 

Natasha's voice came through the phone. "Thor is back."

"What?" Tony could hardly comprehend what she had said. "He's back? Why?"

"I don't know, he just got here." Natasha went quiet for a moment, knowing what a threat Thor could pose if he was an opponent.

"Does he know what's happening?" Tony asked, referring to the catastrophe that was the Accords situation. 

"I doubt it." Natasha's voice was clipped. "But, Tony, if he sides with Steve...we can't beat them in a fight. We don't have the numbers and you're already scrounging up teenagers.

Tony winced. "He won't side with Steve- he doesn't know what's happening."

"Tony, they compared him and Bruce to nukes." Natasha reminded him. "You know that Ross sees him as just another weapon. Thor would never take the side of the Accords..."

"What?" Tony prompted, knowing she had more to say.

Natasha hesitated a moment. "Are you sure we're doing the right thing? Even you have to agree that the Accords are seriously flawed."

"I-" Tony could only think of the wreckage they left behind, "- I know they're not perfect. But we need to be regulated. And if we sign we can negotiate for better terms. Steve, the others- they're fugitives now. The only shot we got is to get them to sign it."

"Steve will never sign it. You know that." They both did. "And he isn't the only problem. What do we do about Thor?"

Tony rubbed his temples. "I'll call the others and tell them to meet up back at the hotel, we have to sort this out and do it fast."

Natasha agreed and ended the call, leaving Tony hunched over in his private jet with his head in his hands. 

"Um..." Peter spoke up. "What happened, Mr. Stark?"

Tony looked at the teenager. "We have to make a stop."

"What? Where?"

"One of my hotels. There's a problem," Tony looked him in the eyes. "You'll get to see (y/n), though."

Peter straightened. "Why? Is something wrong? Is she-"

"She's alright," Tony tilted his head. "You care about (y/n) a lot, don't you?"

Peter stiffened at the unexpected question. "Uh, yeah. (y/n)'s one of my best friends."

"Hmm," Tony looked at him through scrutinizing eyes. "(y/n) talks about you a lot, you know. I can't tell you how many times I've heard about how smart you are or how 'sweet' you are."

A flush spread across Peter's face. "She says that? I mean- she's very smart too and awesome-" Peter had to stop himself from babbling.

Tony wasn't blind to how much the teenager before him cared about you. He remembered how panicked Peter had been when you'd been kidnapped. 

He felt himself relax a little.

This kid would be there for you, even if Tony couldn't always.

~~

Steve looked to the sky, hearing the sound of air rushing by incredibly fast. What was actually there, though- he expected something to be there but certainly not what he actually saw-

Was that- was Thor back?

And the person clinging onto him?

He could only assume that was you. 

"Uh, Cap," Sam saw the approaching people too. "Are they on our side?"

"I-" Steve wished he could answer with confidence, but after how he had left you standing there, betrayal in your eyes, he didn't know if you were still on his side.

Quicker than he had expected, you were touching down in front of him, Thor standing beside you. 

"You guys really need to go." You were out of breath from the flight, adrenaline still coursing through you. "They're going to be here soon so you have to leave. Like, now."

It could've been a trap Tony set up.

Steve knew that.

But he looked you in the eyes and couldn't bring himself to believe that you were trying to deceive them.

"Alright." He nodded. "You all heard that, we have to go now." ~~

Shit, Natasha was calling again.

Tony answered the call. "Let me guess, Bruce is back too now-"

"They're gone."

Tony's breath stuttered. "What?"

"(y/n)...Thor...they left."

[andydrysdalerogers]

Yours Submissively ~ Consequences

Steve Rogers X OFC Isabella Davis

Summary: Five Years after the events of Civil War, Steve Rogers has moved on from avenging and has started his own business, Grant Inc. He has a secret that would turn his world upside down. And he's good at keep that secret. Until he meets the woman with violet eyes that could bring him to his knees. Now his mission is to make her, his. But she is the key that could bring the world into balance... or chaos.

And she has no idea.

Series Warnings: slow burn at the beginning, smut, angst, sexual themes of BDSM, dom/sub dynamics, kidnapping, loss of virginity, (and a bunch of others that will come up)

A/N: I was guilt tripped into posting this. For the record, I wasn't going to abandon you on the last part. But after this post, we have just four parts left. Eek!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Banners by me!

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS. Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated

Previous: Devious

Series Masterlist ~ Main Masterlist

Four months later… 

Steve walked down to the cells, lost in thought. He looked tired, deep in his emotions. Dressed in all black as he had been for months, he brought down a small package with him, a gift for an old friend.  As he walked through the empty cells, he thought back through his life.  How one person changed his life.  As he approached the final cell, he sighed.  “Hello Sharon.”  

“Steve!  I didn’t think you would visit me.”  Sharon Carter looked dirty, tired, her blonde hair dull and flat.  She had been in the cell for four months, stood trial and found guilty of treason and attempted murder.  She had planned Belle’s demise and now she would pay for it tomorrow with her life.  

Beck had left details of his plans and the players, all but sealing their fate when they were captured. It was the little solace that Steve found that justice had somewhat been served.  This was the final piece.  This person, not even a woman, had ended his hopes of a peaceful life. “I brought you something.”  

“A present for my execution. How curious.” Sharon looked at the man she loved with sorrow.  He was in pain, mourning.  “I could help you feel good,” she said with a sly smile.  

“Only my wife could do that,” Steve snarled at her.  “You are getting what you deserve.”  

“I wouldn’t have done it if I knew she was pregnant Steve.”  

“You’re a liar! You wanted Belle gone!” 

“I loved you!”  

“And I hate you,” he growled.  He threw the box through the slot in the glass.  

“What is it?” 

“Open it and see.” He stood in front of her, arms crossed.  

Sharon opened the box carefully.  She looked in saw a blue cloth. She pulled it out.  It was a blue onesie.  A tear formed in her eye when she spotted the pink color in the box.  Another onesie.  “Steve, I am…” 

“Save it!” Steve thought back to the day his life was turned upside down… 

He jumped onto the jet with Belle and he and Bucky immediately started pressure on her as Tony flew, Wanda started IVs.  Peter, Nat, Sam and Clint stayed behind to gather intel and clear the scene.  As soon as the gauze was in place, Steve held Belle’s hand and the other on her belly.  “Please baby, please, don’t leave me,” he wept.  

“Two minutes Cap,” Tony called out.  “Where is she shot?” 

“The abdomen,” Bucky called back. “Its slowing but I don’t know about…” he trailed off.  

“I love you,” Steve whispered to Belle, kissing her knuckles.  “I need you.  I need our family, baby please, just stay alive.”  

Tony landed the jet at the hospital and Steve picked up Belle and ran her in.  “Please help, my wife, she’s pregnant and she’s been shot. Please.”  The doctors and nurses ran forward with a gurney and started to run her back.  Steve made to follow but a nurse stopped him.  

“We need to work on your wife.  Please wait here.”  

“Please, just do whatever you need to save them.”  

“We’ll do everything we can.” She turned to run after the gurney and Steve felt Bucky and Tony’s hands on his shoulders. His shoulders shagged and he began to sob.  The guys moved him to the chairs to wait.  Steve became quiet, staring at a spot on the floor.  Time felt like it was moving so slow.  The rest of the team showed up, sitting around. Tony began to pace as Pepper brought in coffee and snacks.  

“Captain Rogers?” 

Steve’s head snapped up to look at a tired looking doctor. He stood up with Bucky right next to him.  “Belle?” 

“Mrs. Rogers lost a significant amount of blood.  The bullet entered her side and nicked her liver.  We stopped the bleeding but luckily the liver is regenerative, and she will make a full recovery.”  Bucky sagged and clapped his back.  The rest of the team exhaled but Steve needed one more piece of information.  

“And the baby?” 

“Your babies are perfect.  The amniotic sac was not affected at all since she is only eight or so weeks pregnant.”  

Steve looked at the doctor, his face shocked.  “Babies?” 

“Oh.” The doctor looked embarrassed.  “I assumed you were aware.  Yes, twins. Your wife is carrying twins. As I said, she’s between eight to nine weeks.  They have strong heartbeats and are perfect for their age.” The doctor smiles.  “She is still unconscious after the emergency surgery but if you would like to see her, I can take you up?” 

“Yes, yes please.”  Steve headed to follow the doctor but turned.  “Buck?” 

“Yeah, I’m right behind you.”  

Steve looked at the team.  “Thank you, guys.”  

“We’ll be here Steve,” Sam said.  The team nodded and Steve and Bucky followed the doctor.  

“Captain, because of the blood loss it may take some time for Mrs. Rogers to come around.  We checked for any injuries to her head to be sure, but we didn’t see any.  Her body may just need time to recover from the shock. We have her hooked up to monitors and two fetal monitors, one for each baby so don’t be alarms by the amount of equipment.”  

“But she’ll be ok?”  

“Yes, like I stated, we expect her to make a full recovery. My recommendation is to relax, hold her hand and talk to her. We’ll keep checking on her until she is awake and discharged.”  

“Thank you doctor.”  

“Ok, right in here.”  He pointed to a door and Steve walked in.  Belle looked smaller than normal in the bed.  She skin was pale, a startling contrast to her black hair. She looked peaceful except for the noises of the monitors.  But what truly shocked him with the twin heartbeats coming from the fetal monitors.  

Steve froze.  The sounds stunned him.  His babies, his children, were real and alive inside of their momma. Bucky nudged him forward and Steve took shaky steps towards the bed.  He pulled a chair close and took Belle’s hand.  “I’m here, sweet pea.”  He kissed it gently.  “We’re all here waiting for you to wake up. I love you. I love you all so much and you are going to be so surprise.”  

Bucky came to the other side.  “Hey sweetheart. You rest ok.  You’re growing my nieces or nephews.”  

“God Buck. Two of them.”  

“I know punk. I can’t believe it.”  

Steve kept vigil at Belle’s bedside for the next twenty-four hours. Her heartbeat got stronger with time. The team rotated in with Steve with Nat and Bucky finally convincing him to change out of his suit and shower in the ensuite. As the warm water ran over his body, Steve took the moment lose himself in his feelings. He almost lost her. He almost ruined the best thing in his life.  He almost lost his children. He grew angry, thinking of the people who tried to take her away.  He climbed out of the shower and dressed.  He walked out to see Sam and Bucky sitting by Belle’s head.  “Any updates?” 

“Vision has Sharon in a cell in the tower.  I took all we found there for FRIDAY to analyze,” Sam replied.  

“They also have Lila there as well,” Bucky said with a hard voice. “Tony and Nat will begin their interrogation of her within the hour.”  

“Bucky, I’m sorry about Lila.”  

“Don’t be.  She used me and my love for her to take my best friend. I can’t forgive that.”  

Steve pulled Bucky in for a hug and held his best friend as he finally let some emotion shows. They talked quietly, with Steve never letting go of Belle’s hand.  A couple of hours later, Steve was leaning against the bed when he felt a movement in his hand. He blinked his eyes open and looked at Belle.  Her violet eyes open, still struggling but open. “Hi.” 

He cuts Sharon off. “Jealous should be the word that comes out of your mouth.” Steve smirked at her.  “Belle is having twins. My boy and my girl.” He leaned forward to the glass.  “What? You think she died in that attack?” 

Sharon blinked. They never mentioned Belle’s status during the trial.  She just assumed she was dead. Sharon began screaming in rage, slamming her fist to the unbreakable glass. “You son of a bitch!” 

“I won’t be in the gallery tomorrow, Sharon. Enjoy death.”  Steve walked out of the cells, the sounds of Sharon’s screams fading with every step.  

“Was that necessary amore mio?” 

Steve spun to see Belle standing next to the doorway to the cells. “After what she tried to do to you and my children, absolutely.”  Steve placed his hand over Belle’s six-month bump.  “How are they today?” 

“Just flutters.  Should feel them any day.”  Belle smiled up at her husband.  

“I can’t wait. Wanna feel my princess and my boy.  

Belle smiled. “I wanna feel them too.” 

“Hi sweet pea.”  He leaned forward to press his forehead to hers and then placed a gentle kiss to her lips. “I’m so happy you’re awake my love.”  He kissed her forehead and pulled back to look at her.  

“What happened?” 

“When you elbowed Beck, the gun went off and you were shot.  It was a through and through, but it nicked your liver.  You’re gonna be fine.”  

Belle nodded in understanding but suddenly gasped and sat up.  “The baby?” 

“Shh. Easy love. Everything is ok.  They are ok.  The babies are perfectly healthy and safe.”  

“Babies?  What do you mean babies?”  Belle reached for her stomach.  Steve laid his hand on top of hers.  

“Lay back Belle.  Its ok”. He laid her down and sat on the edge of the bed.  “You are pregnant with twins, my love.  They checked when they took you to surgery.”  

“Twins?  Oh my god, twins!” 

Steve lifted her hand and kissed her palmed and then placed her small hand on his face. The beard tickled her hand, and she smiled but Steve frowned. “I’m so sorry Belle.”   

“Baby…” 

“No let me finish.  I am so sorry for keeping the truth from you.  I’m sorry for lying.  I am so sorry that I put you here. Please don’t leave me.” Belle felt a few tears escape her eyes.  Steve cupped her face and used his thumb to clear the tears. “Please don’t cry love. Please, I am so…” 

“I’m sorry too,” she blurted out.  “I’m sorry I ran.  I’m sorry I didn’t listen. Please don’t hate me.”  

Steve climbed into bed with her as she clung to his shirt and cried. “I could never hate you.  You saved me from a life of solitude and darkness.  You brought color back into my life.  And all at once… 

You were the one I was waiting for,” she finished. “I love you.”  

“I love you. My baby momma.”  

Belle spent the day of the execution in the nursery with Nat, Wanda, MJ and Hope, planning out the room. Mrs. Lewis was taking notes with Belle’s new assistant, Ava.  “I think we need to put the cribs here,” Belle pointed, “and the changing table and dresser here.  I would like to have twin rocking chairs because I know Steve will want to be in here with me when he can.”  

“Of course, Mrs. Rogers,” Ava said as she consulted measurements with Mrs. Lewis.  

“Oh Ava, before I forget, we have a dinner with the alumni association on Friday and I will need to attend with Steve. Bucky and Clint will also be attended but Clint is bringing Laura, so I need you to attend with Bucky.”  

“S-sure,” Ava stuttered, a flash of pink on her cheeks as she looked down at her tablet.  Belle noticed the flush but did not give it any attention but filing it for future use.  

“We need to make sure you have a formal dress, Ava.  So, we have a fitting at Vera Wang tomorrow.” She looked over the girl.  She was a strawberry blonde with green eyes. Petite but curvy. “Red, I think,” she said.  

“Oh, Mrs. Rogers…” 

“Nope, its Belle.”  She turned to Mrs. Lewis.  “Please make sure that Marco and Marie know it’s for three ladies.  Laura will be joining us unless of course Nat and Wanda are joining us as well.”  

“We can make an afternoon of it,” Nat said, understanding what she was trying to do with Ava and Bucky.  

“Perfect.” Belle clapped with glee until a look of shock crossed her face.  Her hand flew to her belly.  

“Belle?” Wanda looked at her.  Her eyes flashed red for a moment.  “Nat, we need Steve.”  Nat picked up her phone and called while the rest of the women crowded her. “Ok, let’s give her a moment alone,” Wanda said with a smile.  Steve and Bucky came running in.  

“Sweet pea?  What’s wrong?”  

Wanda approached Ava.  “Bucky, can you take Ava outside please?”  Bucky flushed slightly at the young woman and offered his arm.  He looked back at his best friends as they waited for the room to clear.  

“Baby, what’s wrong?” Steve looked at his wife.  

“Nothing,” she smiled.  She took his hand and placed it on the side of her belly.  

“Love, what…” 

“Just a second.”  They waited and then Steve’s eyes widen as Belle felt a kick to her side. He looked down at her belly and then back to her eyes.  “I think your son is saying hello.”  

“Oh…” he kneeled before his wife.  “Hello son.  Hey princess.  I’m your dad.”  A tear formed in his eye.  “I love you and your momma so much little ones.”  He stayed there a while, caressing her belly and talking to his children.  They were interrupted when Bucky walked in.  

“I’m sorry to interrupt but it’s done.” He looked down.  

Steve stood up and held Belle from behind, his hands on her belly.  “Did she say anything?” 

“Only professing her love for you and then Hail HYDRA.”  

Steve nodded. “Ok, well that’s that.  Come love, you should rest.”  

“Ok.”  No emotion crossed Belle’s face.  “Oh Bucky, since you will be attending the gala with us, I’ve asked Ava to be your escort for the evening.”  She watched as Bucky’s ears turned red as he patted the back of his head.  

“Oh, yes, well, ok, if you want, I guess I’m ok with that…” he stammered.  

Belle giggled.  Steve looked at her curiously before leading her to their room.  He laid her down on her sided and then climbed behind her, holding her to his chest.  “What do you know, sweet pea?” 

“I know that Bucky and Ava are crushing on each other,” she smirked.  “And I know that I love you.”  

“I love you more my queen.” He kissed her head and smiled.  “What about Clint?” 

“He’s bringing Laura.” She looked back at Steve, who had a shocked face.  “I think seeing what we went through, he didn’t want to be away from the love of his life anymore.  I know they divorced because he was an Avenger and thought he was protecting her.  I’m just glad he figured out that he couldn’t live without her.”  

“My little matchmaker,” Steve chuckled. “You need to rest love.”  

“I’m trying; I’m just so tense.  Carrying your children is tough.”  

“Hmm, well maybe something to help you with that.” Steve got a wicked look on his face as he reaches under her sundress and pulled her panties down.  He stroked between her folds. “Already so wet, love,” he whispered in her ear, pressing kisses to her neck.  

“Stevie,” she moaned.  He was aware of how sensitive she was so he went gentle and slow. He sank a finger into her and arched her back, her belly sticking out more. 

“Easy baby,” Steve held her close, letting her feel how turned on he was. He grasped her chin with his free hand to kiss her softly as he added another finger. She moaned into his lips.  

“Stevie, I need more.”  

Steve smiled as he eased her onto her back.  He snaked down as pushed her knees up. He kissed between her thighs and gently licked her folds.  She jolted up and Steve chuckled. “Feel good baby?” 

“Amore please,” she pleaded. Steve went in, tasting, sucking, drawing out unnatural noises from his wife.  Being pregnant made every touch be like a lightning through her. He could feel her starting to reach her peak.  

“Cum for me, my queen. Let me taste you.” With a silent scream, her body spasmed, making her see stars.  Steve coaxed her down before rolling her to her side again and he removed his jeans and boxers.  He got behind her again and lifted a leg, hooking it around his hip, opening her to him from behind.  Steve carefully slid into her heat.  She moaned loudly as Steve peppered her neck and cheek with kisses.  “You feel amazing as ever love.”  

“Stevie,” she cried quietly. He was gentle, not wanting to hurt or disturb his children.  

“You are a goddess, my love.  So warm and tight. Carrying my children.  You are even more beautiful now than before,” he whispered as he thrusted softly into her. She keened at the praise, placing her hands over his on her hips. She began to tighten again. “That’s my good girl, let go.” He wrapped his arms around her as she came again and he rutted two more times before spilling into her.  He could feel her body relax and she fell asleep with him still inside her.  He didn’t dare move, knowing sleep was hard to find for her now. But he was ok, in his happy place, inside his wife, holding his unborn children.  

See... I can end a chapter on a nice note...

NEXT

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[smolderingflame]

New Fic Alert (One-shot)! Love And Heels (Steve/Bucky) Captain America/MCU by SmolderingFlame

Love And Heels by SmolderingFlame for @april2007

Rating: Explicit

Archive Warning: No Warnings Apply

Category: M/M

Fandoms: Captain America/MCU

Completed Fic

Relationship: Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers

Characters: James Barnes, Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanov, Tony Stark, Sam Wilson, Clint Barton, Sharon Carter, Brock Rumlow, Loki, Thor, Alexander Piece, Jack Rollins, mentioned John Walker

Summary: Miss Infinity is one of the biggest drag pageants in the country, attracting talented performers from all around. Two of those competitors are Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers, rivals who have a messy past and will do anything they can to win. But things quickly get messy when feelings start to get in the way.

Tags: AU, Modern Setting, Drag Queens, Crossdressing, Feminization, Enemies to Lovers, Crack, Total Crack, Crack treated seriously, Fluff, Sassy Bucky Barnes, Sassy Steve Rogers, Romantic Comedy, Everything is beautiful and nothing hurts, Competition, Pageants, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Slutty Bucky Barnes, Sugar Baby Bucky Barnes, Seamstress Steve Rogers, Artists, Steve Rogers big dick and big tits, Top Steve Rogers, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Bitchy Bucky Barnes, Strong sexual content