#steve rogers enemies to lovers au
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the send-off | s.r ; 4
summary |Â Being his best friend and assistant, Howard Stark asked you to be the first one to be tested on his time machine project. After some unexpected errors, you ended up stuck in the modern times of the 21st century. Where you meet the man you thought died years ago: Steve Rogers.
pairing/s |Â steve rogers x reader, avengers x reader
word count |Â 5k+
genres |Â angst, fluff, crack, time travel au, unrequited love au
warnings | mention of blood, idiotsâŚ
note |Â after months, here's a new update! finally found the inspiration to write again :)) I apologize for the long delay. anyway, let me know your thoughts on this one. enjoy reading!
series masterlist
 âUgh⌠What to do? What to do?â you hummed.
Itâs been days since your arrival in this era. And so far, everything is fine. Confusing but fine. You were still having nightmares that always woke you up. But you didnât bother to tell anyone about it. Itâs probably a normal reaction.
Since the superheroes in the compound have alternative schedules for their missions, you found yourself rubbing shoulders with whoever Avenger is in the compound. Itâs obvious that they donât want you to feel excluded and made it clear that they donât mind you asking questions if you find something puzzling.Â
You usually bond with the youngest one, Peter Parker, who is always around since he is, based on what he said, âa friendly neighborhood superheroâ. It means that he doesnât go out of the country, like Natasha or Steve, or even this state for a mission since he still has classes to attend and he explains that his aunt wonât let him go anywhere far and dangerous. Understandable, you thought. The kid is only sixteen. But for now, Peter is staying back with his aunt in their apartment while the others are on their missions. He has a schedule for staying between the compound and his auntâs place.Â
Clint is with his family, who you heard lived in this secret farmhouse. Tony is probably home too. You donât really know. You kind of feel that he avoids being alone with you. Wanda is resting in her room. You donât want to disturb her as you saw her coming home earlier, looking really exhausted.Â
When he can, Steve also kept you company. Of course, you enjoyed talking to him about his life after the whole defrosting thing. But sometimes, you felt like a disturbance or a burden in his free time. You thought, maybe he just wants to rest. Perhaps he just feels bad for you. So, you try to not stay around him all the time if heâs home.
So, you really have nothing to do. You have books but you donât feel like reading now. You have this novel that you liked so much, you just finished it today. The compound also has this large, flat television but you donât feel like watching anything either. Itâs not like youâre not used to being alone. Youâre always alone before! But at least you have a job to take up all your time. With all this free time, you cannot help but miss doing something in the laboratory. Computing numbers or testing prototypes with Howard. You wondered if your best friend ever finished that flying car he kept on re-working. You figured, maybe not. You see that people in this modern time still use four-wheeled cars.
âOh, hey, Doctor Y/N.â
Sometime in the afternoon, Bruce Banner went out to the kitchen to get himself something to drink. That is where he sees you, looking all bored and spacing out. You forced a smile at him and greeted him back,
âHello, Doctor Banner.â
âBruce. You can call me Bruce.â he smiled as he opened a can of rootbeer.
âThen, you can call me just by my name too,â you replied, tapping on the hardbound book you had with you. You tried not to be obvious as you examined his look. With his eyeglasses and white coat, you know heâs been working in his laboratory.Â
After taking a sip from his drink, he spoke, âWhat are you up to in here, Y/N?â
Hearing that question, you instantly sighed heavily, making your shoulder slump, âNothing really. Iâve been watching the paint dry, Bruce.â
Thankfully, the scientist caught on to your use of words. He chuckled before asking you, âDo you want to go to the lab?â
You swore you jumped from where you were sitting when Bruce said that. He took it as a yes and you two walked together back to his laboratory. Instantly, you were in awe of the place. There are screens and machinery everywhere. You donât understand how these new gadgets work but you cannot wait to hear about them. This is like something you dreamed of.
âHere.â
Bruce handed you a white lab coat and you immediately grabbed it, wearing it excitedly. Damn, you missed wearing it. You stood next to him in front of his messy desk, which is pretty normal. Notes were everywhere. Even pens and crumpled papers. Youâre starting to miss your own messy work table.
âOh, Iâm sorry about that,â Bruce spoke, referencing his desk.
You smiled, âItâs fine. It means youâre really working hard for something.â
Slipping your hands into the coatâs pockets, you wander around the spacious lab. You try to stop yourself from touching anything, fearing that you might mess something up. So like a little kid, your eyes just show your enthusiasm as you watch some type of liquid flow into a transparent tube.
âWhat are you working on?â you asked, turning your head to Bruce.
âSomething that can help the world, hopefully.â he chuckled. He walked next to you, âItâs a serum that may help cancer patients.â
âThatâs nice,â you whispered, eyes still distracted.
âYeah. But itâs still an experiment. This is the first time Iâm working on something like this again after I tried to recreate the super soldier serum.â
Your eyebrows raised as you looked at him, âYou tried to recreate that serum?!â
Steve did not tell you about that. No one told you that someone in the compound tried to recreate it. You always wondered what Dr. Ernskine did to that serum since it seems very impossible to reproduce. But now that youâre in this modern era, people have more resources and findings. Maybe Bruce succeed.
Bruce stared back at you with a small smile, âItâs what brought me here, Y/N.â
âCap. You okay?âÂ
Tony asked as soon as he made sure the auto-pilot was set on the plane. Instead of answering, Steve grunts while pressing a hand on the right side of his stomach. Blood was gushing out from the stab wound he got from this mission. Bucky, on the other hand, also earned bruises on his face and small cuts on his arm. The two admittedly underestimated this mission. They didnât expect that a hundred members will show up in this cult-like mob they raided. Thankfully, Tony was able to answer an emergency call.
âThose guys really got you cornered. Whoever stabbed you would probably brag about the fact he got to stab Captain America. Too bad he died.â Tony quipped, trying to lighten the mood. He signaled to Bucky to pass him a bandage.
Steve listened with exhaustion running in his veins. He breathed out as he closed his eyes, leaning his head on the surface behind him.
âYou know, you got to be more careful nowâŚâ Tony suddenly spoke, sounding a bit serious. Steve opened his eyes and look at his friend who was focused on cleaning his wound. It took minutes of silenceâ since Tony made sure that his wound wonât get infectedâ before he continued, âYou have a girlfriend waiting at home.â
âSheâs not my girlfriend, Tony,â Steve replied sternly.
His best friend still managed to chuckle at that. Steve groaned when Tony slightly applied pressure to his wound. Not that Steve doesnât like the idea of you as his romantic partner, he just doesnât want to tolerate this kind of teasing from his friends. They might get used to it and make you uncomfortable whenever youâre with him.
Tony rolled his eyes, âOkay, whatever. But my point is you are Y/Nâs closest friend in the compound right now and I donât think she will like seeing you come back like this. I mean, you already died before and Dad told me a lot of things that happened.â
Steve tilted his head quizzically. He looked at Bucky who shared the same expression on his face.
âWhatââ
âThere.â Tony got up as if he didnât just say something. He pointed at Bucky. âAnd you too, buddy. Bring more backup next time. Something worse could have happened. Youâre lucky Iâm just another country away for a presentation.â
He walked back to his seat as the pilot, ignoring the confusion and curiosity from the two a-decade-old super soldiers.
âThat was your last memory?â
Bruce sat in front of you, typing on his laptop as you nodded an answer. A couple of hours after inviting you, you two ended up just chatting in his laboratory. Bruce told you about the time he recreated the supersoldier serum. You learned his history and how he joined this league of superhumans. He was open to sharing his struggle in accepting his power and learning to control himself from being Bruce and the Hulk.
After that, he ended up giving you a tour of his laboratory. You would share how a gadget you had before evolved into what he has now in these modern times. Your curiosity about these said gadgets made his offer to teach you whenever he can and you happily agreed. Although youâre still unsure if youâre staying here for the rest of your life, you think that it will be good to adapt in the meantime.
âThe time machineâŚâ your voice trailed off as you brought up the topic. âHow did you and Tony make it?â
Youâve been wanting to ask someone about their version of a time machine here. But since Howardâs son was a bit distant, you get to talk about it with Bruce now.
Bruce shakes his head, âIt was unsuccessful.â
âIt brought me here.â you countered, pursing your lips.
The air around you two was suddenly all serious and Bruce feels it. You were just wondering how they built their time machine. How did they make it work? It was seemingly more successful than Howardâs. Was it because of the current and upgraded technologies? Did they use different formulas than Howard? Did they make their own original version that was way different than what you and your best friend worked on in the past?
Â
Bruce looked at you for seconds like he was contemplating if he should tell you. Then, he exhaled, removing his glasses.
âTony brought the blueprint and basically the whole plan for it months ago. He said he found it when he was digging up in his dadâs office in their old house.â
âWait.â your eyebrows scrunched together as you paused. You take your time processing his answer. You made sure you understood it by saying, âSo⌠it was originally Howardâs⌠The blueprint for it?â
He nods, âYes, Tony found it along with other plans his dad never worked on. We just used other materials than the outdated ones...â
You didnât really listen to the rest of his words when you heard the first sentence. Your eyes stared at some space. Never worked on? He means, Howard made this plan and never worked on it? Does it mean that if your best friend just worked it, you could have been back earlier than this era? Your hand slowly pressed a hand on your chest and you felt your heartbeat getting quicker Bruce quickly noticed it and you looked up at him with your eyes screaming in confusion and surprise, hurt.
âWhen did Howard plan it?â you asked. Your voice was weak and you almost said it in a whisper.
Although confused, Bruce replied, â1977. It was written on the bottom of the blueprint.â
Your brain was quick in computing it. It was thirty years after your disappearance. You feel like shaking as you blinked away the tears that were blurring your sight.
âW-Where can I find this blueprint? I want to see it.â
The change in your tone and expression made Bruce ask, âY/N, are you okayââ
âWhere?â you asked again instead of answering.
âUh, Tony has it.â
You ran your palms all over your face, calming yourself down. You breathe out. You knew you had to stop yourself from crying as you cannot stand doing it again. Itâs pointless. Youâve been tearing up ever since you came here and you have never been this vulnerable. You donât like it. Before Bruce can repeat a word, you sighed heavily.
âIâm sorry,â you said, shaking your head. âI⌠I was just surprised Howard planned on building another time machine and never made a move on it.â
Bruce hummed quietly and replied, âItâs fine⌠Everything must have been a lot to you.â
You chuckled, trying to lighten up the atmosphere, âYeah, itâs a real bummer and I think it makes me blow a fuse really easily. I swear I was never this emotional.â
If he did it, would I have come back earlier?
The question floats in your head as you set your eyes on the quiet lake just outside the compound. You pulled your knees closer to your chest and rested your chin on your knees. The sky was already dimming down as the sun already set. Nature was quiet and the only loud thing was your brain with all these questions you were asking yourself.
There was a part of you who wished you shouldnât have just asked Bruce. Maybe you wouldnât feel this way. But you were always curious about things, so you asked. And here you are, having this moment. As if knowing about Howardâs plans is not enough, you still had thoughts if you can ask Tony about it. You let out an exasperated, hopeless exhale. Maybe not.
âDr. Y/N!â
You snapped out of your deep thoughts when you heard your name. Turning your head to your side, you spotted Peter approaching with a smile on his face. He waved his hand, and your lips form a small smile.
âHey⌠I thought you were staying with your aunt tonight?â
He sat beside you on the green grass, âIâm just staying here until nine. Then, Iâll go back home. I dropped by to see if youâre baking tonight.â
You giggled, âWell, todayâs not your lucky day, kid. But I think we still have a few brownies in the jar from the other day.â
âI checked. Itâs already empty.â he feigned disappointment, holding his chest, and you two chuckled. âHow was your day here, doc?â
âBoring. I havenât really done much. Bruce saw me in the kitchen earlier and invited me to his lab. I just miss doing something again.â you confessed with a hint of frustration in your tone. âHow about you, kid?â
He shrugged his shoulders, âEh, just school. I and my friend Ned ended up in detention because he cannot stop talking about this new movie during chemistry class. Then, our other friend, MJ joined us since she said she enjoys going to detention. We planned to eat something after but MJ has a part-time job to go to.â Peter shared and you feel that he was pretty satisfied with how his day went.
âWell, at least one of us got to bond with their friends,â you scoffed. âI have to get used to my friends being superheroes.â
âThey are usually busy, arenât they?â
You nod, âYeah. It actually made me feel jobless.â
You two laughed at that. You resumed, âI canât believe I finished two books in a short periodâ Speaking of books, I was wondering if you could lend me a hand.â
âFor what?â
âOh, you know that novel Iâve been reading these past few days?â
âAh, the one with the whole time machine plot too?â
âYes. I⌠I really loved the book. Is there any way I can reach out to the author? Maybe write them a letter? I just really want to let them know that itâs a good story.â
Maybe itâs because of a lot of free time on your hand. But you just really adored the plot and the novel itself. You found it in the new releases section of the bookstore you went to days ago. But the story was set around your time, in the 40s, and mainly revolved around time traveling, which initially pulled you into buying it. It was accurate by the era it was in, and it made you feel closer to where you came from. Now, you just finished it and it was beautiful even though it was left on a cliffhanger. It causes you something to look forward to. Â
âWe can try to reach out. Maybe they have e-mail. Itâs faster than sending them written letters.â Peter suggests.
You cocked an eyebrow, âWhatâs an email?â
âOh, itâs electronic mail. Itâs like the modern type of exchanging letters with other people. Instead of asking for the personâs home address, they can just give you their email address. Then, you can send them a message with the computer or cellphone.â he explains and you nod.
âHow about your laptop?â
He nods, âYeah, we can also use that.â
You two ended up walking back to the compound. Peter helped you with creating your own e-mail address and typing your message to the author. You wanted to learn and get used to with using this gadget so you offered to type yourself. He was patient enough to teach you with the keys on the keyboard as you type.Â
âSo, it automatically saves itself as a draft?â
You moved the cursor on the screen as you glided your index finger on the touchpad of his laptop. It wasnât a long message but it was genuine. You re-read the whole thing again before passing the laptop to Peter.
âYeah, whatâs the name of the author again?â the boy asked before opening a new tab in the browser.
âOh, waitâŚâ you reached for the book and read the huge, bold name written on the front cover. âItâs⌠Donald S. Burton.â
âOkay, we can look for his website. Maybe he has his contacts there.â
His voice trailed off when he began typing on the search bar. It never fails to amaze you how fast this thing can give you answers. Itâs like all of the books in the library were compiled into this gadget. Peter input the name and a list of information about Donald S. Burton showed up. There were even images of the man. You cannot help but smile when the old guy reminds you of someone familiar.
âHere is his email!â
âI like these. What are these again?âÂ
Steve smiled at your curiosity, âChicken nuggets.â
âOkay. Chicken nuggets,â you repeated. âI wished we had these in our time. I love these and these sauces. And of course, this sundae!â you exclaimed before taking a scoop with the tiny spoon.
Just a couple of days after you talked with Bruce in the lab and sent an e-mail with Peterâs help, you found yourself having a picnic with Steve just around the city. It was a quiet park in the busy city. It was a Tuesday so there were fewer people in the place. He invited you with it after he got home from his mission.
âShould I bake or make something?â you asked him.
âYou donât have to if you donât want to. Weâll be ordering food on the way to the park,â he replied.
âAre the others coming too?â you asked again.
He shook his head, âI⌠didnât ask them.â
âWhy didnât you ask them?â you raised an eyebrow.Â
Steve seemed to be caught off guard. Bucky, Sam, Natasha, and Peter, who were also in the living room when you asked, smirked and looked at each other knowingly when they saw their leaderâs frozen reaction. He stood there awkwardly with his hands on his hips. Natasha was the first to break the silence.
âIâll be training,â she said.
The others caught on to it and spew their reasons too. Peter chimed in, âI have a ton of homework to do, Doc.â
âIâm visiting my sister in Louisiana,â Sam explained with a scoff. That made you squint your eyes at him. Then you looked at Bucky, waiting for his reason. He seemed frozen like the gears in his head is turning.
âI⌠uhm⌠IâmâŚâ
âHeâll help me with training.â Nat saved him. âWeâll do some planning with the next mission.â
So thatâs how you and Steve ended up alone on this picnic, which you donât mind. You had a fun ride going here. He lets you play songs by connecting your rarely-used phone to the carâs stereo.
âHow did you learn about that song?â he asked when American Pie played.
You smiled, âNatasha. I heard it from her.â
You ordered food from a fast food chain through a drive-thru. It was exciting as Steve ordered meals you didnât try before. When you arrived at the peaceful park, you insist on helping him with bringing stuff. He just made you bring the blanket while he carries all the other things. When you found a perfect spot, you laid the gingham blanket on the green grass. You sat comfortably in your casual floral dress before you two began eating.
âThank you for this, Steve.â you smiled.
âYouâre welcome. Thank you for coming with me. I havenât been on a picnic with someone for a while.â he said.
âYou know, before I got in the time machine, I went picnic with my neighbors.â you shared, remembering that day with the Smiths.
âMr. and Mrs. Jones?!â he asked with surprise.
Your ears perked when you heard that. The Jones were your neighbors before the Smiths. They are the last ones Steve knew since he and Bucky would sometimes fetch you if you were hanging out somewhere. The said couple was a bit grumpy, to be honest. They can hear even the smallest noise you would make in your apartment and would always let you know they donât like it.Â
âOh, no. They moved out months after you disappeared. Another family occupied their space. Susan and Robert Smith. They have this little kid named Donny. They are much nicer.â you joked.
âWell, thatâs nice. I missed a lot of things while on ice.âÂ
âIt was only two years, Steve. Nothing much happened.â you snorted, finishing your sundae.
âA lot of things can happen. I know Howard found the Tesseract while searching for me on the ice⌠Share some things that happened in those two years.âÂ
âOkayâŚâ you exhaled. âI bet you already know that they tried making a series after Captain America vanished. You became an icon. Have you seen it?â
You laughed when you saw Steve hissed, âI didnât like it.â
âYeah, it was bad.â you cracked up. You only watched that once. You donât like how they painted Peggy into a character named Betty who was always a damsel in distress. Peggy had complained about it too.
âAnyway, weâ Howard and Iâ tried for like a year to search for you. But he would usually be the one to go on sites and I would always try to come with him. He needs more convincing but it always works.â
Howard often says that going in the field can be dangerous and you would fight back over and over again. You were glad you did because you were with them when they found the Tesseract.
âWhat convincing did you do?â
âWell, I would say that Iâm his assistant. My job is technically following him around. Then when he says no, Iâll say that I am his best friend. I still do have my last reason if he denies me of coming with him.â you said.
âAnd what is it?â
You paused and just stared at him. Chewing on your bottom lip, you hmmed. It was like you were thinking if you should tell him the last reason for Howard to let you go with him. Steve waits. He tried to be comfortable as he leaned back with his arms resting behind him. He hoped he doesnât look much curious or nosy. After what felt like an eternity, you spoke.
âItâs⌠Itâs that I am the last one you spoke to while you were on that plane.âÂ
You looked away from him, avoiding his gaze. You tried to just look at the trees and people from the distance than just look at Steve. Your chest felt heavier when you remembered that time Steve fought that skull and had control of that plane. Steve didnât say a word so you continued to explain more, just to get it off your chest.
âIt would always work since he fully knows that I have guilt living in my system after the country lost you.â you chuckled bitterly. âI felt awfully bad that I cannot do anything to help you during that situation.â
When your voice shook uncontrollably in the last words of your sentence, Steve sat back up and you can see the sympathy in his blue eyes. He reached out for your resting hand, instantly caging it in his warm hands.
âY/N⌠none of it was your fault. It was already a dead-end situation. I was the one who chose to crash it.â he tried to reassure you.
âI know, I know,â you mumbled, tears slipping from your eyes. âBut I cannot stand losing another person in my life that time, Steve.â
Your tearful eyes met his concerned ones. âWe just lost Barnes earlier that year. And I really just canât lose you⌠I tried to think of something. Howard was in the same room while I was talking to you on the phone. We tried to make a plan but we donât have any idea where the hell the plane was and it was moving really fast. It was really bad. I felt helpless. I thought I might have been able to do something to help you but we have no time. I hate that all I can do is talk to you on the phone, hoping that you wonât feel alone, while I prayed silently for some miracle to happen. And it was crazy because I donât even remember the last time I prayed before that moment.â
By the time you finished talking, you were full-on sobbing. Your chest heaved and your cheeks were damp from your salty tears. Steve held your hand. His thumb drew circles on it as he lets you cry for more. And when he felt you calming down, he uttered:
âStaying in that call with me until the end was enough for me. I appreciate you for handling yourself very well and being calm with me that time. You are amazing. And you donât know how relieved I am when I knew you were the one who answered the call. Thank you.â Steve said softly, offering a small smile as he looked directly into your eyes. âYou already did much more you know for me that time.â
2/19/1945
Y/N arrived with puffy eyes today. I knew it before she even removed the black sunglasses she had on. I already told her the day before that she have the choice of not going to the laboratory today. But she still did. It was quiet the whole day in the lab. We both tried to act busy like nothing much happened. Due to the events of these past two weeks, Iâve been getting telephone calls from a lot of people. I chose to ignore them because I know it has something to do with Rogersâ disappearance and Iâd been hearing they want to make the serum like Ernskineâs. I honestly think that it would be hard to âremakeâ Captain America ever again. She didnât eat anything for the whole day even a cup of coffee. I insisted on walking her home, saying I have to borrow her old research about the future of computers. She said sheâll just bring it tomorrow but I said I need it urgently even though I really donât. In fact, I have nothing to do with her research. I just had to make sure sheâll get home safe. I thought it was a good idea to just walk with her instead of asking Jarvis to drive us. But boy, I was wrong. The loss of the nationâs superhero is plastered all over the place. I tried distracting Y/N by telling her about the funny encounter I had with a girl months ago. I never told her about it before because I know she doesnât like that I cannot commit to a single girl. But I have no more story to tell at the moment. It was a relief that she let out small laughs and smile at it. Although the smiles didnât reach her eyes, I hope she felt better for a bit. She was about to say some advice or something when she suddenly froze. Her lips formed into a frown and I see tears forming in her eyes. I follow where her eyes lay and it was the newspapers. WE NEED A NEW CAPTAIN. The headline was printed in big, bold letters. Eye-catching. âThey cannot just replace Steve like that.â It was a whisper from her. I hate that all I can do is sigh. Two minutes later, we reached her apartment. She handed me her research and thanked me. She smiled. But it was forced, I know.
As I am writing this letter, I am thinking of leaving this city with Y/N for a vacation somewhere away from here. I donât know if she will like that. Maybe she wonât. Maybe Iâll just settle on walking her home with another made-up reason from the back of my head. I donât know. I just feel helpless seeing her like this again after Barnesâ and now, Rogersâ death. Even so, Iâll always make sure that she will be alright.
H.S.Â
Tony removed his eyeglasses as he finished reading. His index finger traces the handwritten words by his father, sighing in the process. He can hear his fatherâs voice with each word in it.Â
âTony, we need to go. We should fly at six!â Pepperâs voice cuts off his thoughts.
He stretched his limbs before replying, âOkay, honey. Just getting my glasses.âÂ
Tony stared at the page again for a second before closing his fatherâs journal. He slid it onto one of the drawers on his nightstand and left.
THE SEND-OFF TAGLIST
@supraveng @sunflower-golden-vol6 @curi0usc4t @caitlyn-who @bitchy-bi-trash @stilltoomuchafangirl @matisse556 @ladybug05 @sunwoahkim @meanttobea @j69confessional2 @thenyxsky @swthxrry @justab-eautifulmess @7minutes-tomidnight @curlycarley @thefalconandthewinterwidowshield @wisepenguin @shatfairy @coffeeshub @stillthatbetch @cosmicgirls-things @mediocre-m @learning-howto-be-myselfx3 @mrsjaderogers @themerc-with-a-mouth @slutdreams @royalwritersoftheuniverses @yunloyal @avengersinitiative2012 @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @madnessinwrighting @lilizia @saintmagx @saranghaey @elmphoenix17 @animegirlgeeky @t-stark35 @ameliabs-world @seijaelee @sully-stick-together @capswife @katdahlali @avengersgirllorianna
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#steve rogers#steve rogers fic#steve rogers angst#steve rogers fluff#steve rogers au#steve rogers series#steve rogers enemies to lovers au#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers fanfic#steve rogers fanfiction#steve rogers time travel au#avengers x reader#avengers fanfiction#chris evans#chris evans x reader#chris evans fic#chris evans angst#chris evans fluff#the send off steve rogers
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The Imperfect Couple - 3
Character: politician!Bucky x ex-wife!reader
Summary: A separated couple must pretend to be happily married while the husband runs for Vice President, dealing with old issues and political pressures during his election campaign.
Warning: The couple's arguments could be triggering.
A/N: Steve Rogers is older than Bucky here.
Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 4 , Chapter 5 , Chapter 6 , Chapter 7 , Chapter 8 , Chapter 9 , Chapter 10 , Chapter 11 , Chapter 12 , Series Masterlist
Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi đđť
Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. â¤ď¸
You arrived at the new apartment, feeling a small sense of relief for finally being under a different roof than Carolineâs. The thought of enduring the same torture as before made your skin crawl.
As you settled in, you broke the silence. âYour mom offered the attorney to us.â You remembered how you had insisted the divorce attorney make it as quick and painless as possible. âWhy didnât you finalize it?â
Buckyâs gaze remained steady. âNot once did I think you were actually going to leave me.â
âThereâs no marriage between us,â you shot back, your voice sharp. âIf youâd finalized it, you couldâve easily married a woman your mother approved of.â
Flashback Start
You recalled every time Caroline mentioned another womanâs name as if they were more suited for Bucky. âYou know, Rachel just graduated summa cum laude from Harvard in social politics,â she had said at the rehearsal dinner.
Then, on your wedding day, as you and Bucky sat together, trying to enjoy the celebration, Caroline approached, holding hands with a stunning woman. âBucky, look whoâs here? Katherine just arrived from London.â
Carolineâs voice dripped with approval. âBoth of them went to the same law school.â
You clenched the fork in your hand so hard you thought it might snap.
Why the hell was she introducing another woman to you on your wedding night?
Did she expect you and Bucky to have a threesome with Katherine?
From that moment, you knew your placeâan outsider who didnât come from the pedigree Caroline so desperately wanted for her son.
When you finally left the house, you remembered her raising her champagne glass with a smirk. âI always knew you werenât the one.â
Flashback End
âThey need someone with a spotless record,â Bucky said, breaking you from your thoughts.
You stood there, your emotions a mix of anger and disbelief.
âIâm not making excuses for you. I know the old me wasnât good enough, that I couldnât be the man you could rely on,â he admitted, his voice thick with regret.
He looked at you with a desperation that caught you off guard. âYou could poison my drink, stab me in my sleep. I wouldnât fight it. Iâd let you.â
His eyes, usually so confident and composed, were now filled with a deep, pained sincerity. The weight of his guilt seemed to crush him, and the shadows of remorse darkened his features. His hands trembled slightly, betraying the calm facade he tried to maintain.
Your breath hitched, your heart pounding in your chest. How could he say that so casually? What kind of twisted love was this?
âThatâs how much I need you,â he confessed, his eyes never leaving yours.
âYouâre using me,â you accused, your voice shaking with a mix of fury and sadness.
Bucky didnât deny it. âLike I said, itâs a business relationship. But Iâve trusted you from the beginning. Put my faith in you.â
He reached out, taking your hands in his, holding them together like a prayer. âAnd I hope we can work together. Itâs a once-in-a-lifetime chance to work in the White House.ââ
đ¸đ¸đ¸đ¸
The following day, you met Steve, the future Presidential candidate. He greeted you warmly, his genuine smile easing some of the tension you felt. Youâd met Steve and his wife, Peggy, a few times beforeâhonest people who never treated you like you didnât belong. Steve had even defended you whenever Caroline or others looked down on you for not being in the same league as them.
"Iâm so glad youâre here," Steve said, clasping your hand. "When did you arrive?"
You chuckled softly. "Well, when three Secret Service agents showed up at my door, who was I to say no?"
Steve chuckled too, though there was a hint of awkwardness in his eyes. He tilted his head slightly. "Letâs talk."
You walked together, the air thick with unspoken words. "I know itâs difficult for you to be here. I owe you big time," Steve began sincerely. He had witnessed your marriage crumble, and despite his and Peggyâs best efforts to support you and Bucky, things had fallen apart.
You sighed. "What confuses me is, why me? He couldâve chosen another woman, someone way more qualified."
Steve leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a whisper. "To be honest, I think youâre the best option. He probably wonât show it, but Bucky was happy when he heard you were coming."
You scoffed, glancing over at Bucky, who was watching the two of you from a distance. "Impossible."
As you scanned the room, you spotted someone familiarâyour brother, Tim. Excusing yourself from Steve, you made your way over to him.
"Iâm glad youâre here," Tim said, his voice filled with warmth, though his eyes carried a weight of their own.
You narrowed your eyes at him. "I canât believe you. You knew what I went through, and yet youâre working with him? You sucked up to him."
"Look at me," Tim said firmly.
You glanced down at him, seeing the determination in his gaze.
"Whoâs going to hire a disabled person like me?" Tim who seated on his wheelchair, his voice wavered slightly as he spoke. He had been born with both legs, but when bone cancer struck his left leg, the doctors recommended amputation to stop it from spreading. That surgery had shattered his dreams of becoming a professional tennis player.
"It was James who offered me a job," he emphasized, "with a high salary."
Tim continued, "You can keep your anger, but face it, Y/Nâthey wonât pay the bills. For people like me, I need more money to survive in this world."
You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, Bucky appeared beside you.
"Hi, Tim."
"Hey," Tim replied.
"I'm going to steal your sister for a bit." Bucky turned to you. "Our next schedule is coupleâs therapy," he said, his voice calm but authoritative, cutting the conversation short.
You hated this part. The thought of attending therapy with Bucky made your stomach twist with unease. You shot Tim one last look, a mixture of concern and frustration in your eyes, before following Bucky out of the room.
đ¸đ¸đ¸đ¸đ¸
As you and Bucky sat across from Aiden, the therapist, the atmosphere was thick with unresolved tension. The room was simple yet comfortable, with soft, neutral tones that were supposed to be calming but did little to ease the storm of emotions swirling within you. You could feel the weight of Bucky's presence beside you, a familiar heaviness that both comforted and suffocated you.
Aiden leaned forward, his expression neutral but attentive. "So, what are you feeling right now?"
You hesitated for a moment before speaking, your voice laced with frustration and exhaustion. "I donât think I have the courage to live another day in his family. His mother is the devil spawn. Even seeing her shadow triggers me." The words spilled out of you, raw and unfiltered, a reflection of the years of pain and resentment you'd kept bottled up.
Aiden nodded, his gaze shifting to Bucky. "And what about you, Mr. Barnes?"
Bucky's eyes remained fixed on a spot on the floor, his voice steady but lacking its usual conviction. "I didnât think that way. As long as we stick together, we can get through everything." There was a hint of desperation in his tone, as if he was trying to convince himself as much as you.
You turned to look at him, disbelief and anger simmering beneath your calm facade. "From the beginning, we shouldâve never gotten married. You only focus on yourself, never bothering to look behind you. Me, trying my best to fit into your circles."
Your voice wavered, the painful truth of your words cutting through the silence like a knife. You had always known you were out of his leagueâyoung and innocent, believing that love could conquer all.
But you had been wrong, and the reality of that mistake was too much to bear.
His motherâs voice echoed in your mind, the countless times sheâd told you that you werenât good enough, that you didnât deserve him.
"Your mother was right. I donât deserve you," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.
Buckyâs expression tightened, his guilt etched into every line of his face. "Iâm sorry. I really am sorry." His voice cracked, the weight of his regret finally breaking through.
He had never wanted thisâto see you hurt, to see you broken because of him and his family. But the damage was done, and the guilt gnawed at him, relentless and unforgiving.
Aiden observed the exchange, his eyes narrowing slightly as he spoke. "I see that youâre the victim here, maâam. And your former mother-in-law is the main reason why." He glanced at Bucky, his voice firm. "Mr. Barnes, your mother hurt her deeply, and now you must do everything in your power to make amends."
Bucky nodded, his voice thick with emotion. "I will. I'll do anything to erase the hurt youâve received from her." The sincerity in his voice was palpable, but it was clear that the guilt weighed heavily on him. He had failed to protect you, to shield you from his motherâs venom, and that failure haunted him.
Aidenâs voice softened, but there was a steely resolve in his words. "Use this pain, both of you. Let it fuel you to confront Caroline, to reclaim your strength. Donât let her win. Turn this pain into power."
As you sat there, the enormity of the situation began to sink in. You had been through so much, and the path ahead was uncertain. You had expected to loathe the coupleâs therapy, but surprisingly, it turned out to be a beneficial experience.
đ¸đ¸đ¸đ¸
After the couple's therapy, the silence between you and Bucky was palpable, each of you grappling with the raw emotions that had surfaced.
The therapy had stripped away your filters, leaving you both exposedâyour anger and frustration flowing freely. Bucky remained stoic, absorbing your harsh words with an almost resigned patience.
Returning to the Barnes household, the atmosphere was thick with tension. The room was filled with Buckyâs family: his parents, Julius and Caroline; his brother, Shawn, who struggled with cocaine and felt diminished by his inability to meet Carolineâs lofty expectations; and Hazel, Buckyâs sister and Nateâs mother.
Hazel, having felt overshadowed as the spare child, had chosen a career in fashion to escape the constant comparison to Bucky, who was seen as the golden child.
You couldnât help but feel a twinge of sympathy for Shawn and Hazel, both of whom shared your misery under Carolineâs disdain. But that sympathy was tempered by their enjoyment of watching you suffer, thanks to their motherâs contempt.
Greg, a family friend, was the bearer of the news that the whole family would attend the upcoming convention event.
âI donât think itâs a good idea,â you said firmly, your tone clipped.
âWhy⌠why?â Greg asked, confused.
Caroline rolled her eyes in exasperation. âHere we go.â
Bucky tried to interject, âDonâtâŚâ
You cut him off with a steely gaze. âAfter that consultation, you still want to continue this?â
Caroline's eyes narrowed. âI knew we couldnât trust her.â
Shawn chuckled, and Hazel remained indifferent.
âQuiet,â Julius commanded, his voice brooking no argument. The room fell silent.
With a sense of finality, you approached Caroline. âYouâre so jealous of me,â you said, your voice dripping with disdain.
Carolineâs eyes widened, a mixture of anger and shock. âWhat are you talking about?â
âBecause you know Iâm going to get what you canât have,â you smirked, savoring the moment. âBeing the wife of the Vice President.â
âYou bitch,â Caroline spat, something snapped inside her. Deep down, you were rightâshe was jealous of you. You were younger, smarter, and luckier. It was her dream to be in your position, but now it seemed like she had paved the way for you instead. Whatâs worse, you didnât fit her criteria at all. She felt you didnât deserve this.
Without warning, Caroline lunged at you, grabbing your hair. The two of you were soon locked in a fierce struggle, yanking each otherâs hair and grappling with a fury that left no room for remorse. The physical confrontation was liberating, an outlet for all the anger you had been holding back.
You felt no fear and no guilt towards the seventy-year-old woman. At last, you could release all the anger you had been holding in.
Waiting for karma takes too long, and you canât expect God to do all the work. So you took this chance to give her a lesson she wonât forget.
âStop! STOP!â Bucky and Juliusâs voices cut through the chaos as they tried to separate you. Shawn and Hazel, their faces a mix of curiosity and apathy, slowly backed away from the scene.
It was a struggle to pry you apart; Caroline, in her rage, was more unruly and disheveled compared to your own controlled fury.
âHufft,â you adjusted your disheveled dress and hair, glaring at Caroline with a fierce, triumphant look. âYou know what? I hope your son wins, so I can rub my new position right in your face.â
Carolineâs expression was one of shock and fury, her face a portrait of someone who had been dealt a blow she wasnât prepared for. Her eyes were wild with a mixture of anger and disbelief.
âYouâre absolutely right,â you looked at Bucky, your voice steady. âItâs a once-in-a-lifetime chance to live in the White House.â
Carolineâs gritted her teeth.
âIf the world wants to see us as a happily married couple,â you said with a cold smile, âIâll give them the most blissful marriage theyâve ever seen. Itâll be the kind of marriage everyone talks about when they mention a perfect union.â
Buckyâs eyes widened in surprise at your cold declaration. For a moment, he was stunned, but as he processed your words, admiration and pride flickered across his face. He straightened, a hint of a smile forming, clearly impressed by your bold resolve and newfound strength.
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Happy Little Family
đ"Taking Back What's His"
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 6170
Tags: dark!Bucky, mafia/mob au, dubcon/noncon, a/b/o, threats and coercion, rape, forced pregnancy, forced domestic "bliss", yandere, kid fic
Summary: You thought you'd left behind the man who turned out to be more dangerous than you'd ever imagined. But one day he walks back into your life and reminds you that, come hell or high water, you're all going to be one happy. little. family.
This chapter: You try one last, desperate ploy to escape, but it doesn't exactly work out. And James hasn't come alone. The next time you wake up, you're a long way from home.
Nickname Dictionary: vorishka = "little thief" mamochka = "mommy/little mother" kotenok= "kitty/kitten" omegya = (made up) Russian spelling of omega omegechka = (made up) "little omega" krasotka = "Pretty(n.)/pretty one" pchelka = "little bee"
2. Taking Back What's His
(Wait! I haven't read part 1 yet!)
He says something to you, after. Words that might as well be in his native Russian, for how well you take them in. But they're soft, and reassuringâheâs pleased. His body weight moves off the bed.
When you finally open your eyes and blink up at the ceiling, itâs the softest baby pink all around the edges, like smoke curling into your vision. Itâs nice, peaceful. Feels good-all-over in that way that painkillers do. You havenât experienced it since the last time you had sex with an alpha.
Which James unfortunately seems to have figured out was with him, almost two years ago.Â
âOh, kotenok, You havenât been fucking anybody.âÂ
Youâre still in the afterglow, mind muzzy, all of your previous panic and fear blunted near to the point of erasure with how nice it feels to float, when you hear Jamesâ pleased chuckle from where heâs getting dressed. He comes back and leans over you. âHey Sweetheart. Feeling good?âÂ
You frown at him, though it takes a concerted effort to make any expression of displeasure. You want him to know you arenât happy, that this state heâs fucked you into isnât real. You want to slap that smug fucking look right off his face. All you manage to come up with is a pouty little âno" that makes James laugh.
âCome here.â He fixes your dress, then helps you up off the bed. He seems to be checking to make sure youâre steady on your feet before he lets you stand on your own. âYou good?â
âMâfine.â He knows you too well, knows how intense it can be for you, how strongly you react to him. You avoid his knowing gaze. Youâre not completely useless like this. You can still remember everything thatâs going on, can still remember June. âPlease,â you say again, trying to change the tone of your voice. âLet me give her to Hilde.â
James rolls his eyes. âRight, right. Your friend across the street.â
âPlease James?â You look up at him, pink edges all around his face, so pretty. Goddamn him. âSheâll be safe there.â
Again, something passes through his eyes too quickly for you to identify. It might be annoyance. He sighs, and the look, whatever it was, is gone. âSure thing, Doll. Babies need a lot of stuff. You might as well pack up what she needs.â
You nod tearfully, going to your closet to grab a bag. He follows close behind, sending a clear message that heâs not planning on letting you out of his sights while you do this. James isnât stupid, youâll give him that.
In the nursery, June is happy to see you and wants you to pick her up. You talk to her in a sweet, placating voice as you go around the room grabbing different things that sheâll need and stuffing them in the bag. At this point you know to be grateful for the haze. Even as it tapers off, itâs blunting the sorrow that you know would otherwise have you sobbing and your voice clogging with tears. This way at least, youâre able to keep June thinking everything is alright. This way she isnât scared.Â
Itâs when youâre crouched beside the changing table, stuffing diapers into the bag with James behind you that you get the idea: Downstairs: the kitchen: in the drawer. Your gun.
You stop moving long enough that James notices. âWhatâre you doing? Come on.â
You stand back up. Yes. You have to do it. This is the only chance you have at getting out of this and not losing June. You lick your lips nervously before turning back around to face him. âI ⌠have to get her bottles and stuff from downstairs,â you say, hoping that the lingering post-coital haze is enough to keep your true intentions off your face. Your eyes flick up to James, whoâs squinting at your tits.
âBottle?â He starts to smirk, and you glare at him.
âYes. Asshole. I wonât exactly be around to feed her, now will I?âÂ
His face softens at that and he gives you an apologetic look. âRight. Well go on, then.âÂ
You move for the hallway, realize heâs not following you, and turn back in confusion. Heâs beside the crib, holding his hand out for June to touch. Your heart leaps from your spot in the doorway. âWhat are you doing?â
He arches an eyebrow. âIâm waiting right here until you come back upstairs,â he says, his message clear.Â
Your pulse picks up, but you force yourself to nod. Youâre useless without that gun. You have to get to it. He narrows his eyes at you while June giggles and reaches for his wiggling fingers. âNo games.â
âYeah,â you whisper, and turn and head for the stairs.Â
Itâs pure torture to move at a casual speed, especially as your mind is clearing and the fearful emotions returning. In the downstairs hallway, you check once over your shoulder that James hasnât followed you, then pick up your pace, hurrying into the kitchen and heading straight for the drawer where you keep the gun.
Your eyes tear up as you maneuver past the digital lock that you installed for nothing. Juneâs still crawling. She never even got old enough to toddle over here. You press the code into the keypad, cringing when it does its quiet little two-tone âbeepâ at being unlocked. You wait, heart in your throat until you hear the mechanism moving, then rip open the drawer.Â
Your heart stops and your brain freezes and all you can think is: No. No, no noâÂ
âLooking for this?âÂ
You whirl around, and there he is: standing on the other side of the kitchen, leaning against the sink as he holds your only weapon in his hands.
His face is relaxed, Goddamn him, as he pretends to ignore your horror and instead holds the gun up to flippantly inspect it. âI have to say, Doll, Iâm impressed. I wouldâve expected some puny girl gun. Ruger, Derringer. But this?â He turns the Skorpion in his hands, and chuckles softly when he sees the cartridge. âJesus. You really wanted to blow a hole in somebody, didnât you?â His eyes finally drag up to you, the hand heâs holding the gun with dropping down by his side as he starts walking over, slowly, step by step, eyes boring into you with a growing anger.
Oh shit. Dread curls in your gut but youâre frozen. Bolting now wouldnât even get you to the staircase. He presses in close, pinning you against the countertop. He brings the gun up and nudges your jaw with it, leaning in and breathing in your face, âDid you really think I wouldnât find it, vorishka?â[little thief]
Heâs taunting you with your own failure, and you canât stop the whimper that breaks from your throat at having your one and only plan foiled so pathetically easily. âJames,â you plead, âI didnâtââ
âShh sh sh. None of that, now.â Heâs speaking softly, sweetly, but heâs furious. He drags his lips over your cheek and the barrel of the gun you stole from him over the other. âSo what was the plan? How were you going to kill me with my own gun? Pop upstairs and shoot up the nursery?â
âN-no.â
âAh. Right. Youâre smarter than that. You wouldâve waited for me to come down and see what the fuck was taking you so long, or put it in the duffle and waited until we dropped the whelp off at the neighbors. Is that it?"
You sniffle and nod, angry at him for being such an all-knowing asshole. âYou canât hold that against me,â you say, trying to defend yourself.
He nods thoughtfully. âHmm. Yes, I suppose youâre right. I canât blame you for that.â Your shoulders start to relax, that is until he pulls back to glare at you and holds the gun to you again, this time pointing it right underneath your chin. He looks angrier than youâve ever seen him. âBut do you know what I can hold against you, Little thief?â Your face pinches in fear, sure that youâre about to be shot, and he digs the muzzle cruelly into your skin, forcing you to look at him. âThe fact that that pup up there is ten months old, and Iâve never even fucking seen her.âÂ
Your eyes widen as you realize: he knows. You open your mouth to say something, anything, but he beats you to it.
âDid you really think I wouldnât be able to tell sheâs mine?âÂ
âJames,â
âAll this time!â he hisses, hurt lancing through his features. âYou kept her from me! What gives you the right?âÂ
âIâI didnâtââ
He growls and pushes away from you, several steps back, glaring. âNothing, is the answer youâre looking for. You had no right to do that.âÂ
You try to edge to the side, but freeze when he straightens his arm and points the gun right at you. âJames, wait âŚâ
He aims it at your face, but then lowers it for a center mass shot, which is what really convinces you youâre about to die. âSay goodbye, mamochka,â he says, with steely eyes and his finger curling over the trigger.Â
Itâs a submachine gun that fires in three shot bursts, or fully automatic. Either way, you know youâre about to be riddled with bullets, so you start to hyperventilate. Itâs an embarrassing reaction, but at least you have the dignity of knowing what your last words on this earth wouldâve been. âDonât hurt her,â you gasp.
His eyes fill with rage and he pulls the trigger.Â
⌠Nothing happens, but youâre bracing so hard that it takes you a full two or three seconds to realize it. Then, when you do realize it, and you see James standing there looking grim but completely unsurprised that you havenât been shot, all of the breath rushes out of your lungs. You feel like youâre about to faint, which is apparently what heâs waiting for.Â
He ejects the empty magazine, shaking his head in disbelief. âYou really thought Iâd do it, didnât you?â He takes a step forward, but pauses when you flinch back. âWhat the hell have you convinced yourself that I am?âÂ
You step back again when he moves. âDonât,â you whisper. âDonât.â
âDonât, donât,â he whispers, mocking you. âDonât what? Donât take back whatâs mine? The mother of my pup? A pup I didnât get to see grow or come into this world?â Your breath hitches with emotion and he doesnât miss it, the bastard. âYeah,â he says darkly. âYou robbed me of that. But Iâll get over it, donât worry.â He leers up and down your body in its flimsy sundress. âIâll be putting another one in you real soon.â
You see red. Fury sweeps through you and stings your eyes, roars in your ears. You grab the nearest thing to you, which is the edge of the utensils crock on the counter. It spills over and your hand closes around the handle of the meat mallet. You cry out and swing at him, wanting to smash his smug fucking face to smithereens.Â
âWoah-ho, easy there.â He laughs and takes a surprised step back, as though youâre nothing but a tantruming child. âStop being so dramatic.â
You growl and lunge for him again, but cut off in a shriek as someone suddenly grabs you from behind. The meat mallet clatters to the floor as youâre hauled back against the hard body of another man. One big arm wraps around your middle, and the other holds a cloth up at your face, pressing it over your mouth. âMmph!â you yell out, muffled, and get a huge inhale of chlorine-like smell into your lungs for your trouble. You hold your breath and thrash, but itâs less than useless. The person holding you is large and strong. When you try to headbutt him, it doesn't even clip his chin. You bring your hands up to try and claw at the hand holding the cloth over your mouth, but your nails meet metal instead of skin, and you gasp in another inhale of chemicals as you realize who it is. âMmph!â Â
James steps up close, smirking fondly as he watches you fighting the urge to inhale. Eventually he tuts and reaches up to cup your cheek. âShhh, omegechka. Stop. Stop fighting now. Itâs all over.âÂ
âNngh!â
âJust take a deep breath and go to sleep. Everythingâll be alright, I promise. Just relax.â You whimper as you feel yourself running out of air, knowing that your bodyâs going to force you to draw breath in a second. James leans in and kisses your forehead tenderly. âIâm not going to hurt you,â he whispers, just as your vision starts to fade out, âor our daughter.â
The smell of professionally scented, circulating air hits you first, and then the taste of old pennies in your mouth. Then, a gradually increasing sense of awareness of your body in space and time. At first you think you're somewhere very bright, as colors and rainbows dance through your lashes, but the more you blink your eyes open, the more the brightness fades and your vision comes into focus.
And there he is: holding a crystal tumbler and looking like he's been waiting for you to come round. "Well hello there, Sleepyhead,â he says. âWelcome back." He takes a sip of whatever it is heâs drinking, the ice cubes clinking softly against the sides of the glass. He looks totally relaxed.
You sit up straighter in the seat where youâd been slumped, moving your tongue around inside of your dry mouth and trying to remember what happened. And then reality hits you in waves, each one more devastating than the last:
JamesâHe found you.Â
JuneâShe's not there.
"How're you feeling? Thirsty?"
You blink, dazed, a few lingering specks still floating at the edges of your vision. You look around the room youâre in, clocking your surroundings. Windows, cabinâShit. You're already on a plane. Pressure builds rapidly at the backs of your eyes as you fight not to cry, thinking of your baby girl left behind, never getting to see her again.
You didnât even get to say goodbye.Â
Buckyâs eyes sharpen on you when your stifled sob breaks out and you throw a hand over your mouth. "Steve,â he says, still watching you in concern. âGet her a bottle of water."
âSure thing, boss.â
And then the worst realization of all: You look over and see the winter fucking soldier walking down the aisle, holding your baby.
They've got June.
Your eyes widen and you make a distressed little âmeepâ of a sound. âSteve!â you blurt, and he turns to face you. He looks surprised that youâve spoken directly to him. Heâs not wearing his usual black mask, but he still looks huge and intimidating, and itâs like seeing a wild animal right next to your babyâdangerous, wrong. Your mouth works uselessly as you stare at his hands on Juneâs body: one supporting her head, and the metal one scooped under her butt. You see her back rise and fall steadily through her bumblebee onesie and you realize that sheâs asleep. âI-is she okay?â you ask, heart in your throat.Â
Steveâs eyes narrow at you, but he nods curtly. âSheâs fine.âÂ
Across from you, James scoffs, drawing your attention back to him. âHeâs going to put her down. Thereâs a crib in the back. Sheâll be fine,â he says, when he sees you stiffen in protest. âYou and I have some catching up to do, vorishka.â
âI thought we did that back in my bedroom,â you snap.
âYou still want the water?â Steve asks.
âThatâs okay.â Bucky keeps his eyes on you. âIâll take care of her. You just stay back there with pchelka while she sleeps.âÂ
Steve nods, and you canât help yourself. âWait! Please. Please give her to me. Steve?â You sit forward with your arms outstretched, but can only watch helplessly as the other man obeys Bucky and ignores you, disappearing back into the next section of the plane. Bastard never did like you.Â
âSheâll be fine,â Bucky assures you. âJust sit back and relax. We wonât be in the air for too long.â
You hate it, but you do sit back in the chair. James wonât hurt her. You know that. Especially now that you know he knows. You look around the cabin, taking in the wide, leather seats and gleaming wood finishes. Thereâs a couch, tv, a bar. A fucking electric fireplace. It's the sort of luxury you used to go starry-eyed over; incredibly rich men, fat or old or ugly, tripping all over themselves to spoil you.
⌠Only, James was never any of those things.
âThis is your plane?â you ask, dragging your hand over the arm of your seat.
James smirks. âWhat? You thought Iâd kidnap you and then fly commercial?âÂ
You purse your lips at his joke. âI guess not.â You relax back, trying to get your bearings. It is bad news that youâre already on a plane with him. Youâll be landing at his private airstrip at the Siberia compound, which gives you no middle ground to run. You bite your lip as your thoughts race and you try to think of anything you might be able to do once you get toâ
âStop it,â James says quietly, drawing your attention back to him. Heâs giving you a stern look. âYou barely got away before, and that was on your own. Now weâve got our daughter. Anything you try will put her in unnecessary danger and you know that.â He shakes his head, some of that sadness from before creeping back into his eyes. âYouâre not leaving me again, omegechka.â
âIâm not?â you echo, stuck in place by his stare, by the memories you share with him, and the fear you have of what heâs planning for your punishment. âWhat are you going to do?â
âIâm just taking back whatâs mine, Sweetheart. You do realize that?â You fail to answer him and his gaze hardens just a little bit. âThatâs okay. Youâll see it eventually. This isnât a bad thing. If you had just stuck around a little longer instead of lying to me and running off, then you wouldâve seen it before, and we wouldnât have to be going through this right now.â He raises his drink to you in a little salute. âYou, me, and pchelka? Weâre going to be a family.â
You donât refuse the water he gives you, or the drink that he mixes for you, after. If James wanted to keep you drugged up until reaching Siberia, he certainly couldâve done so without allowing you to wake up on the plane. Youâre only conscious right now because he wants you to be. And because you know that, you donât protest the drink he prepares for you over at the bar. To be honest, a stiff one actually sounds really good right about now.
âThank you,â you murmur as he hands it over, still unmoored by this drastic shift in circumstances. A few hours ago youâd been safe in your cottage, then suddenly you werenât. One minute youâre sure youâre about to get a bullet in the face from this man, and the next, heâs got you sipping thousand dollar vodka on his private jet, calmly explaining how he intends to keep you and force you into some twisted form of domestic bliss.Â
âI had a whole renovation done for her,â he tells you. âPchelka will have plenty of room to play and grow.â
You frown, hating the idea of your daughter growing up in that cold, Siberian fortress. You donât care if heâs bought her an indoor waterslide and a herd of ponies. Itâs no place for a child. âWhat does that mean?â you ask grumpily. âThat word: chelkâ? You keep using it. You canât just rename my daughter.â
Hurt flashes in his eyes, but he wipes it away fast. âPchelka means little bee. The outfit you put her in has bees on it.â
âOh ⌠Right.â You love that set. Itâd been another gift at the shower, from Hilde.
âAnd sheâs my daughter too,â James says tightly.
You gulp at the bitterness in his tone, at his eyes boring into you with reproach. Itâs silly, but you do feel bad about hurting him in this one way, at least. âHer name is June,â you offer quietly.
His face draws tight with emotion thatâs impossible for you to decipher. Mostly you just sense hurt coming off of him, tingeing his scent and making it into something mournful and awful. He stares at you for a long time. âYou made me think youâd lost it,â he eventually whispers. âHow could you do that to me?â
You shake your head. âIâm sorry.âÂ
âNo youâre not. Youâre just sorry that I found you.â
âI saw you kill people, James!â you cry. âI saw who you really are. I couldnât stay. Not after that.â
His mouth ticks up at the corners. âOh, Sweetheart. Youâve got no idea who I am, or what Iâve done for you.â
âWhatâs that supposed to mean?â
His eyes gleam and he lifts his drink, tipping back the last of it. âDo you even remember where we met?âÂ
You frown. âOf course.â Youâd met him on a yacht, off the coast of Greece. At a party youâd been paid to attend as one of a flock of similarly hired âpretty girlsâ. Five hundred bucks just to sit around and drink cocktails for a few hours and make whoever owned the yacht look like a successful playboy. James had taken one look at you and made it his mission to charm you off of that boat with him. And youâd fallen for it, hook line and sinker. âWhat does that have to do with anything?â
âYou donât know as much as you think you do,â he says disdainfully. âDonât know how lucky you really are. I saved you.â
You scoff. âYouâre no different from those boat guys. You think youâre so special, Godâs gift to omegas, I get it.â
âNo,â he grits. âYou really donât.â
âDonât tell me what I donât know! I know what I saw. All over the floor of your goddamn office. I slipped in it for Christâs sake!â
âRight, right. The men you saw me kill,â he says, referencing the scene youâd walked in on just before youâd faked your miscarriage and fled. âYou were eavesdropping outside the door, werenât you, Little thief?â
You jut your chin out. âYes. So what?âÂ
âYou know, Iâd always assumed you heard the entire conversation. Now I realize I was wrong.âÂ
âWhat?â
He laughs under his breathâat your expense, you suspect. âWho exactly do you think they were?â
âYour business associates. The same sort of underworld, black market scum as you. Only they didn't work for you. You screwed them over and they were there to collect what you owed them, and you murdered them instead.â
James scoffs and smiles angrily, sticking his tongue into his cheek as he looks away in frustration. "Figures," he mutters.
âWhat?â you snap. âYouâre gonna deny it?â
âIâm not denying anything. But I killed them for you.â
âOh please. Just stop it. Stop lying! I know what you do for work.âÂ
Granted, you'd been a little slow on the uptake back then, too enamored and swept up in the whirlwind romance with your first Alpha that you hadnât ever stopped to wonder where his money came from, or where it was he jetted off to âon businessâ every few days. Itâd taken a year for you to piece it together, to see the true magnitude of the enterprise he ran, and how dark it really was.
Sitting in front of you now, he doesnât deny it, which only bolsters your disdain for him. âI donât want that in my life,â you hiss. âArms dealing, drugs, smuggling, mercenaries. And apparently human trafficking as well.â
His eyes flash. âThey donât call it that, you know. Itâs called the âskin tradeâ.â
âI donât care.â
He gets up to go pour himself another drink at the bar. âRight,â he snaps, like youâre an idiot. âYouâre so fucking naĂŻve, krasotka [pretty (n.)]. So convinced that Iâm the devil. But you have no idea how much worse it couldâve been for you.â
âYou threatened to sell your own daughter before you figured out she was yours!â
Refusing to be provoked, he returns to stand right in front of you, forcing you to look up at him towering over you. âI knew she was mine from the second I walked in that house,â he says, making your breath catch.Â
âHow?â
He smiles nastily and takes a sip from his drink, then sets it aside. He leans over you with his hands on the back of your seat, caging you in. You can smell the expensive alcohol on his breath as he gets in your face and tells you, âI put that baby in you, moya omegya. Sheâs a part of me. You think I wouldnât be able to figure that out? Think an Alpha doesnât know the scent of his own flesh and blood?â
You tense, fighting not to shrink away. âYouâre making that up.â
He chuckles lowly and puts his face right next to yours, cheek to cheek, savoring your reaction. âSweetheart,â he purrs, âI may not have forced a mating bite on you back then like I should have, but there are other ways to leave your mark on someone.â He dips in to kiss your neck, right over your unbitten glands. âI found you by your scent,â he whispers. âSniffed you out.â
You shiver at his hot breath on your skin and the deadly soft tone of his voice. The way your body responds to him isnât anything you can control, and he knows that, but it still makes you flush with embarrassment when he takes a deep inhale in the bend of your neck and hums with satisfaction when he smells the effect heâs had on you. âI wouldnât have sold her anyway,â he tells you, pulling back and picking up his drink. âI want you to know that. I donât participate in the skin trade.â
You swallow thickly, watching him watch you as he waits for you to react to him in some way. You donât know why you believe him about this one thing, but you do. âBut youâre aware of it,â you say. âYou know it happens, and you donât do anything to stop it.â
His jaw works in frustration. âIâve interfered a time or two, when I could get away with it.â
âWell, aren't you a hero.â
âI didnât say that,â he snaps. âI said Iâve done what little I could. These men make a lot of money dealing in omegas, and they donât take kindly to being stolen from.â
âI can imagine.â
âNo,â he mutters into his drink. âYou really canât.â
Thereâs something oddly bitter in his tone, like he's working hard not to tell you something. You bite your lip and watch him for a minute. â... How much?â you ask.
âWhat?â His eyes darken when he figures out what youâre asking. âNo.â
âTell me.â
âIt depends,â he grits, glaring at you. "Now cut it out."
Sober, you might have; but half a vodka spritzer after nineteen months of no alcohol has you bolder than you usually would be. You look down at yourself, feigning flippancy. âWell what about me? How much would I go for?â
âKotenok,â he warns lowly, growling when you continue to press him with a snotty little,Â
âCome on, I thought you were such a dangerous criminal? You canât even discuss a little human trafficking with the weak omega you just trafficked?âÂ
He probably knows youâre trying to antagonize him, but he still rises to the bait. He sits back and lets his eyes drag over your body in a way that makes your pulse pick up. âWell,â he drawls, âyou just had a baby. So thatâs less right there.â Your nostrils flare angrily and he gives you a look. âYouâre the one who asked,â he reminds, waiting until you give him a nod to continue. He gives you another onceover, this time lingering in certain places longer, a softer look in his eyes for the softer parts of your body. He almost seems to get distracted. He catches himself overindulging and looks away, like itâs hurting him to consider you this way. âMost people want their omegas untouched,â he says quietly. âEspecially if the buyer's alpha, which they usually are. Itâs an instinctual thing for us. Weâre very driven to possess. We donât like to share.â
âYeah, tell me about it,â you mutter.
His gaze snaps back to you, a painful amount of familiarity in his eyes. âYouâdve been a couple million, back when we first met.â
Your eyes widen. You weren't expecting that. âBut ⌠I wasnât even a virgin.â
He arches an eyebrow. âI said untouched, not virginal. Not in that way. Alpha buyers want unbonded and never bred, first and foremost.â He leers at you. âNot that there arenât some whoâll pay a little extra to pop a girlâs cherry. But thatâs not the main thing theyâre looking for, when they buy.âÂ
You scowl. âRight. So I guess Iâm damaged goods now."
âOh no, mamochka,â he says seriously. âYouâve only gone up in value in my eyes. Though believe me when I say Iâm more than happy to contribute to the depletion of your market value." He raises his glass to his lips, looking darkly pleased. âYouâre not for sale, and you never will be. Youâre mine.â
You're embarrassed to be the one to break eye contact first, but you canât keep listening to him talk about how much he likes you and watching him look at you like youâre his most prized possession. With any other man youâd just be disgusted, but James has always had a knack for getting you flustered, and he knows it. Thereâs always been an inexplicable pull between the two of you, and he knows that, too. Itâs the main reason why you've always refused his attempts to bond you. You're terrified of what itâll be like after, since you already know how pathetically helpless you are around him without a bond.
âI have to go to the bathroom,â you mumble quietly. âWhere is it?âÂ
âJust down there.â He nods in the direction behind you, opposite from where Steve had gone with June.
You press your lips together and get up without looking at him, but you can feel his eyes on you the entire time youâre walking away.
âDonât take too long in there, kotenok,â he purrs from back in his seat. âOr Iâll have to come in after you.â
In the bathroom, you splash water on your face and lean against the sink, looking at the girl staring back at you in the mirror. You blink, and she blinks, but it feels like youâre looking at another person, someone you donât know. She looks fragile. Tired, and dazed. Juneâs been sleeping through the night for months, but itâs been a hell of a day.
You scrutinize your reflection, smoothing your dress and tucking your hair behind your ears, thinking about how you have zero makeup on. Then you scoff at yourself for caring what you look like in front of him. You think about how much youâve changed in the seventeen months since you ran away. Not just physically, but mentally. Youâve had to be so strong. For June, for yourself. Itâs been awful, and lonely, and youâve hated yourself for not being able to stop missing him.Â
You sniffle and splash more water on your face, grumpily thinking that postpartum hormones are so much worse than the pregnancy ones. You grab the towel off the wall, but freeze when you bring it up to pat your face dry and get a smell of it.
Oh.
You whimper, unable to keep from pressing it harder to your mouth and nose and inhaling deeply. Itâs Jamesâ scent, and it smells so good. It smells like Safety and Love and Alpha. You hear the sound of your own, needy mewl and you gasp, yanking the towel away from your face and tossing it into the sink, trying to keep your shit together. You brace your hands on the counter and glare at your reflection to tell her to stop it, stop it, stop it, but all it takes is seeing your lower lip quiver, and soon your entire face is collapsing in long-repressed sadness. You turn away from the mirror with a pathetic noise, throat aching from the urge to keen.Â
Why does this have to be happening?! Youâve tried so hard, for so long. To be strong for June, to get over him, to move on! You bury your face in your hands and choke on a wrenching sob. You know you have to be quiet, have to stop, have to pull yourself together before heâ
A soft knock comes from outside the bathroom. âDoll?â
You whine and hastily search for a lock on the door, but there is none, and James hears your crying and pulls the door open. âHoney,â he mourns when he sees you. âWhatâs wrong?âÂ
You push past him, hurrying in the direction he isnât blocking. âLeave me alone!â you cry, hating the blubbering in your voice that makes you sound just as weak as James thinks you are. You arrive in a perfectly made up bedroom with no point of egress other than the one you arrived through. You whine in distress, circle around helplessly, and then throw yourself onto the bed when he arrives at the doorway looking worried. âLeave me alone!â you cry, curling onto your side and pulling one of the pillows down to bury your face in. At least it isnât suffused with Jamesâ scent. You still cry though, unable to keep it in anymore now that youâve started.
He tuts sadly from the doorway and comes into the room slowly. He stands there for a long minute, silent, before he sighs and his weight comes onto the bed. âSweetheart,â he says.
âJust leave me alone,â you whine miserably. âGo away!â
âShh sh sh.â He curls up behind you, arms around your waist and legs pushing in behind yours. He kisses your shoulder and hugs you, but it only makes you cry harder at how achingly familiar it is. âItâs okay,â he murmurs between kisses. He doesnât try to get you to stop crying, or ask you whatâs wrong. He seems to know exactly why youâre breaking down, and he simply devotes all his efforts to helping you calm down in your own time. âSâokay, sâokay. Everythingâs gonna be okay,â he keeps saying, soothing you with a deep rumble in his chest. âIâve got you, Sweetheart. Iâve got you now. Itâs all gonna be okay. Shhh.â
At first, his placating makes you angry, but not enough to stop your crying, and once that tapers off from sobs to quiet, sniffling tears, you canât seem to dredge up the anger anymore. It isnât there.Â
âYou feeling a little better?â he asks kindly, gently tucking your hair behind your ear and then hugging you again.
You whine when you feel his lips against your neck. âIâm fine,â you rasp, voice coming out scratchy from all of the crying. You cringe and scrub your face into the pillow in embarrassment. âJust got a little sad.â
âYeah,â he agrees quietly, giving you a supportive squeeze. âThatâs okay.â
You hate how he says it, because itâs obvious that he knows why you were crying: Poor, sad little omega, bawling her eyes out over how much sheâs missed her Alpha. He nuzzles into your neck, telling you itâs okay and that youâre allowed to cry. As much as you hate him being able to see into you so easily, youâre just grateful that he isnât rubbing your face in it right now. The way he's holding you and comforting you feels good. You donât fight to get away from him.
The two of you lie there together for what feels like a long time. Once youâve stopped crying and are only giving the occasional sniffle for your runny nose, he goes back to running his hand over your side. Itâs a gesture of comfort. Heâs not groping you, but even still, you blush at the vulnerability of it. You find yourself glad that youâre facing away from him.Â
The plane shifts noticeably, and Jamesâ hand pauses on your hip. âPilot said weâre landing soon,â he murmurs. âShould probably go and get pchelka up.â
You sniffle and fight off the urge of resurfacing tears at hearing him reference June. One day of knowing his daughter and already heâs got a nickname for her. You should be annoyed by that, but instead it just makes your heart squeeze with emotion. âPchelka,â you whisper, trying out the word.Â
âYeah.â He hums happily and kisses your shoulder one last time. âLittle bee. Come on. Letâs go.â
You donât think about how itâs far too soon to have arrived at your destination, until youâre back in the main room of the cabin on the way to where Steve disappeared with June, earlier. You pause at the windows, peering out at the landscape. âThis isnât Russia,â you say, confused. The plane is definitely descending, but youâve only been in the air for a few hours at most. âJames?â you ask, as he comes up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist. Together, you both look out at the looming mountains and turquoise waters below. âWhere are we?â you breathe.
James rests his chin on your shoulder and sighs happily. âHome,â he says. âWeâre home.â
A.N.: See? Much less Rapey! Plenty more mega-dub con to come though, so don't you angst-lovers worry. Thanks for reading!đSarah
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Miss Americana & The heartbreak Prince
Bucky Barnes x Reader (AU)
In no world were you meant to be together, but in every universe, you were meant for each other.
A/N: I present you grumpy sunshine wrapped in enemies(ish) to lovers with Beefy Boxer/Biker Bucky.
Written in Third POV. No use of Y/N. However, the reader is referred to as a female. Likes, comments, reblogs are VERY VERY highly appreciated.
Also, I tried to be as inclusive as possible. But my delusion couldn't be controlled I'm sorry.
Ngl this is for me more than anything.
Also, I'm thinking about making this its own universe and maybe write more of it. Tell me what you think
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You hated Bucky Barnes, and he hated you.
The two of you should have never crossed paths. Your worlds should have never met. But the wall separating you could only hold for so long.
The infamous boxer was a phenomenon in his field. Unbeatable and astute, Bucky Barnes held his reputation with pride. He was stronger than all and the smartest the game had. His jab was as numbing as the winter. His techniques were as calculated as a soldier's. Bucky Barnes was as hard as nails. A legend.
To keep up with the notoriety, it was rumoured that Barnes and his team were also a biker gang. It was never confirmed, but the black leather jacket he always had on, the long hair touching his shoulder or tidied in a low bun, the motorbike barked in front of the gym, and the intimidating sense lingering around him. It was never denied, either.
In the mornings, Bucky Barnes ran a successful gym with his two bestfriends, Steve Rogers and Sam Wilson. Both played occasionally, but only Bucky was the professional, so they were more his trainers. They also trained other players and armatures. They tried to gain other normal customers, but it didn't always work. With a reputation like theirs, attracting customers wasn't easy.
It was usually the same for nights, unless they had matches. Most of their fights were held on Stark's property. He ran an empire, and boxing was the dominant centre, led by the biggest champion. And Stark lets Bucky have it his way, just like he likes. As long as Bucky keeps on bringing these huge numbers into their pockets, both are happy and content.
So it was out of the nature for Bucky to have zero interest in the new restaurant that opened up right next door to the gym. They had their regularly frequented places. The bar run by Romanoff and Belova, a couple of blocks away from Stark's property, was more than enough. He didn't even bother to throw a glance at it. Even after he knew that the owner had come by and given out menus and promised them discounts if they stopped by, there was still nothing.
Until one night. Bucky got carried away in training. He had an important match coming up. He knew his opponent barely stood a chance, but Bucky enjoyed the thriller of the game. The sweat and blood that go into it He didn't remember a time when he didn't want to do this. It was like it was programmed so deeply in his brain. He was made for this.
Everyone left, one by one. Until then, it was only him. After so many hours, he finally got tired. He threw his gloves aside and went to take a shower to remove the evidence of his hard work before going back home. As he was locking the gym's door, he heard his stomach growl, reminding him that he needed food. He was starving. Before deciding to wait and order food once he got home, the big sign caught his eye. They did indeed have a restaurant right next door. He admitted he was too tired to cook or wait for delivery. He needed food, then crashed into his bed. So maybe the closest restaurant would be useful.
Once he stepped in, he felt out of place immediately. His dark clothes and huge frame made him look like a stranger compared to the light-coloured painted walls. Some had flowers, and others had stars drawn on them. There were fairy lights in some corners. The aromatic scent was everywhere. Bucky almost winced at how bright and colourful everything felt. This was an alternative universe that he didn't belong in.
"Hi, how can I help you?" An even sweeter voice rang and caught Bucky's attention, breaking him from his trance of observing the place.
He turned around to find the prettiest girl he had ever seen standing behind the counter. Your beauty caught him off guard. He never believed someone could be so beautiful before. But here you were, standing. Taking his breath away.
He recovered very quickly and moved to stand in front of the counter. With the most loving smile, you handed him the menu. He took a look at the menu and wanted to laugh out loud. Dish names were just as cheerful as the atmosphere.
Out of habit, you started explaining and recommending stuff for him. He interrupted you, putting in his order. You didn't give it much thought but took his order happily.
You apologised for the lack of waiters, as it was almost closing time and it was only you. No answer. With his blank stare, you told him he could sit wherever he wanted. Only then did he notice the empty restaurant. It was just you and him. It was that late. So he took a seat at the nearest table.
Not taking much, you returned with his order. You placed it in front of him with a big smile on your face. You knew right away who that was the minute he walked in. James Barnes. The famous boxer who trains next door You have been praying after your small visit to them that they would be regular customers. The business was doing great. But the more, the merer. Always. Lots of people warned you about the men next door. But you didn't feel like they were as bad as people made them out to be. You were always so trusting, unless shown otherwise. So you were happy that, finally, one of them stopped by.
You moved away, letting him enjoy his food. Unable to fight your nature, you started talking to him as you continued cleaning the remaining parts of the place. No answer again. He didn't even bother to look at you. Okay. Maybe he had a rough day. Not all people are used to chatting.
Bucky was one of these people. His eyes widened as you started talking to him. People were never that friendly to him. People avoided him. Nobody tried to open up a conversation with him. He didn't know how to react. And he was too tired to try. So he practiced his other specialty. Silence. But even if he wouldn't admit it, Bucky found your voice calming. So he let you talk instead of just shutting you up.
You reduced your talking to a minimum. Only little remarks there and then to avoid complete silence. The second time, you heard his voice since he walked in and asked for the check. You brought the paper to the table he occupied, keeping your smile up and telling him that he got the 'neighbour discount' as you called it. You almost heard his scoff as you left him.
You had your back to the door, so you only turned around when you heard the door close. You didn't hear his footsteps, and most definitely, you didn't hear his goodbye, goodnight, or even thank you. Now that's rude.
You returned to the table to collect the check. But you found the review note you attached to every check empty. Not a single penmark. And that was more rude. You made sure that filling out the note only took seconds. You genuinely cared to hear people's opinions so you could be better and have the restaurant grow more.
So he didn't speak to you for more than two sentences. Didn't say thank you or goodbye. Didn't fill in the note. Okay, maybe you didn't want them as customers if they were all that rude.
It turns out they weren't that rude. However, Bucky was more rude than you thought.
A couple of days after Bucky's visit, you were surprised to see Bucky with another two men. You guessed they were Steve Rogers and Sam Wilson. The trio was all well-known. You doubted if Bucky was the one to recommend the restaurant. You weren't sure if he even liked the food. And you were right. He would be caught dead if he brought up the fairy world you called a restaurant. Even when it served the tastiest food he had ever had,
It was a slow day. No intense training or excessive fight preparation The three men didn't have much to do that day. So when Steve suggested trying out the restaurant, Bucky neither objected nor showed excitement.
So when they walked in, you couldn't help the feeling of surprise along with the tiny bit of happiness, hoping it would be a nicer visit this time. After preparing their orders and sending them out, you waited for a bit before you left the kitchen to greet them. Not before making sure you looked presentable.
With the small space and their loud voices, it wasn't hard to locate them. You approached them with a big smile and positive attitude.
"I wanted to make sure you were having a good time." You followed up after introducing yourself.
"The food is amazing. This burger is to die for." Steve was the first to compliment you, with Sam nodding and agreeing.
"You have one good chef." Sam added as he took another french fry into his mouth. "Send my regards to them."
"Actually, I'm also the chef." The statement caused a shocked expression to fill in their faces. They asked for details, and you briefly told them how you were the core of the small business as the owner and main chef.
The two men were polite, and they didn't seem annoyed by your chatty personality. In fact, they interacted with you and asked questions to learn more. And all they had to say were nice compliments. Except one.
"So tell me, sweetheart, what was the inspiration for the place? Was it a fairy garden or Disney's latest cartoon?" None of you were ready for the sarcastic comment Bucky threw at you.
You didn't let your smile break in the face of his sarcasm. Nor did you give much thought to the pet name. You put on a bigger smile now, looking at him.
"A bit of both." That's one thing about you: you refused to let the world change about you. You never reciprocate rudeness with rudeness.
"I can tell." Bucky was taken back by your response. He expected you to get offended, but you didn't.
"Thank you. It was my vision all along." You replied, your smile never leaving your face.
And that started your hate relationship with Bucky Barnes.
After that day, the men became regular customers. And it wasn't just the three men. Little by little, it was most of the team. First, it was just to try the good food. Then it was because they wanted to. They wouldn't admit it, but your place was like a breath of fresh air. Something so different from what they are used to. From what they are known for. From what people expected from them. And you never judged them, treated them differently, or asked about the rumours that followed them. So it was a calm change, but much needed.
But their favourite thing was yours and Bucky's constant bickering. Or more Bucky's. Nobody understood why Bucky was doing this. You never partook in his constant attempts to make fun of you. You always had a sweet response to fire back. You truly were the living embodiment of killing them with kindness.
However, he never stopped. Every time he stepped foot in the place, you claimed it was your biggest achievement. He had something rude to say. Something to annoy you with. Something to bother you. Sarcasm and jokes spilling out of him with no end whatsoever.
The number of times you wanted to punch him or snap at him right back was increasing. But you refused to give in. To let him win. He wouldn't be the one to change you. So you kept engaging with him only with gracious things to say.
Besides, you chose to think that everyone had their own battles and demons. And for sure, Bucky looked like he had lots of them. He looked rougher than most. His job made him appear invincible, but he wasn't. Nobody was. So he may drive you mad, but he deserves the gentle treatment you offered all.
Bucky had no idea why he was doing it. Why every time he saw you, he felt the urge to tease you. It wasn't like him. But he didn't fight it back.
"How are you, Tinkerbell?"
"You should buy green carpets. It will finish off the garden aesthetic."
"Here is the princess who got lost."
"The pasta was great, Barbie."
Stuff like this flew from him all the time. And not once did you get back at him. You stayed nice and polite. Your sweet self never crumbling.
There was something in you that drove him insane. Your warm eyes. Your bright smile. Your cheerful voice. Your positive mindset. Your kind heart. Your friendly nature. Your hard work. Your delicious food. Your colourful wardrobe of dresses, skirts, tops, and cardigans. He couldn't pinpoint what it was. Maybe it was all of it.
The deepest part of him knew why he was doing this. He liked you. He liked you so much. From the moment he entered your restaurant alone, the first time And the more he knew you, the more he liked you. You were special. And you were everything he wasn't. He thought if he got closer, he would be tinting you. He would bring darkness to your shine. A moral thing preventing him from speaking his truth. even thinking about it.
So he acted like a teenager. He made fun of you. In hopes of making you hate him. He convinced himself and the others that he didn't like your sunshine personality.
Until one day
It started off like any normal day. Bucky had a match coming up. So they all had something to do. The day was going fine. Up before Peter Parker, who was usually on reception duties, ran in and said there was fire in your place,
For a second, blood ran cold in Bucky's body. He heard ringing in his ears. Were you okay? He collected himself quickly, wanting to check for himself.
He threw the gloves away, almost pushing everybody out of the way to get out. And he was the first to see the chaos in the street. A firetruck was parked, and firemen were going in and out of your restaurant along with some policemen. His eyes were searching for you frantically until he spotted you.
You had some dust on your face and your white clothes. You were checking that everyone was okay and out safely. But you couldn't hide the quivering of your lips or your shaking body.
He couldn't help himself as he ran towards you. You turned as you felt someone approaching you. Without your control, your face softened, and tears blurred your sight once you noticed who it was.
"Bucky." You whispered as a way to ground yourself from all the mess that happened and is still happening.
Following his first instincts, Bucky pulled you into his chest, wrapping your trembling form in his arms and holding you so close to him. And the dam broke.
Sobs fled from you. Tears mixed with his sweat. Your fists gripped his white tank top. Your face hidden away in his chest.
You didn't know how it happened. You had been holding up well enough during it all. You had been managing the situation the best you could. However, when Bucky got here, your mind stopped working. Your mind gave up on you, letting your emotions hit you with full force, breaking down your bastion with no guarantee you would be caught.
But you were. You were braced by strong amrs, rubbing your back, laying small kisses on your hair, and whispering words of comfort in your ears. "I'm here. I'm right here." "You're okay. You're fine."
Your sobs ceased, but your body still shook against Bucky's. Tears remained to fall freely on your face. Bucky's hold was still firm but secure around you.
You only moved away from him when a policeman approached you, informing you that you were needed at the police station.
"I'm coming with you." Bucky's stern voice left no room for negotiation. It wasn't up to debate. He wasn't leaving you.
"I'll grab my stuff in a second." He turned to the policeman standing in front of you, making sure it was okay that he joined. And he got a nod of approval in return.
He left your side, walking towards the gym. He paid no attention to his friends standing by, who were puzzled by the encounter. And true to his words, he came back in seconds, his black leather jacket on, phone in hand, and wallet in hand.
He got to you, letting his hand wrap around your shoulder. The gesture was welcomed by you as you rested your head on his chest. Something about having Bucky spread calmness in you
At the police station, Bucky found out what really happened. It wasn't just fire. It was a robbery. A bunch of armed men attacked your restaurant, demanding money from you and all the people inside. As you are trying to handle the situation without panicking more, it was discovered that one of the customers was a cop, which sent the robbers into an unexpected turn. So they took all they could from the cash register and your own things before setting the kitchen on fire to run away without being caught.
Between talking with the insurance company, the bank, and watching security footage from your restaurants and the street, you spent the rest of the day in the station.
And Bucky didn't leave your side for a second of it.
He didn't leave you until you both got out of the cap in front of your apartment. And he didn't leave until he made sure you got inside safely.
Something about you being hurt sent Bucky into a spiral. Who was heartless enough to hurt such a sweet soul as you? To look at you and not want to give you everything? Bucky would never know. All he knew was that he never wanted to see you so afraid and shaken like today. To not see your smile lighting up your face. So he would do whatever it took to make sure you were always fine.
Which was why you found him by your building the first thing in the morning.
"You have lots of places to go today. Said I would join you."
And up until you were handed the keys to your restaurant brand new after the insurance company had finished the repairs, Bucky didn't leave you. He was always there. Helping you finish papers, going to the police station to identify the robbers, and buying new stuff for the restaurants. Everything. He was there for everything.
And you had to admit. It was lovely to have him. A helping hand you needed. Physically and emotionally. Someone to share this unfortunate journey with. And Bucky didn't bother it for a bit. And you appreciated having him.
So, it only felt right for him to be your first order after the reopening.
The truth was, you never hated Bucky, no matter how much you tried. His huge form, his steel blue eyes, his signature stare, his playful smirk. They all made you feel something. He made you feel something you couldn't quite understand. But it was a pleasant something. He annoyed you so much, but you never took it too seriously. Maybe he hated you, but you didn't.
Now, you didn't need him. You were ready to carry on with your life. He didn't know how to get back to normal. He couldn't. He couldn't pretend you didn't make his heart beat faster. You made his days better. But he was so unworthy of you. And he knew you could never look at him. Maybe you hated him, but he didn't.
He tried to get back to his life. Only training and matches. Only visiting your place with the others who quickly figured out what was happening. He needed to get you out of his mind. That lasted for two days.
When Bucky was closing the gym, he heard something coming from your restaurant. With a frown, he moved to see you still inside. He looked at his watch to check the time again. It was indeed late.
"What are you doing?" He didn't bother with greetings as he entered.
"Hi, Bucky." Your cheerful voice rang through the empty place.
"What are you doing?" He repeated his question, looking at the paper in front of you.
"I'm sending out advertisements and deal offerings to different places." You answered him with a smile.
"Sweetheart, do you know what time it's?" Bucky signed as he looked at you, looking clueless.
"C'mon, let's get you home." He moved towards you, taking the papers out of your hand and putting them down without messing them.
"But I have a lot to do." You tried to protest as he gathered your stuff and helped you out.
"It will still be here in the morning." And he was having none of it.
"I need to get the business going." You added.
"You can do that in the morning, too." Bucky led you out of the restaurant in spite of your complaining.
He took the key from your hand and handed it back to you after he closed up. You expected him to move away, but he didn't.
"How are you going to get home?" He hoped you wouldn't give him the answer he had in mind.
"It's not very far. I was going to walk." And it was it.
Do you not care about your safety, or do you think you are James Bond?
Bucky had to bite his tongue and not scold you right on the spot. He knew you were stressed about the business, so he didn't want to add more.
"Great. I was going somewhere there, too. Let me walk."
"You were?" You questioned him, not believing him, but he nodded quickly.
As a matter of fact, Bucky didn't have anywhere to go other than collapsing on his bed. But over his dead body were you going to walk back home alone in this hour
"Lead the way, princess." The return of the name, but a smile on your face. He may mean it as an insult. You didn't care. It sounded good coming from him.
And the two of you walked.
And somehow, without planning, it became a routine.
Bucky would finish at the gym and come straight to the restaurant. It didn't matter whether it was late or not. He would get in and wait till you were done with the day. Then he would walk you home. Sometimes, he would help with stuff, but most times, you would make him sit down and bring him tonnes of food you prepared just for him.
"You train so hard. Don't want to burn these muscles. Eat and rest."
You weren't stupid. You knew he had nothing to do with where you were living. Yet he still chose to go out of his way, walk you home, and wait until you got in. He was taking care of you. So you wanted to take care of him too.
It felt strange to Bucky. Nobody made sure if he was eating well enough, drinking enough water, and resting enough. Nobody ever did. Everybody treated him like he was a machine. Like he He needed nothing.
Then there you were. Feeding him with delicious food. Letting him relax. Laughing at his jokes. Your hands grazing softly. It was all foreign to him, but very welcome. And he was getting attached. He knew it. How could he not?
He had the sweetest and most loving person on the planet, showing him attention and care.
Bucky counted the minutes until he could be with you. Until he could walk you home, it would be just the two of you. You did most of the talking, telling him about your day or an interesting story you heard. He would tell you briefly about his day.
He loved listening to you. Every detail you shared with him. You were the first in his life to be carefree around him other than his family. You didn't let his stiff demeanour affect your friendly one.
The extra time he spent back to his place from yours didn't bother him in the slightest. He found it reassuring that he knew for sure you were safe at home. It was all worth it.
Every single one of Bucky's friends knew what was happening from the moment he asked to postpone a match to go somewhere with you when you're repairing the restaurant. And it became so clear when he stopped hanging out at Natasha's bar after matches, claiming he was tired. But, in truth, he only wanted to be with you. And the days he knew he couldn't turn it down, especially after a grand victory, he would be glued to his phone until you texted him that you were home. Then he may start celebrating.
Bucky almost punched Steve in the face when he brought up inviting you to one of the matches, or at least to hang out with the whole team at Natasha's bar. Bucky wanted you nowhere near this world. He couldn't imagine you watching him while he was fighting. You would never look at him again. Yes, you were kind, but in the ring, he was a beast. You didn't deserve to see how bad he could be.
That's why he never acted on his feelings for you. He knew he was falling for you. He knew from the start. But you deserved better. So much better.
Your radiant nature had no place near him.
He even tried to stop seeing you, feeling guilty for ever getting close to you. But he failed miserably. You gave him something nobody did. A light in the darkness.
So he bottled it and felt grateful that you even let him be your friend. Or whatever you were.
Before a fact came crushing. You were single.
The days following matches were usually very slow. So he left earlier than usual just to come and wait for you. As long as you wanted. He had a bandage on his forehead and a compression bandage around his hand.
Sometimes you forget what his job was. Until he shows up bruised and bandaged like this. You knew he was strong enough to handle himself. He was the best in the game. But you couldn't help the twinge of your heart at the thought of him hurt.
So you prepared extra food and drinks for him. Once it was evening, you kept your best table for him. You even brought the air freshener with the scent; he commented once that he liked it. Everything to help him relax.
You kept telling yourself you were only doing this because he liked to help everyone. But you knew it was very different. He was very different.
So when he stepped in, your big smile got bigger.
You tried to come and talk with him whenever you could, but it was a busy day. He had no problem. He enjoyed watching you work. You were so dedicated and smart. He wanted you to be the most successful chef and owner in the world.
But maybe he shouldn't have been watching. He should have paid attention to anything else. So he wouldn't have seen the man who had been flirting with you since he walked in.
It was taking everything in Bucky to not get up and throw the guy away. But he heard it. Your answer to his question "Yes, I'm single." And he was reminded of the cruelty of the world. You weren't his. He shouldn't be jealous. He shouldn't have been biting the inside of his mouth when the guy tried to touch your hand as you handed him his bill.
And he most definitely shouldn't be feeling like crying and burning down the world when the guy asked you out and left his number.
Wasn't that what he wanted? For you to have better than him. To have someone who wasn't surrounded by blood and pain. Someone who wouldn't defile your glimmer That guy looked decent enough. Maybe that was your chance to find love.
However, he wanted to tear that paper to pieces. He wanted to punch the guy for asking his girl. But you weren't his girl.
Bucky was conflicted by his emotions. He didn't know what to feel or how to think. So he did the thing he was the best at. He stayed silent.
You noticed right away the change in his mood. He wasn't the most talkative person, but this silence was different. He looked like he was somewhere else. Somewhere, that wasn't so nice.
"Are you sure that you are fine?" You asked as you came to a stop in front of your building.
You only got a nod as an answer.
"You know you can tell me anything. I'm always going to be here."
Your words finally made him look at you after you left the restaurant.
"You are?" His hesitant tone made you frown.
"Of course." You answered very quickly.
"Are you going to go out with this guy?" It was quiet; you almost missed it, but you didn't.
Bucky didn't know what happened. He promised himself he wouldn't bring it up. It had nothing to do with him. But he couldn't. It fell from him.
"Do you want me to?" Your reply was something he didn't expect at all.
You couldn't say you weren't disappointed when Bucky did nothing when the guy started flirting with you. You didn't know what you wanted him to do. But you wanted him to do something.
Instinctively, Bucky moved closer to you, standing right in front of you.
"No, I don't want to."
"Tell me why I shouldn't go out with him."
The space between the two of you was almost nonexistent. You were so close to each other. His blue eyes piercing into yours. His eyes were filled with something so warm that you couldn't quite figure it out.
Bucky didn't know how to answer your question. Why didn't he want you to go out with the guy? Well, he didn't want you to go out with any guy. So he threw caution to the wind and followed his heart.
You almost tripped, but his hands on your waist steadied you. The feeling of his lips on yours was something out of the world. His lips were a bit bruised, but they were soft. It was all so good that your mind stopped working.
Bucky was about to pull away and apologise profoundly when you didn't kiss him back. As he was about to move, your hands wrapped themselves around his neck, pulling him closer to you and kissing him.
The kiss was gentle, and it was filled with emotions. Loving ones. It sent electricity through your bodies. It spread warmth all over you.
Your need for oxygen made you break the kiss, hands still around each other, eyes only looking at each other.
"I thought you hated me."
"Never did. Not for a second, princess."
Bucky's lips smashed against yours once again. And it was like every piece was falling into its place. The puzzle was completed. The rainbow after the rain
You were the shining star in Bucky's dark sky. He may not deserve you, but he was going to do everything in his power to get you to shine more.
Because you were made for each other.
#beefy bucky#beefy!bucky x reader#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes x female reader#james buchanan barnes#boxer bucky#Boxer Bucky x reader#Boxer Bucky x female reader#protective!bucky#grumpy sunshine trope#grumpy vs sunshine#enemies to lovers#chef reader#bucky barnes au#james bucky barnes#bucky barnes one shot#bucky fanfic#bucky au#bucky x female reader#sam wilson#steve rogers#natasha romanoff#mcu au#taylor swift songs#miss americana & the heartbreak prince
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can you do a steve smut enemies to lovers related?
Thank you for the request! I actually had one ready to post this evening! Here we go :)
Bitter edges of Steve
After a disastrous mission Steve and you finally confront the tension between each other.
TW- not really any, slight smut, angst.
The door slammed shut behind you, rattling the rusted hinges. You barely had time to take a breath before Steve Rogers stormed in after you, his boots heavy on the concrete floor. His face was a mask of barely contained rage, his blue eyes sharp enough to cut.
âWhat the hell was that?â he snapped, his voice low and dangerous, the kind of tone that made lesser men cower. But not you.
You turned to face him, matching his glare with one of your own. âIt was me getting the job done, Rogers. Someone had to, and you sure as hell werenât stepping up.â
His laugh was cold, humorless. âStepping up? You mean disobeying orders, blowing our cover, and nearly getting yourself killed? Thatâs what you call stepping up?â
âYou hesitated,â you shot back, refusing to back down even as he advanced toward you. âYou always hesitate. I did what had to be done, and youâre pissed because you didnât get to play the hero this time.â
He closed the distance between you in a flash, his jaw tight and his fists clenched at his sides. âYou think this is about my ego?â he snarled, his voice dripping with contempt. âThis is about you being a reckless, insufferable pain in my ass who canât follow orders to save their life.â
âI donât follow your orders,â you spat, stepping closer to him despite the warning in his eyes. âAnd Iâm not your responsibility, so stop acting like you care.â
He barked out a sharp, bitter laugh, his head shaking as if he couldnât believe what he was hearing. âCare? You think I care about you?â His words were a knife to the gut, sharp and cruel. âYouâre nothing but a liability. A thorn in my side I shouldâve dealt with a long time ago.â
The venom in his voice made your chest ache, but you refused to let him see it. You squared your shoulders, meeting his fury with your own. âThen why donât you?â you challenged, your voice shaking with barely restrained anger. âWhy donât you deal with me, Steve? Why do you keep coming after me, cleaning up my messes? If Iâm such a liability, why the hell are you still here?â
For a moment, he just stared at you, his chest rising and falling with the force of his breathing. Then, without warning, he grabbed your arm and yanked you forward, his face inches from yours.
âYou want to know why?â he growled, his voice low and rough. âBecause you drive me insane. Because every time I look at you, I want to throw you against a wall andââ He stopped himself, his jaw clenching as he tried to rein in his temper.
âDo it,â you whispered, your voice trembling, though not from fear.
His eyes darkened, his grip on your arm tightening. âYou have no idea what youâre asking for.â
âDonât I?â you shot back, your breath hitching as his body pressed against yours, backing you into the wall.
For a second, you thought he might actually walk away, leave you there to stew in the silence. But then his lips crashed against yours, rough and demanding, his hands gripping your waist with bruising force. The kiss was a battleâhot, messy, and unrelenting, years of pent-up frustration and anger spilling out all at once.
âStill think I donât care?â he muttered against your lips, his voice a dangerous growl.
You didnât answer. Instead, you kissed him back just as fiercely, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer. His hands roamed your body, possessive and unyielding, leaving a trail of heat in their wake.
When he pulled back, his eyes burned into yours, a mixture of anger and something darker, something that made your knees weak. âYou make me crazy,â he said, his voice hoarse. âYou make me want things I shouldnât want, make me feel things I shouldnât feel. I hate it. I hate you.â
âGood,â you breathed, your nails digging into his shoulders. âBecause I hate you too.â
His lips curled into a dark, almost cruel smile. âProve it.â
Before you could respond, he was kissing you again, his mouth hot and relentless as his hands slid beneath your shirt. He lifted you effortlessly, pinning you against the wall as his lips trailed down your neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin there.
âSay it,â he demanded, his voice rough as his hands gripped your thighs, holding you firmly in place. âSay you hate me.â
âI hate you,â you gasped, though your voice trembled with need.
He laughed softly, the sound dripping with satisfaction. âLiar.â
His hand slid higher, his touch rough and unrelenting, and you couldnât hold back the moan that escaped your lips. His mouth found yours again, swallowing your gasps as he pressed himself harder against you, the line between hate and desire blurring until it was impossible to tell where one ended and the other began.
The rest of the world faded away as you surrendered to him, the weight of your shared anger and frustration dissolving into something raw and primal. This was no fairytale, no perfect resolutionâbut in that moment, with his body pressed against yours and his lips claiming every inch of you, it was enough.
For now, it was enough.
#steve rogers x#Steve rogers#steve rogers x reader#enemy Steve rogers#captain America#cap#marvel smut#marvel#steve rogers x y/n#steve rogers x you#Steve rogers au#Steve rogers fic#captain America fic#captain America au#enemies to lovers fic#captain america x female reader#Steve rogers fanfiction#cap x fanfic#steve rogers captain america
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Ro Roll Masterlist
MCU MASTERLIST | STEVE ROGERS MASTERLIST
It is my BESTIE'S BIRTHDAY and I have done something silly and outrageous. You see, @ronearoundblindly LOVES the song Never Gonna Give You Up. So I decided to write her 7 stories, one for each of the syllables in that first phrase.
It's a celebration of friendship, of blatant ridiculousness, and most of all, the characters we both know and love! Thanks for coming along!!
NEw Nomad Steve/nurse!fReader first kiss
adVERsarial Bucky/mechanic!fReader soulmate AU
draGONfly MCU Steve/wizard!fReader fantasy AU
banaNA Steve/f!Reader established relationship smut
forGIVEn CEO!Steve/f!Reader fluffy meet cute
joYOUs CEO!Steve/f!Reader smutty romance (part III)
sUPine Bucky/mechanic!fReader (Adversarial Part II)
It's been an honor and a delight being your friend!
#Bestie Wars: I win because I have you#steve rogers x f!reader#bucky barnes x f!reader#steve rogers x reader#bucky barnes x reader#captain america x reader#captain america x f!reader#nomad steve x reader#nomad steve x f!reader#romance#smut#enemies to lovers#soulmate au#fantasy au#established relationship#steve rogers smut#bucky barnes smut
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Maneater (Masterlist)
pairing ⊠Ex!Bucky Barnes x Promiscuous!Reader (College AU)
series warnings ⊠drinking, asshole!Bucky, enemies to lovers, exes to lovers, love triangle, smut, slut shaming, cursing
synopsis ⊠An enemies to lovers story.
word count ⊠9k
a/n ⊠updates every night at 12 a.m. (edt)
Prologue (April 4, 2023)
Chapter 1 (April 5, 2023)
Chapter 2 (April 6, 2023)
Chapter 3 (April 7, 2023)
Chapter 4 (April 8, 2023)
Chapter 5 (April 9, 2023)
Chapter 6 (April 10, 2023)
Chapter 7 (April 11, 2023)
Chapter 8 (April 12, 2023)
Chapter 9 (April 13, 2023)
#bucky x reader#bucky barnes x reader#steve rogers x reader#steve x reader#college au#enemies to lovers#exes to lovers#love triangle#angst#bucky barnes smut#steve rogers smut
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Story idea!
@jamneuromain are working on a little story (it was mostly her amazing idea that we continued to vent about till it became a wip) but we need a title for it! We have come up with some ideas. And itâs up to you which will be the final title!
All you need to know about the story: enemies to lovers, misunderstandings, injuries and amnesia!
Okay, okay, hereâs also the real summary:
This is not how you envisioned your day: Waking up at a hospital with a head injury, surrounded by strange people, and of course, you are desperate to go home.
Wait, where is your home? And more importantly, who are you??
Luckily, you have a dutiful (and handsome) fiance who expresses his regret and worry that you fell. On your head. Thus, all your memories are gone.
Amnesia is a bad thing, isn't it?
Too bad you didnât remember you never had a fiancĂŠ.
Now to the titles
#steve rogers#steve rogers x reader#captain hydra#veras venting#steve rogers fanfiction#steve rogers fluff#flood my inbox#steve rogers x y/n#steve rogers x female reader#steve rogers fic#steve rogers x you#steve rogers au#steve rogers angst#another wip????#enemies to lovers
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Intertwined - Masterlist
Series Plot: You and Loki are bound together as soulmates through the red string of fate. Even though he's a villain, you are tied by destiny. You are also given poems that are recited for your ears only. They're there to help you figure out who your connected with along the way.
Pairing: Loki x Female Reader (Eventually) Steve Rogers x Female Reader (For some time)
Warnings: Smut (Not the best at it but I am trying), language, violence (Maybe more warnings later on but will add to this later on so keep checking when a new part comes out)
Part 1: Destiny's a b**ch
Part 2: Unspoken truth
Part 3: Unplanned visits
Part 4: You'll always just be a villain
Part 5: The last of it
Part 6: Just the beginning for us
#loki x y/n#loki x you#loki x reader#loki odinson#love triangle#x reader#red string of fate#romance#long reads#loki x female reader smut#steve rogers#loki fanfic#fanfic#steve rodgers x reader#friends w/ benfits au#enemies to lovers#soulmates
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<<requests are currently open. feel free to use any of these prompts or ur own!>>
* = smut, 18+ only, minors DNI
what's it gonna take?* (short series) - he vows to keep his distance, tells himself it's wrongâyou're too new, too young, too goodâand he's your commanding officer. but whichever way he bends the truth, he just can't seem to keep you away.
underneath the tree (one shot) - a fluffy holiday special.
leave me with nothing when I come down* (one shot) - the Almighty Captain America, laid to waste by your bare hands and pussy. now wouldnât that make for a nice headline.
Apartment #3* (series) - she's strictly ordered to keep her distanceâno personal contact besides the absolutely necessary. the only issue? her new target/neighbor is none other than Captain America.
Damage Control* (series) - working under SHIELDâs Damage Control division, she was used to handling shitty situations: wrecked buildings, stranded helicarriers, and alien hostages, to name a few. but a one-night stand with Captain America? definitely not one of âem.
(cap)puccino, w/ milk and sugar (short series) - running a tiny bakery+cafe offers little surprises to a creature of habit like her. that is, until Captain America walks in one day asking for a coffee recommendation.
strawberries & cream* (one shot) - when steve finds you seeking late-night solace in a tub of strawberry ice cream, you decide you want to indulge yourself in more ways than one.
call me crazy, hold me down* (one shot) - you met ransom in college, working as harlan's intern. when he sees you again 10 years later, this time with an engagement ring on your hand, heâs hell-bent on finding out more. he's always had a way of getting under your skin, but this time, itâs different. times have changedâand so have you.
lavender haze* (one shot) - after a family dinner goes south, ransom tries to make it up to you.
Headcanons - Soft, Spooky w/ Steve+Andy+Frank+Ransom - Tipsy, Smutty w/ Pt. 1: Steve+Frank*
#mcu#steve rogers#captain america#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers x you#steve rogers fanfiction#steve rogers fanfic#steve rogers fic#steve rogers au#steve rogers smut#captain america x reader#captain america x you#captain america smut#avengers x reader#ransom drysdale#ransom drysdale x you#ransom drysdale smut#enemies to friends to lovers#chris evans fic#bucky barnes#sam wilson#angst#smut#romance#fluff#tony stark#avengers#avengers endgame#masterlist
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FAVORITE STUCKY FICS | 32/100
series Niccolò Machiavelli's The Politician by @spacerenegades & Deisderium
[Enemies to Lovers, 165 981 words, Explicit]
Summary:
Okay, so the real problem is that you shouldnât fuck your arch-rival, political enemy, and the person you loathe the most in the world where you work. Or like, at least, you shouldnât keep doing that.
But okay, the thing that Descartes or whoever didnât know was that Steve really tries, but Bucky Barnes has a mouth that should probably constitute an eighth sin or something.
Jesus fucking Christ, Samâs going to kill him.
(orâSteveâs best friend is the U.S. Constitution and he canât seem to stop fucking a hot Republican. They shouldnât fall in love, but somehow they do. Thatâs it, thatâs the fic.)
more fics
#100stucky#stucky#stevebucky#stevebucky au#steve rogers x bucky barnes#steve x bucky#stucky fic#stucky fanfiction#stucky fanfic#stucky fic rec#my recs#steve and bucky#steve rogers#bucky barnes#fic rec#james buchanan barnes#enemies to lovers#hate sex#politics#smut#angst#angst with a happy ending#moodboard#marvel#marvel fic#mcu
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Steve retires from being an Avengers and becomes a farmer. He buys a farm for suspiciously cheap. An issue with the neighbors supposedly? Steve not going to be intimidated. Steve gets some chickens and is very protective of his flock.
One day, one of his neighbor's goats breaks in and tries to harass his chickens⌠Only to find Steve's chickens fight back. The goat runs⌠right into Steve's grip. He goes to return it to the neighbor⌠and recognizes the man from SHIELD's wanted list.
But the man is kind of attractive⌠and Steve was retired andâŚ
For the: ⌠@stuckybingo Round 6 - Free Space [N3] (Card: SB6035)
Word Count: N/a - Moodboard Title: Goats and Chickens Rating: Gen Universe: Marvel Cinematic Universe Pairings: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers Characters: Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes Warnings: Guns Major Tags: Farm AU, Canon Divergence AU, Hurt/Comfort, Pining, Getting Together, Enemies to Lovers, First Meetings, Developing Relationship, Goats, Chickens, Retired Steve Rogers, Tired Steve Rogers, Hurt Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Farmer Steve Rogers, Protective Steve Rogers, Modern Bucky Barnes, Retired Bucky Barnes, Assassin Bucky Barnes, Farmer Bucky Barnes, Grumpy Bucky Barnes, Shrunkyclunks, Short-Haired Bucky Barnes ~ Summery: Steve retires from being an Avengers and becomes a farmer. He buys a farm for suspiciously cheap. An issue with the neighbors supposedly? Steve not going to be intimidated. Steve gets some chickens and is very protective of his flock.
One day, one of his neighbor's goats breaks in and tries to harass his chickens⌠Only to find Steve's chickens fight back. The goat runs⌠right into Steve's grip. He goes to return it to the neighbor⌠and recognizes the man from SHIELD's wanted list.
But the man is kind of attractive⌠and Steve was retired andâŚ
#stuckybingo#Steve Rogers#Captain America#Bucky Barnes#Winter Solder#Stucky#Shrunkyclunks#Marvel#Marvel Cinematic Universe#Guns.#Farm AU#Canon Divergence AU#Hurt/Comfort#Pining#Getting Together#Enemies to Lovers#First Meetings#Developing Relationship#Retired Steve Rogers#Hurt Steve Rogers#Steve Rogers Needs a Hug#Farmer Steve Rogers#Protective Steve Rogers#Modern Bucky Barnes#Retired Bucky Barnes#Assassin Bucky Barnes#Farmer Bucky Barnes#Grumpy Bucky Barnes#Short-Haired Bucky Barnes#DarthBloodOrange
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đ"Temporary Custody"
Rating: Explicit
Pairing: Steve x ofc x Bucky; Steve x Bucky
Word Count: 4861
Tags: Dom/sub, bdsm au, dom Bucky, sub reader, hurt/comfort, enemies to lovers, gay sex'n'stuff, straight sex'n'stuff, Steve being a literal Golden Retriever, mental health issues, dub-con, forced submission, referenced childhood abuse and resultant mental health issues, bakery au, m/f/m, gentle domination, total power exchange
Summary: The stigma and shame of being a submissive has kept Mary unfulfilled and in the closet her whole life, until an inciting incident leads to Bucky and Steve taking her in and giving her everything she was always too afraid to ask for.
Trigger warnings: This story contains themes of eating disordered behavior, body image issues, childhood abuse, self-harm, mental illness, and alcohol abuse.
Wait! I haven't read an earlier chapter of this fic! Story Masterpost
11. Palmiers
Bucky
Because heâs on the far end of the spectrum, Buckyâs sex drive is affected by his condition. He wakes up hard almost every morning of his life, and Steve doesnât need much encouragement to get himself worked up into the same state very quickly. Mutual morning jerk offs were always bound to become part of their routine.
They take a shower and stand toe to toe, hands sliding and groping all over each othersâ slick bodies, pulling on their cocks until both of them are shooting off against each otherâs bellies. The water washes it away, and Steve gives him a deep, happy kiss. âMmm. Morninâ.â
âBlegch. Go brush your teeth, you heathen.â
Steve laughs and gets out of the shower. Bucky stays in for a few minutes longer, adjusting the spray to its hardest setting and letting the hot water beat down on his back and shoulders. He sighs and stretches his neck this way and that, trying to get his vertebrae to pop, but his muscles are all too tight, and the stretching just seems to make it worse. Bucky drops his head in defeat. In all honesty, his shoulders and neck and back are all pretty fucked after months of near-constant use of his prosthetic.
Steveâs right: he doesnât usually wear it this much. And heâs also right that Buckyâs been wearing it all day every day because he wants to feel powerful and able bodied in front of Mary. As per usual, Steve is the first one to have noticed what maladaptive behavior pattern heâs doing and why, and pointed it out to him. It really is for the best, Bucky knows. Because he canât sustain wearing the arm all the time anymore. The thing is just too damn heavy.
The engineers who designed it have made tweaks and adjustments over the years. Theyâve done all they can to lighten the load as much as possible, but the thing still weighs over twenty pounds. Twenty pounds doesnât sound like much, but when itâs pulling on the same muscle groups day in and day out, everything in Buckyâs body winds up getting strained and unbalanced. He understands better now, how women fuck up their necks so badly from shouldering their purses (or their tits) around. A little bit of weight makes a big difference.
As a Dom, Bucky may have a tiny problem admitting when he needs help. He has to be in quite a bit of pain, trouble, or both, before heâll ever speak up and allow himself to be vulnerable like that. Itâs an inherent behavior that shrinks have been trying to therapize and medicate out of him since he was a kid, but nothing ever changed it much. Falling in love with Steve helped; Bucky can let himself be more vulnerable around him. But even still, itâs no small thing that he regularly approaches his husband to ask for help in getting his arm back on correctly (Bucky can do it, but itâs a pain in the ass, getting the mechanism lined up just right before itâll take).Â
He gets out of the shower and dries off, then approaches Steve with the prosthesis. âGimme a hand?âÂ
Steve makes a cheerful noise of acknowledgement around his mouthful of toothpaste, spits and rinses, then takes the arm from Bucky. He lines it up just so, and then Bucky feels the deep shudder of the armâs inner workings coming to life as they recognize their mate. The arm attaches and Steve lets go.Â
âThanks babe.â
âUh huh.âÂ
Itâs as Buckyâs bending over and pulling up his underwear and joggers that a spasm runs through his back and he cries out in a pained, âAh!â
âBabe? Whatâs wrong?â
Gritting his teeth, Bucky slowly stands back up. Heâs able to get his pants up, but when he tests the movement of his neck and shoulders, the pain flares again. It feels like everything between the base of his skull and his mid back is seizing up. âFuck,â he hisses, frustrated. Itâs his day off. Heâd been planning to go to the gym for his long workout.Â
Steve steps up and puts a worried hand on his left shoulder. âBabe? Do you need it off?âÂ
âNo. I need some painkillers and a magnesium tablet,â he grunts, already turning around (full body, because turning his head is a bad idea right now). âFuck.â He starts off for the kitchen.Â
Steve follows along with worried protests, telling him to lay his âstubborn assâ down and heâll get it for him. Bucky ignores him and goes to the kitchen cabinet where they keep their supplement stuff. He winds up yelling again when he tries to reach up and grab the ibuprofen. âFuck!â he says angrily.
âBabe, I said to let me do it,â Steve scolds, his hand back on Buckyâs shoulder. âAnd let me take this off. Itâs hurting you.â
âSteve, back off,â he snaps, angry and waspish from being in pain, and from being frustrated with his own goddamn body.Â
âWhatâs going on?âÂ
Bucky turns his head without thinking, hisses in pain, and then turns himself full-body to face in Maryâs direction. Sheâs standing there looking at the two of them in concern, one hand holding one of those swirly, flaky, crack-cookies that she makes, and the other holding a cup of tea. Her eyes widen at the sight of Buckyâs arm and body, reminding him that this is the first time sheâs seen him without a shirt on. âNothinâ,â Bucky grunts.
âShit,â she says. âAre you guys fighting? Is this a couplesâ fight? Iâll just âŚâ She turns to leave back towards her room.
âWeâre not fighting,â Steve says. âBuckâs just being an ass. He gets that way when heâs in pain.â
Bucky would turn his head to glare at him, but it isnât worth another flair of agony in his shoulder. âIâm fine,â he says, when Mary comes back over. âItâs fine,â he stresses. He opens the pill bottle and dumps three capsules into his palm. âJeez, will everybody stop babying me? I just need a glass of water.âÂ
âIâll get it,â Steve says, causing Bucky to huff once again. âDonât be a jerk, babe.â
âWhy are you in pain?â Mary asks, her eyes tracing all over the left side of Buckyâs scarred up body. âIs it ⌠does your arm hurt?âÂ
âNo. It just fucks up my muscles, sometimes.â
âYour muscles?â
Bucky sighs impatiently. âSteve, do you know where the heating pad is?â
âIâll have to look.â Steve has returned with a glass of water, and Bucky tosses back the handful of pills, wincing at how even the slight motion of raising his arm up makes his trap twinge in protest. âUgh.âÂ
âYou should get a massage,â Mary suggests, and Bucky fights not to lash out at her. She doesnât know that one of his biggest pet peeves in life is having other people tell him what he âshouldâ do.
âMy PT maxed out back in October,â he tells her. âDoesnât renew again till January.â
Steve takes the water glass from him once heâs done. âGo lie face down on the bed,â he murmurs. âIâll find the heating pad.â
âWell I could do it,â Mary blurts out. Both Bucky and Steve pause and look at her. She looks surprised, too, as though she hadnât been planning to say the words until they were out of her mouth, and now doesnât know how to continue âUm, that is ..." she gestures weakly with her cookie. âI just meant I know how to, if you wanted.â Eventually her cheeks color and she looks away. âErm, Nevermind.â
âWait,â Steve says. When Mary turns back, heâs looking at her earnestly, and Bucky thinks, Oh no. âYou know how to give a back massage? Like a real one?â
âYeah. My, ah, my ex always had neck problems, so.â She shrugs, looking embarrassed. âI took a class at the community college, learned the basics.â
Bucky blinks. Thatâs the subbiest fucking thing heâs ever heard. âYou did this for the husband that beat you?â he drawls, immediately regretting it because it comes out sounding way more derogatory than he intends it to. âSorry. I just ⌠actually would pay good money for a massage right now. If you know how to do it.âÂ
Mary bites her lip, looking deliciously shy and sweet. Buckyâs mood sours as he realizes that she doesnât really want to. Heâs about to let her off the hook, but then some unconscious movement he makes without meaning to has him flinching in pain again. âSheezus,â he complains.Â
âItâs not usually this bad,â Steve worries.
âI mustâa slept on it wrong.â
Mary nods, as if this settles it. âOkay. Well, go in the bedroom and tie your hair up so it's out of the way.â She turns to Steve, all but dismissing Bucky now that sheâs got a task to complete. Bucky fights back an amused smirk as he heads towards the bedroom, and he hears Mary bossing Steve around, telling him she needs dry oil, the heating pad, towels, and all the seat cushions off the couch.Â
The fuck does she need those for? Bucky thinks as he pads back into his and Steveâs room.
He finds out a moment later, when Mary and Steve come in with a couch cushion each, and Steve goes back out to get another. They lay them in a line on the bed, and Mary directs Bucky to lie on top of them, with his body placed just so and his face down just there, and ⌠Oh. He gets it.
Sheâs left space between the cushion under Buckyâs chest, and the next cushion up, which supports his forehead. The gap creates a drop through for his faceâlike a massage table. And when she shapes the towel into a donut shape and sticks it there, it's pretty much perfect.
âOh,â Bucky says, as heâs settling into place. âOh, thatâs actually really smart.â He canât see Mary from his position, but somehow he senses her preening over the praise anyway. Steve returns from the bathroom with the heating pad and oil. âFound this stuffed in the back of the linen closet. I donât know what âjojobaâ is, but, um ⌠itâs either that or the virgin olive out in the pantry.â
âDo not use that,â Bucky grumbles. âShitâs expensive, and I donât wanna smell like garlic truffle for the next three days.â
âThatâll work fine.â Mary is totally task focused, ignoring Buckyâs surliness and telling Steve to apply the heating pad across Buckyâs shoulders and neck for thirty minutes before they get started.
âThirty minutes?!â Bucky complains, unable to see anything but the top of the bedcovers as the two of them go out into the hallway.Â
âJust relax, Babe,â Steve says (and if Bucky isnât mistaken, he sounds amused). âTake a nap.â
âI just woke up!â He scoffs at the bedspread when the door quietly âsnicksâ shut and he realizes that heâs been abandoned. âWell okay then,â he mutters petulantly. Steve is right: he does turn into an ass when heâs in pain. Hmm. Maybe he should work on that.
Steve
Steve turns the tv onto a low volume so they can talk without Bucky hearing. âSorry about him,â he says. âHeâs a humongous jerk whenever heâs feeling crummy.â
âYou mean itâs not just all the time?â Mary drawls.
âHeâs ⌠just one of those people you have to learn to love before you like them.â Mary raises an eyebrow, and Steve winces. âEr, that sounded harsh. Donât tell him I said that.â
She twists her lips and looks down. âYour secretâs safe with me.âÂ
âThanks, Hon. You want more tea?âÂ
âYes please. Thereâs more of the palmiers in a baggie next to the coffee pot, if you want any.âÂ
âHeck yeah, I love those things.â Steve had thought the prepackaged ones at Starbucks were good, hadnât even realized that they werenât supposed to be all stale and hard like that. Just another commercialized pastry that Maryâs gone and ruined him for. He goes into the kitchen and makes himself coffee and Mary tea, knowing by now how she takes it.
She thanks him silently as he returns and joins her on the couch, both of them sitting close to one another on the chaise, since itâs the only part of the couch that still has its cushion.
"Palmier is French. Know what else they call these?" Mary asks.
Steve's lips quirk. Mary's always got these little facts she knows about the origins of this pastry or that. It's cute. Endearing. "No," he plays along. "What?"
"Elephant ears, because of the shape, see?"
"Oh yeah. Huh. That's neat."
She goes back to eating and sipping at her teacup, and after a moment of unrequited, affectionate staring, Steve looks away. "Elephant ears," he murmurs, trying not to be mopey. "That's funny."
They split the palmiers between them, and aside from the sounds of them munching cookies and sipping their drinks, itâs quiet for a long time. Steve made both the tea and the coffee very hot, so they at least have the excuse of cradling and blowing on their steaming mugs to keep the silence from being too awkward. Mary keeps her eyes trained forward, but Steve gets the sense that she isnât really paying attention to the home renovation program thatâs playing on the tv. His suspicions are confirmed when she eventually asks,
âSo: His arm.â
Steve inhales slowly. âYeah. His arm.â
âWhat happened?â
Steve frowns. He can tell by her inflection that sheâs asking not just about the arm, but about the state of Buckyâs entire left side from shoulder to hip. âWe were in the army,â he confides. âDeployed overseas. I made captain young, but he was a specialist in the field: a sniper. So I wasnât put into the same types of situations as he was. His convoy got blown up by an IED. And when the dust settled âŚâ He shrugs. âNo more arm.â
âOh.â Mary sits there and absorbs that information. âI guess I kind of figured it was something like that. I mean what else is there, besides like, a shark attack or something?â
Steveâs mouth twitches. Shark attack, ha. Heâll have to suggest that one to Buck. Might be fun to lie about, the next time a stranger asks. âNaw, just a boring old bomb. And afterwards, well. It was a long road for him, after. He didnât have the arm when I met him.â
Mary turns her head, surprised. âOh. You two didnât meet in the army?â
âNo, after. I met him at the V.A., when he was already angry, hurt, and didnât want to be where he was.â Steve looks over and gives her a meaningful look. âKind of like when I first met you.âÂ
Her eyes widen, and then her face colors and she looks away again, pulling her knees up and hunkering over her mug. âWas I really that bad?â she mumbles.
â... You were pretty bad, Honey.â
She frowns and doesnât say anything, and Steve decides to leave it alone. âSo yeah, his arm. He got into a program for experimental cybernetics. It was a big gamble. Back then, he still had his arm down to nearly the elbow, which meant he could use a lot of the different types of prostheses they had on the market. The less arm you have, the less they can do for you. The surgeries for the implant required removal all the way up to and including his left shoulder blade. So if he went through with it and the procedures didnât work out, heâd be left with less function than he started with.â
âJeez.â
âHm, yeah. It was a risk.â Steve stares across the living room as he remembers all of the hospital stays and surgeries and revisions and therapy appointments. âLuckily it worked out. They replaced some bones with metal supports, some of his natural muscle with enhanced synthetic tissue. His body didnât reject any of the junk they were putting in him, which was the biggest worry. All in all, it took five surgeries over the course of three years, and then a shit ton of physiotherapy. Buck says it was worth it, now, but it wasnât a walk in the park when it was happening, Iâll tell you that.â
Beside him, Mary makes a sad little noise in her throat. âBut ⌠all that and it still gives him pain?â
âYeah. He gets PT for it, but like he said; it never winds up lasting the full year. I force him to my veterans' support group when I can, but heâs gotta be in a really charitable mood for that.â Steve snorts humorlessly. âHeâs always hated being disabled. It doesnât jive with his DPD. You know that stereotype about men: never wanting to stop and ask for directions?âÂ
âYeah.â
"Well it's true. And then you take a guy whoâs as far on the spectrum as Bucky is, and itâs ten times worse.â He widens his eyes in emphasis and gets a little giggle out of Mary for it, which makes him warm with pride. He pulls his feet up onto the couch next to Maryâs and nudges her knee with his. âJust fair warning: Heâs the worst patient Iâve ever seen. So donât take it personally if heâs grumpy at you in there.â
Mary frowns and looks away. âWell, I mean I donât have to do this. If he doesnât want to.â
âPretty sure he wants to. And he needs help with it, whether his stubborn ass wants to admit it or not.â
She nods, though she still doesnât look confident. âItâs been over a year since I worked on anybody âŚâ
âWell then thisâll be good practice for you, wonât it?â Steve nudges her again in encouragement and tells her to finish up her tea: He doesnât expect Buckyâll lie around patiently for much longer.
(âOh, and Hon, maybe donât tell him we were out here talking about him this whole time.â)
(âDuh.â)
In the bedroom, Mary climbs onto the bed next to where Bucky is laid out on the couch cushions. She takes the heating pad off his neck and puts it aside, looking nervously over the broad expanse of his back. âUm âŚâ She reaches for the oil bottle and pumps some into her hands. She spends a long, long time just spreading it between her hands and staring at Bucky, until finally he snaps,
âWhatâs the holdup?âÂ
âBabe, be nice,â Steve warns. âMary? You need anything?â
âUm, no. Itâs just ⌠usually I'd ..." She makes an aborted move, like she's thinking about repositioning herself, but winds up staying where she is. "Right," she mutters to herself. "This'll work fine." She reaches forward like sheâll start rubbing Buckyâs back, hesitates, shuffles closer to his side, then sets her hands on his shoulders.
Bucky doesnât so much as twitch, but heâs not used to new people touching him, and Steve would bet money that his eyes are clenched shut right now.
âOkay,â Mary warns. âI havenât done this in awhile, so donât get your hopes up for a miracle or anything.â
âAnythingâll be better than what I can do myself,â Bucky says gruffly, voice somewhat muffled by the cushions. âJust go to town. You canât hurt me any worse.â
Steve can see Maryâs face, and he knows by now what she looks like when sheâs flustered. Awkwardly, he steps to the side, heading for the door. âIâll just go watch someââ
âNo!â Mary squeaks, and when Steve turns back around sheâs looking at him with wide eyes. âDonât leave,â she says, like being left alone touching Bucky is the worst possible thing that could happen. Steve doesnât miss how the muscles in Buckyâs arms do tense at hearing her plead for Steve to stay.Â
âUhm, okay. Iâll just ⌠be over here.â He leans back against the dresser, feeling almost painfully awkward. Once again, heâs reminded how Mary has shown absolutely no desire to engage in sexual contact with them. He hopes she doesnât think this is a ploy to force physical contact. She was the one who suggested it, after all.
She starts at the base of Buckyâs skull, rubbing her thumbs in small circles. âAs I go along, try to tell me which areas feel the worst,â she murmurs, and Bucky hums in acknowledgement. Steve watches as she pushes and circles and kneads Buckyâs neck, working down on into his shoulders. Heâs struck by how feminine and tiny her hands look against Buckyâs body ⌠and then has to steer his mind away from the thought of how tiny they might look in other places.
âAh, fuck,â Bucky gasps, when she reaches a certain spot on the left side of his neck.
She freezes. âBad?âÂ
âNngh. Good,â he slurs. âThat whole area from there goinâ down into my back ân all around my shoulder blade is where itâs worst.â
âOkay.â She tentatively presses around in and around the left side of his neck and shoulder. âOh, yeah. It starts right here and goes down.â She slides her hand down the muscle and hums. âOh, I can feel it.â
(Steve tries really hard not to think sexual thoughts.)
âRiiight here? and ⌠here?"
Between the cushions, Buckyâs voice comes out in a series of garbled moans.
âThatâd be a yes,â Steve interprets, and Mary actually shoots him a grin at that. Glad to have cut the tension a bit, he dares to take a few steps closer to the bed. He peers down at what Maryâs doing, the way her fingers dig in at sharp, focused points in some places and rub more gently in others. âItâs your trap thatâs the worst,â she mutters distractedly, feeling around with her hands and staring off into space with the tip of her tongue poking out at the corner of her mouth. Itâs cute. âMmm, but probably your levator scapulae, too. Those tend to get fucked up hand in hand.â
âMmrr.â
âAnd here: your rhomboid.â
âOoh!â
âTender?âÂ
âShuyeahhh,â Bucky grunts, then his breath hitches when she digs into another spot. âOh, yep yep right there. Wasâthat?â
Steve canât help but grin. Bucky sounds like heâs drooling at this point.
âYour trapezius muscle. It's big. Does a lot of work, covers a large area. Probably the main offender.â Mary hums and feels around a little more. âOof, yeah. Youâve got a whole bunch of tension right here.â
âYou can feel it?â Steve asks, fascinated. He can't see anything.
âYeah. Here, gimme your hand.â Steve is taken aback when she grabs his hand and guides his fingers into place, her own smaller hand pressing down. âRiiight there. You feel it?â
Steve swallows thickly. âAh, yeah.â His eyes flick from her hand on his hand on Buckyâs back, up to her face, and back again before she can catch him looking. âY-yeah itâs hard.â He grimaces at his choice of words (If he's not careful, "it" soon will be).
âIâm gonna focus on this one for a few minutes,â Mary tells Bucky. Then you can guide me around to the other bad spots.â
âSounds good,â he slurs. Steve is about to take a step back again, but then Bucky calls out, âHey Babe?â
âYeah?â
âPay attention to what sheâs doinâ. It feels really fuckinâ good.âÂ
âYeah?âÂ
âMmhm. You can learn n' do it next time,â he says dreamily. On his back, Maryâs hands still for the briefest of seconds. âSâgoood.â
Steve nods and comes back to sit on the bed. âOkay,â he agrees, scooting in close and glancing at Mary. Her face looks pinched all of a sudden, her expression stiffened as if in annoyance. âI promise Iâm not as dumb as I look,â he jokes, and watches as her face smooths out and she smiles a little.
âOh! Oh no itâs ⌠itâs okay, I donât mind. Iâll teach you how.â
âDonât mind me, mâjust a teaching tool,â Bucky drawls, and Steve laughs and pats his shoulder.Â
âYeah you are. So shut up and let her teach.â
Bucky grunts and shuts up. Steve looks to Mary for instruction. He can tell sheâs uncomfortable, but she manages to hide it well and keep herself on track. The more he pays attention, the sooner she can get herself out of this and never have to do it again. âReady to learn,â he tells her.
âNow when youâre doing this, you can get more leverage if you straddle his waist.â She says this like itâs a foregone assumption that she would never dare to sit on Buckyâs waist, and Steve is sure she doesnât notice the grumpy huff of breath Bucky gives.
âRight,â Steve says, pained. âOkay, so where are the bad spots again?â
âPut your hand here.â She takes his hand again and places it just to the left of Buckyâs spine at the level of his shoulder blade. âSlide your fingers out. There. Feel that difference? Feel how it changes when you move out to just ⌠there?â She guides his fingers, and Steve nods.Â
âY-yeah.â Mostly, heâs just thinking about how nice Maryâs warm, oiled, tiny hand feels guiding his hand around. âYeah.â
âThe trapâs on top, but there are other muscles underneath of this one, and that differentiation you feel is where the rhomboid is ending and theââ
She keeps talking, and Steve tries to pay attention and learn, he really does. But his mind is a veritable sieve, for how well he retains the information. Itâs all in one ear and out the other, ninety percent of his attention stuck on Maryâs hands on him, guiding him, pressing on his fingers and gliding his touch over Buckyâs skin. Fuck, how did they wind up here?Â
Eventually, having taught Steve the basics, Mary lets him go and works on Buckyâs shoulders for a little while more. For the most part itâs quiet, with Bucky making soft grunts of pain whenever she finds a new cluster of knotted muscle, and sighs of relief once she works them out.Â
Her hands linger on Buckyâs mid back when sheâs done. She doesnât seem to know what to do. âErm. Okay. I think ⌠I think thatâs it.â
When neither Bucky nor Steve says anything, she retreats on her own, getting off the bed and looking between Buckyâs prone form and Steveâs sorrowful expression. âSo, kay. You can get up, if you want. Just move slowly.â
Buckyâs right hand gives her the thumbs up symbol, but the entire rest of his body doesnât move. âThanks Mare. Just give us a second. That was really good. Thank you. Thanks for teaching Steve.â
Itâs the âThanks for teaching Steveâ that seems to do it. Maryâs expression firms up and she nods curtly, leaving the room and shutting the door behind her. Steve stays sitting on the bed next to Bucky in silence for a long minute, then says knowingly, âGot a boner?â
âYep.â
*To anyone who's only ever had store bought, pre-packaged palmiers: I'm so sorry. Along with Madeleines, those should never be eaten more than a few hours max after they've been baked.
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Stucky AU- where Bucky is Steve's bodyguard and he's always in a state of FML because Steve's a lil shit
"...it's so unfair!" Steve complained into his phone.
"I mean, I kinda understand why he did what he did Steve," Natasha- Princess Natalia- his good friend sighed over the line.
"Whose side are you on?" Steve cried indignantly, flopping over onto his back as he lay spread eagled on his ironically King-sized bed, for he was a young prince with many years ahead of him before he could even dream of ascending the throne of Mersondawn.
"I'm just saying," Natasha starts, "you disappeared for a whole two hours and no one knew where you were."
Steve rolls his eyes. "Tony just wanted to show me the new car he'd built..." he mutters childishly.
"Tony? As in Captain Howard Stark's son?"
Steve bites his lip. "Yeah. I mean, Tony's my friend, why would Bucky be so worried?"
"You really aren't beating those dumb blonde allegations are you?" Natasha deadpans.
"Wha- I'm not dumb-" Steve protests.
"He's your bodyguard," Natasha emphasizes, "of course he'd be worried!"
"Ugh... I hate this!" Steve whines.
He could practically hear Natasha pursing her lips at him in disappointment over the phone.
"Look," she says finally, "his job is to watch over you like a hawk-"
"He's more like a falcon," Steve mumbles causing Natasha to clear her throat sternly.
"His job is to watch over you and when you pull this near-weekly disappearing act, you're kinda messing with the guy's bread and butter."
Steve is silent for some time, thinking it over before he whines like a spoiled kid. "My bodyguard hates me."
Natasha chuckles, muttering something in Russian distantly before returning to the call. "He doesn't hate you, Steve. You just need to give the guy a break. And apologize for nearly giving him a heart attack."
Steve swallows nervously, eyeing his locked bedroom doors. "He... told Uncle Fury on me and got the 'OK' to incarcerate me in my room."
"You kinda deserve it," Natasha chirps, totally amused at Steve's despair.
"Again, whose side are you on?" Steve grumbles.
"Alright, I gotta go, Yelena has a friend she wants me to meet so.."
"Who is it?"
"Uh, Kate or something. She looks cool so far."
"Well, have fun then," Steve says and he can't help but feel envious because Natasha is out being free while he has to stay locked in his room.
"Hey, let me know how it goes?"
"Sure," he says before hanging up.
He tosses the phone onto his bed and sits up, arms perched on his sides as he glares at the door begrudgingly. He knows his bodyguard is somewhere out there, just waiting to pounce on him. And despite all of Steve's mighty whining, he's a cub in the face of Bucky's lion. The man had always been scary ever since he became Steve's personal bodyguard. And he was even more terrifying when Steve did something stupid. Like right now.
Bucky creeps up on him like a shadow, stopping him from moving beyond two steps of his quietly opened door.
"I thought I told you to stay in your room, punk?"
"G'ahh!' Steve croaks, blushing at his high pitched shriek and Bucky's annoying nickname for him which he secretly loved. "What the hell Buck?!"
#marvel#ao3#captain america#steve rogers#avengers#tony stark#james bucky barnes#stucky edit#stucky au#stucky fic#natasha romanoff#chris evans#sebastian stan#scarjo#rdj#bodyguard au#enemies to lovers#alternate universe#ao3 fic#fanfiction#fanfic#the bodyguard#catws#catfa#mcu#marvel mcu#whiny#whiny baby#nick fury#samuel l jackson
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To Loathe or To Love
You were a teacher at Winsford Highschool, a science teacher to be exact. You were currently walking to a meeting with your fellow teachers and the schools principal, Principal Coulson. You walked through to crowd of high schoolers going to their classes and made your way through the doors and into the meeting room.
"Hey everyone, is Phil here yet?" You said as you sat down next to Ms. Romanoff and Ms. Maximoff, who you knew as Nat and Wanda.
"No Mr. Hard ass isn't here yet so we can relax for a bit before everyone else gets in." Natasha said as she chuckled at her own name for him.
"Shh, Nat don't call him that out loud he might come in and hear you!" Wanda said, urging her friend to be a bit more cautious of her words.
"Relax Wan, we all know he's usually 4 or 5 minutes late for every meeting he hosts." Nat said rolling her eyes and she spun in her chair.
You giggled and rolled your eyes at your friends antics. Natasha could be so silly at times and Wanda was usually the one who played the mother hen of the group. You definitely wouldn't have it any other way though.
"So Nat..how was the date last night?" You asked her, she had told you and Wanda that she was going out on a date with the art teacher, Steve Rogers, and you hadn't heard anything about the date yet. To say you were curious was an understatement.
"Yeah! Tell us what happened!" Wanda said as you and her scooted your chairs closer to her.
"Ok ok, so basically we had dinner at his loft, which was decorated beautifully may I mention, and it was just so romantic. We talked and ate, and then he turned the lights down low and played some music and we danced and then afterwards when he twirled me he-"
"Hey ladies, Phil here yet cause I was wondering if-"
"NO!" You three said at the same time as the redhead went back to her story.
"And then he kissed me." She whispered and giggled.
"Awwwww how romantic." Wanda said.
"I know ... of course Steve was so romantic he's the freaking art teacher. He probably knew how to set up everything perfectly...like art-!" You said, slightly wishing you had someone doing that for you as well.
"Uhm hi, sorry for interrupting whatever is.. going on here but have any of you ladies seen Phil..or Steve for that matter. I have to ask him something." Said the man you loathed most. James Barnes. A nuisance he was, and idiot, and most importantly..an egotistical know it all, except he knew nothing. Stupid man.
"No, Mr. Barnes. We don't know where Steve or Phil are. Do you think we'd be here talking the period away instead going to them if we did?" You said condescendingly to James.
Nat and Wanda exchanged glances and sat down watching all the drama unfold. Unbeknownst to you your two best friends had been shipping you with the English teacher for quite some time.
But alas, Natasha and Wanda being the foreign languages teachers, you never knew their opinion about you and Bucky due to them always whispering it to each other in Russian or sometimes Sokovian.
"Well sorry y/n, I should've known you wouldn't be able to answer such a simple question in a civil manner." He said in a very irritated tone.
"You know what-" you got up from your seat but before you could continue Natasha put her hand on your shoulder, making you sit back down. You sighed and pulled out your phone so you could message Phil to see where he was. You realized you left your phone on do not disturb so you turned it off and saw you had an email from Phil.
"Guys I got an email from Phil, maybe he changed the meeting location..I'm reading it now..."
Your eyes widened in horror as you read through the message.
Attention all students and staff members, due to the health code violation 1019.1001 -asbestos, which was found in the laboratory, we will all be evacuating the building at approximately 9:50 a.m. Should there be any emergency, please contact school administration immediately. All classes are to be cancelled as well as faculty meetings for the rest of the week. Under no circumstances are any staff members allowed to stay within the premise of the school building. All closed doors and windows will be automatically shut down and locked immediately, and will only be reopened with staff keys.
-Sincerely
Mr. Coulson
"Holy shit!" You said as you ran towards the door and tried to open it.
"What's wrong?!" Bucky, Nat and Wanda all said at the same time.
"Oh my god everyone evacuated the school because of some asbestos in the building and now we're stuck in here." You said panicking as you tried to look for another exit in the room.
"WHAT?!" Natasha yelled.
"Oh my god, today was supposed to be the last day until break...we're gonna be stuck in here for a week?!" Wanda said while she shook Natasha's shoulders.
"Wait- wait a minute, why did y/n get the email late and everyone else left already? Even better question..why didn't any of US get the email?!" Bucky yelled.
"I didn't get it late I had my phone on do not disturb so my notifications wouldn't interrupt my lesson. Do you guys have your phone on do not disturb?" You said.
"Shit..I do." Bucky said.
"I do too." Wanda said.
"Same." Said Natasha as she groaned.
"Well...how the hell do we get outta here?" You said, kind of scared you all would be trapped in this goddamn school the entire break.
"I think the better question would be what the hell are we supposed to do while we're in here." Natasha said as she got up and walked further into the room.
"Nat? Where are you going?" Wanda said as she watched her friend walk away.
"The bathroom, I've been needing to pee for a while now and I can't do it during my damn classes so might as well now." She said as she opened the door to the bathroom and walked in.
"I didn't know there was a bathroom in the meeting room.." Wanda said as she opened her bag and pulled a snack out, she offered you and Bucky some..you both quickly denied.
"I'm going to see if there are any vents in this room." Bucky said as he got up and started looking around.
"What the hell do you want with a vent?" You said confused as hell.
Was he moronic?
"I see my theories of you living under a rock are correct. Haven't you ever seen a James Bond movie?" He said as he kept looking around.
"What the fuck does James Band have to do with anything?" You said getting irritated.
"Ok first of all, it's James BOND you abomination to fucking society. Second of all, if you've ever seen any of his movies, which I'm now learning you haven't, you'd know that when he was stuck in a room like we are he found a vent and climbed through it, which then led him to the door."
So he was moronic..
"You dumbass, you think the five by four vents in this room are gonna be big enough for one of us to fit in it? Hell, even I couldn't squeeze through one of those, and I'm the smallest out of all of us here." You said.
"Obviously I'm looking for a bigger one you idiot! Every room in this building is required to have a ventilation system that's at least 64 square inches. At least I think the bathrooms do.." he said as he scratched his head.
"Great..so we'll just go to the bathrooms then and-" You looked around the room and realized just how screwed you and Bucky were.
"Wanda and Nat are in the bathroom.."
"So? What's the big deal..let's the ladies relieve themselves.. Jesus." Bucky said chuckling at the odd amount of worriedness in your statement.
"Oh my god you're stupider than I thought, the email said that if the doors are locked then they lock permanently, which will include bathroom doors." You said, enunciating the last five words in your sentence.
This entire day was just turning out to be a shit show..
"Jesus Christ, now they're stuck in there. You think we can maybe break the lock?" Bucky said, worried that Nat and Wanda may be stuck in there for a whole week. He may not have liked you, because he really loved you, but he didn't want them to be stuck there the entire time.
Your phone started ringing and it was Natasha.
"Yeah yeah, before you say anything I know. You're stuck. We're trying to figure out- well I'm trying to figure out how to get you out of there. Idiot over here is just make dumb suggestions."
Bucky glared out you and you chuckled at the little pout on his face. It was cute..as much as you hated to admit it.
"Alright well, just get us outta here..Wanda's getting anxious without her snacks..and I really don't wanna deal with Wanda when she doesn't have snacks."
"Yeah yeah, don't worry we'll find a way to get you out sooner..or later.." you mumbled the last part of that statement and hung up the phone.
"That's heavy duty metal surrounding the door knob, I don't think so. Besides, we have to find another way to get out of here now..seeing as the whole ventilation thing won't work." You said, answering Bucky's previous questions before Natasha had rung you.
You we're contemplating if you should try and hit the lock with the fire extinguisher that was in the corner of the room.
"What do you mean? I thought we were gonna go to the bathroom and get to the ventilation system."
"Wanda and Nat are in the bathroom idiot. And. It's. Locked. Were you not here for like half of our conversation?"
"There's a men's bathroom too dumbass." He said as if it were obvious
"No there isn't, not in the meeting room anyway. It's just one big ass bathroom for every adult." You said
"That's dumb.." he said slightly annoyed that nothing was going right today.
You groaned and took a seat in one of the chairs, your head in your hands. You heard Bucky sigh and he took a seat next to you as well. You felt a large hand on your back, Bucky's hand, he rubbed your back up and down.
"We won't be here forever you know..it'll be ok." He said with a genuine smile..which quickly turned into a smirk as he said his next sentence.
"Besides, you'll get to be with my handsome face for the rest of the week." He said, laughing as you started to not so playfully smacking his arms.
"Hey..can I ask you something?" Bucky said as he took his hand and gently tilted your chin towards him.
"Yeah.."
"Why don't you like me?"
"Because you don't like me..?" You said confused.
"What-? No, you don't like me." He said.
This entire feud started because of miscommunication didn't it?
"No, you started making snarky comments towards me the first month I started working here."
"Yeah because you were pretty much a jerk to me doll." He said with a pained chuckle.
"What? What do you mean I was a jerk?"
"Well you showed interest in me in the beginning of the month when you worked here, pretty much lead me on, then when I bought you flowers and left em on my desk you threw em out and never even told me why."
"I- you bought me those?!"
"W- yeah, you didn't know?"
"NO! I- I thought they were from Brock.."
"Why would they be from BROCK?!"
"Because he was hitting on me in the staff room..and then told me you didn't like me..." You said, a bit ashamed this got so out of proportion.
"What- doll. God of course I liked you and- wait Brock was hitting on you?"
"Mhm." You said
"Son of a bitch, I should go knock his fuckin teeth out for all the issues we had to go through and-"
You cut him off by giving him a kiss on the lips. It was soft and slow and passionate and all the little things you needed to confess. His hand combed through your hair and the other wrapped around your waist. Both of your hands instantly wrapped around his neck and you both savored the teaste of one another.
"Hey guys there was an emergency key in one of the stalls and- WHAT THE FUCK-?" Natashas eyes popped out of her head as she witnessed the scene unfolding in front of her.
"YES! I knew it would happen eventually!" You heard Wanda say, and you giggled a bit at their antics.
"What was that about an emergency key Nat?" Bucky said, still a bit out of it from the kiss you two shared.
"Well there was an emergency key in a stall and I'm pretty sure it opens all locks."
"Finally! Let's get the hell outta here." You shouted and all of you ran to the door and Natasha unlocked it. You guys proceeded to unlock all doors in your way and you all finally made it outside.
"Well ladies, and man, it's been a pleasure but I should really go now..I gotta see a certain artsy blonde about something." Said Nat as she walked to her car saying her goodbyes and drove off.
"I should probably get going too, my Vis is probably worried sick!" Wanda said as she gave you a quick kiss on the cheek and said bye to Bucky. She got in her car and drove off as well.
"Who's Vis-?"
"Her husband." You said.
"Oh. Well uhm, do you have a ride..or-?"
"Oh no, I came without my car today..a ride would be nice thank you." You said sheepishly.
"Of course doll, c'mon." He said as he wrapped an arm around your waist and you both walked to his car.
"Hey uhm..would you like to come back to my place for some early dinner..? You don't have to say yes or anything I was just-"
"That'd be great Buck, as long as this isn't a one time thing..?"
"Definitely not doll."
"Well let's go!" You said as you gave him a small kiss on the cheek and you both walked to the car.
Fin
A/N: this was freaking long đ and I liked it..ish.
Please please please show me y'all actually read my crappy writing, like, comment, reblog. Revive me lmfao. It seriously helps with motivation ngl :) â¤ď¸đ§Ąđ
~Nyx
#bucky#bucky fluff#nyx22 blogs#bucky imagine#bucky x y/n#fluff#soft bucky#bucky x reader#bucky x female reader#bucky x you#egotistical bucky#teacher!bucky x teacher!reader#teacher!bucky#bucky reader insert#Steve Rogers#phil coulson#Marvel AU#Teacher AU#enemies to lovers#bucky x reader enemies to lovers#bucky x reader fluff#james bucky barnes#james buchanan barnes#james buchanan bucky barnes#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes#platonic wanda maximoff#platonic natasha romanoff
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Hunting Roses - Chapter 4
AN: This is a yandere Zemo fic. That means that it will have dark content. I do not endorse these relationships and behaviour in real life. This chapter contains mentions of death, tears, pain, divorce, grief, manipulation, fear, panic, and funerals. Also, please let me know if you like the new mood board!
Steve Rogers who was also known as Captain America was not having a good day. To begin with, General Ross, a man who operated on fear and not respect had introduced the Sokovian Accords to the Avengers. In doing so, Ross had ensured that each one of the Avengers thoroughly understood that an overwhelming majority of the governments around the world supported the Accords and what would happen to anyone who opposed the Accords in any way, shape, or fashion.
Steve wasnât blind. Heâd seen the way that Ross zeroed in on Wanda and heard how he kept repeating and emphasising the complete title of the Accords. He was proud of the way that you and Rhodey had stood up for her.
Steveâs mind was whirring when Ross announced that you had immunity and the other Avengers didnât. He had just realised that the singular offer of manipulation was part of a bigger, hidden plan when his phone vibrated.
The message that lit up his screen only contained two words. But those words were enough to cause another crack in his heart. Steveâs gaze became unfocused and all he could see were the words, âSheâs gone.â
His body trembled as he announced that he had to leave. Steve couldnât bring himself to turn around to look at any of his team because he feared that they would see the tears pooling in his eyes and the pain in his heart.
Fifteen minutes later, Steve found himself carrying Peggyâs coffin with five other people. He had tuned out the whole service and his gaze had become blurry as he stared unblinkingly at Peggyâs coffin. While there were certainly people in the church that knew of his dual identity, he was sure that none of them would judge him for his grief.
The end of the service came too quickly and not fast enough for Steve and he once again found himself guiding Peggy to her final resting place. Due to the large crowd, it was easy for him to slip away and return to the now empty church.
That was where Natasha found him. Natasha had just finished explaining that Tony, Rhodey, and Vision had already signed the Accords. When Steve asked about Wanda, Natasha replied that Wanda was under house arrest and Tonyâs protection.
Steveâs throat felt dry as he gathered his courage to ask Natasha if she had signed the Accords too. He was afraid that her answer would mean that he would lose another friend.
Steve felt his heart constrict as Natasha confirmed that she had signed the Accords. He blew out his breath in a disappointed exhale and bent his head to look at the ground instead of Natasha. Steve couldnât even find it in himself to reproach Natasha when her phone rang in the church and she answered it.
His head shot up when he heard her tone change.
âSay that again,â the spy commanded, lowering the hand that held her phone to waist level and pressing the speaker button.
âIâd be more than happy to arrange a hearing appointment for you, Widow, although I didnât think that Iâd need to do that for a couple more decades.â
âTony.â Natasha snapped.
âNot in the mood for jokes I see.â Tony replied smoothly.
âWhat gave it away?â Natasha asked sarcastically.
âThe general tone of your voice, the fact thatâŚ.â
âTony!â Steve bit out impatiently.
âSteve. Iâm sorry to hear about Peggy,â Tony stated sombrely, âand I hate to be the bearer of more unwelcome news but (Name) is nowhere to be found and a woman claiming to be the ex-wife of Baron Helmut Zemo has arrived at the compound along with Zemoâs father and son. They are insistently demanding to talk to as many of us as they can.â
Steveâs feelings about Natasha signing the Accords were pushed to the side at Tonyâs words and he and Natasha shared concerned looks.
âWeâll be there in ten minutes,â Natasha promised.
Steve couldnât think of a time when he had been more grateful for Natashaâs driving ability even if she was a slightly reckless driver on normal occasions. Neither of them spoke as she sped through the streets arriving at the compound in exactly ten minutes.
Steveâs curiosity and apprehension built with every step. He and Natasha walked in silence through the compound and Steve pretended not to notice her side glances every few minutes. While he walked, he wondered exactly what the Zemo family was doing at the compound. He also worried about the fact that you had disappeared from the compound.
Over your time with the Avengers, Steve had been able to piece together bits and pieces of your history. His mind kept returning to the fact that years ago, you and some others had fought against a bill called the Mutant Registration Act. The reminder of the Act was enough to have Steve fighting a shudder. Heâd done some research on that act and he had been appalled at the fact that the Act had even been allowed to enter the Congress chambers.
Steve had also been horrified at the amount of support that the Act had amassed. It seemed that the America he had fought for in the forties was slowly slipping away and being replaced with an unfamiliar, unpredictable, and harsher America.Â
Three people stood up from their chairs as Steve and Natasha entered the conference room. Tony, Rhodey, Clint, Wanda and Sam all turned to look at them. Vision was the only one who didnât. His head was cocked to the side and he was gazing at Wanda with concern. While Natasha sought Clintâs gaze for reassurance, Steve looked at Wanda. Her eyes were red and the skin around them was red too and Steve felt sympathy and protectiveness surge through him. He also noticed that Vision was standing close to her.
When Wanda spoke, her voice was firm, âBaron Heinrich Zemo, Heike PĂĄrduc, and Carl Zemo, may I introduce Steve Rogers and Natasha Romanoff?â
Steve frowned slightly as he tried to figure out why Wanda had introduced the three visitors the way she had. The closest he could get to an answer was that Wanda wanted to introduce them as humans not by their job titles. He melted when he saw Carl wave to him and he returned the gesture.
âAnd your other friend? Phantasm?â Heinrich demanded forcefully, âWhere is she? We came to speak with her!â
Steveâs mind registered the with in Heinrichâs sentence and for some reason, that four letter word had his muscles tensing. Steve estimated that Heinrich was in his mid-sixties but the man still had a formidable air around him. Heike seemed to have a similar fire in her eyes. With her styled, curly blonde hair and light blue eyes, Steve could be forgiven for thinking that Heike was a woman he had encountered in the forties.
Heikeâs son on the other hand had innocent brown eyes underneath furrowed eyebrows and neatly parted, short brown hair. It was easy to tell that Heinrich and Carl were related just by looking at them and Steveâs heart sank because if he could spot the similarities, chances are that other people could as well and Carl could be used as leverage against his family simply because his grandfather was royalty.
Heike turned to her son, who had sat down again while looking at Steve with an awed expression.
âShow them what you can do,â Heike urged quietly and Carl frowned deeply, closing his eyes. When Carl reopened them, Steve was shocked to see his shield sitting on the table between them.Â
Without thinking about it, Steve reached forwards to touch his shield but his hand passed through it as if it wasnât there.
âCarlâs talent appeared the night we left Sokovia.â The Baron rumbled, his voice losing some of its forcefulness as Heike smiled at Carl proudly and the illusion of Steveâs shield vanished when Carl grinned happily up at his mother.
âWe think it has something to do with his fatherâs innate talent of persuading people to see his point of view,â the Baron continued. Steve understood the underlying meaning of the Baronâs words. It seemed that the Baronâs son had no qualms about using words or force to encourage his audience to see his point of view.
âThough that isnât the only reason why we came,â Heike revealed, âit is a small part of it. We all wanted to thank Phantasm for her actions in Sokovia and we wanted to warn her.â
âWarn her?â Clint echoed, âWhy?â
Wanda and Heike looked at each other and then Heike asked Wanda and Vision to take Carl on a tour of the compound. Heike and Heinrich watched them leave and then Heike turned back to face Steve. When she spoke, Steve noticed that her voice had risen slightly and he could detect notes of urgency and panic in it though her tone remained level.
âYou must understand that Helmut and I fell out of love a long time ago. We chose to stay together for Carl and because we didnât want to give the Sokovian media any opportunity to report gossip. Iâm sure you understand that concept.â
The present Avengers all made small noises of agreement.
Heike cleared her throat, âWhen we landed in America and had not heard from Helmut, I began to dream of a different life. In Sokovia, not only was he a former Colonel of the Sokovian Armed Forces but he was a commander of EKO Scorpion, an elite strike force. As a result of his time with those organisations, I began to witness a darker side of the man. There was a ruthlessness to him and so, I quietly made inquires about divorcing him. Heinrich found out about my endeavours and to my surprise, he supported me.â
âPeople change over time.â Heinrich asserted, âSometimes it is not for the better.âÂ
Tony nodded, âIâve had that happen to me once or twice with people Iâve known for a long time.â
Heike nodded, âFortunately or unfortunately, depending on your point of view, I was able to recover the divorce papers that I had signed before we fled Sokovia. When Helmut arrived unexpectedly on our doorstep, he inquired about your friend and there was a longing hidden in his inquires and I thought to myself, âWhy would he hide his intrigue?â All of the answers I considered left a bitter taste in my mouth and so, I took the opportunity and presented Helmut with the divorce papers that I signed. As soon as he left, I felt as if I had played right into his hands and so, we made plans to come here to warn Phantasm. It seems we have arrived too late and she is gone.â
âI have a few ideas where she might have gone.â Natasha spoke up reassuringly and some of the tension left Heikeâs body although Steve saw that Heinrich was still unconvinced, âWeâll find her and weâll tell her what you told us.â
âI will also admit that I am worried about Carl,â Heike continued and Heinrich nodded, âwhile I know that Helmut would be incredibly protective and if the occasion asked for it, downright wrathful if any of his enemies tried to harm Carl in any manner, Carl is a young boy who adores his father. He knows he has a talent and if he thought he could help his father by using this talentâŚâ Heike trailed off. Steve could see the shock on all the Avengersâ faces particularly Natasha, Rhodey and Tonyâs faces at the implication that an innocent child could be manipulated into helping his father simply because they were related.
Heinrich confirmed the hidden message in Heikeâs final speech for the Avengers, âIt would be best if Helmut never found out about his sonâs talent but we do not live in an ideal world. We must be practical. Do you know of a place where my grandson can learn to use his talent safely and without fear?âÂ
âThereâs a place called Xavierâs School for Gifted Youngsters,â Natasha explained âand it would be the first place (Name) would go to feel safe again. On the outside, it appears that the school is academically focused but that is a façade. Its true purpose is to provide a safe environment for children and adults like Carl.â
âCan you escort him there?â Heike pleaded, âI fear that my ex-husband has eyes and ears everywhere and that it will be sooner rather than later that he finds out about Carlâs gift.â
Natasha raised her chin, âI will escort him there and do my absolute best to protect him,â she vowed.
#mywriting#civil war au#spoilers for marvel movies#yandere helmut zemo#female reader#avengers team#avengers fanfic#avengers au#reader is an avenger#reader has powers#enemies to friends#friends to lovers#dark helmut zemo#dark zemo#yandere zemo#steve rogers#wanda maximov#tony stark#heinrich zemo#heike zemo#carl zemo#clint barton#vision#natasha romanoff#the images for the mood board were found on google#credits to the original owners of the images#the mood board was made by me
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