ADERNA

bullshit repeats itself, is that how the saying goes?

you watch him pace across the living room floor, his movements sharp and erratic. the worn wooden boards creak under his weight with every step, a rhythm that's become all too familiar in your shared apartment. it's three in the morning, and neither of you has slept. the argument started hours ago, though you can barely remember what triggered it this time. something about him flinching when you reached for him in the dark, something about the nightmares that have been getting worse again.

"i can't do this anymore," he says for what must be the hundredth time, his voice raw and broken. "i'm poison to you. everything i touch turns to ash."

your fingers twist in the hem of your oversized t-shirt – his, actually – as you watch him. bucky barnes, the man you've loved since you met him in romania, looks more like a ghost than a person tonight. his eyes are hollowed out, haunted by things he won't speak of, things that live in the dark spaces between his memories and his reality. you know he's thinking about hydra, about the blood on his hands, about all the lives he's taken. you know he's thinking about how unworthy he is of your love.

been here a thousand times (selective memory, though)

"we've been here before, buck," you say softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "we always work through it."

he stops pacing and turns to face you, his blue eyes clouded with pain. "that's just it. we shouldn't have to 'work through it.' normal couples don't have to 'work through' the fact that one of them is a brainwashed assassin who could snap at any moment."

"you're not an assassin anymore," you counter, standing up and walking toward him. "that's not who you are."

"but it's part of me," he says, his voice cracking. "it's in my blood, in my bones. i look at you sometimes and i see everything i could destroy. i see how fragile you are, how... breakable. and i'm terrified that one day i'll be the one who breaks you."

you reach out to touch his face, but he flinches away from your hand like it's fire. the rejection stings, but you've learned not to take it personally. it's not you he's rejecting – it's the darkness inside himself that he's afraid will taint you.

i hear it in his eyes, he sees it in my tone

"i'm not as fragile as you think," you say, your voice stronger now. "i knew what i was getting into when we started this. i knew about your past, about the winter soldier."

"no," he shakes his head, his movements frantic. "you didn't. you couldn't have possibly understood what it would be like. the nightmares, the flashbacks, the way i freeze up sometimes. the way i can't stand to be touched when i'm having a bad day. you deserve someone whole, someone who can give you everything you need."

"i need you," you say simply. "just you. not some perfect version of you, not some sanitized version. i need the real you – nightmares and all."

is what it is and it's predictable

"and what happens when the real me hurts you?" he asks, his voice barely audible. "what happens when i have a nightmare and i don't wake up in time? what happens when hydra comes for me and you get caught in the crossfire?"

"then we deal with it," you say, stepping closer until there's barely any space between you. "together. that's what couples do, buck. they face things together."

he looks down at you, his expression unreadable. you can see the war raging behind his eyes – the desire to stay warring with the conviction that he should leave. you know he's right to be scared. you know the risks. but you also know that life without him would be a kind of death, a slow fading into gray nothingness.

all the "i love you's" and "i'm sorry's" were said

"i love you," he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. "god, i love you so much it hurts. and that's why i have to let you go."

"i'm sorry," you reply, your own voice trembling now. "i'm sorry you're hurting. i'm sorry i can't fix it for you."

you reach up to cup his face in your hands, and this time he doesn't pull away. his skin is cold under your palms, his jaw tight with tension. you can feel the slight tremor in his muscles, the constant readiness for a fight that never comes.

we had our sex and then we made amends, that's right

your lips find his in a desperate, hungry kiss. it's not gentle or sweet – it's teeth and tongues and bruising force, a battle of wills and desires. his hands grip your waist, pulling you flush against his body as he deepens the kiss. there's an urgency to your movements, a frantic need to connect, to bridge the chasm that's been widening between you for months.

clothes are shed in a flurry of motion, discarded on the floor like yesterday's arguments. his mouth trails down your neck, leaving a path of fire in its wake. your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer, needing more, needing everything he has to give.

called it a false alarm to all of our friends

he lifts you effortlessly, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carries you to the bedroom. the door slams shut behind you, sealing you in the bubble of your shared world – a world where there are no hydra agents, no nightmares, no past traumas. there's only the two of you, only this desperate need to feel alive, to feel connected, to feel something other than pain.

then we almost broke up again last night

his movements are rough, almost punishing, as he enters you. there's no tenderness here, no gentle exploration. this is raw and primal, a desperate attempt to outrun the demons that chase him. you meet his intensity with your own, your nails digging into his back, your hips rising to meet his thrusts. tears stream down your face, but you're not sure if they're from pleasure or pain. maybe both.

(we almost got so close)

afterward, you lie tangled together in the sheets, your bodies slick with sweat, the air thick with the scent of sex and regret. his head rests on your chest, his ear pressed against your heart as if he's trying to memorize its rhythm. your fingers stroke through his hair, gentle now, soothing.

"don't leave me," you whisper into the darkness. "please, buck. don't leave me."

he doesn't answer, but you feel his arms tighten around you, pulling you closer. it's the closest he'll come to saying yes, and you cling to it like a lifeline.

and when i reached to pull the plug

morning comes too soon, as it always does. the first rays of sunlight filter through the blinds, painting stripes across the rumpled sheets. bucky is already awake, watching you with those haunted eyes of his. you can see the decision has been made again – he's going to try to leave.

i swear, he starts working out

"coffee?" you ask, sitting up and pulling the sheet around you.

he nods, his gaze never leaving yours. "yeah. coffee."

you make your way to the kitchen, your movements stiff and sore. the routine is familiar, comforting in its normalcy. you measure out the coffee grounds, add water, press start. the machine gurgles to life, filling the small space with the rich aroma of brewing coffee.

and on the days i'm a little much

bucky appears in the doorway, leaning against the frame. he's pulled on a pair of sweatpants, his chest bare. the morning light catches the silver of his left arm, making it gleam. there are new scratches on his chest – from your nails, from last night's desperate coupling. you feel a pang of guilt, of shame.

that's when i tell them how sweet he treats me

"i was thinking," he says, his voice still rough from sleep. "maybe we could go to the farmer's market today. get some fresh vegetables. make that pasta you like."

your heart leaps at his words. it's an olive branch, a peace offering. it's him trying, even when it's hard, even when everything in him is screaming that he should run.

and how no other boys compete

"i'd like that," you say, turning to face him fully. "i'd really like that."

he crosses the distance between you, his flesh hand coming up to cup your cheek. his thumb strokes across your skin, gentle, reverent. "i'm sorry about last night," he says softly. "about... everything."

"you don't have to be sorry," you reply, leaning into his touch. "we're in this together, remember?"

he nods, his eyes closing briefly.

i know how it looks, i know how it sounds

the farmer's market is bustling with activity, a riot of colors and sounds and smells. you weave through the crowd, bucky's hand clasped firmly in yours. it's a simple gesture, but it feels monumental – a declaration to the world, and to yourselves, that you're still here, still fighting.

least we'll give 'em something to talk about

you buy tomatoes and basil and fresh pasta. bucky finds a stand selling homemade bread, still warm from the oven. he tears off a piece and

feeds it to you, his fingers brushing against your lips. the gesture is so domestic, so normal, it makes your heart ache. you catch the eye of an older woman browsing nearby, and she gives you a knowing smile. you wonder what she sees – a young couple in love, or something else? does she see the tension in bucky's shoulders, the way his eyes constantly scan the crowd? does she see the faint bruises on your wrists from where he held you too tight last night? or does she just see two people holding hands, sharing a moment on a sunny saturday morning?

all the "i love you's" and "i'm sorry's" were said (sorry's were said)

"i love you," he says, his voice low enough that only you can hear. it's not the desperate, broken declaration from last night. it's simpler, steadier, like he's trying to convince himself as much as you.

"i love you too," you reply, squeezing his hand. the words feel both true and false, a promise you're not sure you can keep but will die trying.

we had our sex and then we made amends, that's right

back home, you put away the groceries while bucky starts a pot of sauce. the domesticity of it all feels surreal, like you're playing house in someone else's life. you move around each other in the small kitchen, a careful dance of avoidance and connection. his hip brushes against yours as he reaches for a knife, and you both freeze for a moment, the air crackling with unspoken tension.

called it a false alarm to all of our friends

"steve called," he says, his back to you as he chops garlic. "while you were in the shower. wanted to see if we wanted to come over for dinner tomorrow."

all your friends knew… obviously they knew, they could tell. steve invited you guys for dinner when he sensed something was off, you guys knew that.

"and?" you prompt, leaning against the counter.

"i told him we’d go," he replies. "told him we were good."

you close your eyes, a wave of relief washing over you. it's a lie, of course. you're not good. you're hanging on by a thread, but it's a lie you can live with, a lie you need to believe. it's the false alarm you'll send out to your friends, the signal that everything is fine, that the fire has been contained once again.

then we almost broke up again last night

the sauce simmers on the stove, filling the apartment with its rich aroma. bucky stands behind you, his arms wrapped around your waist, his chin resting on your shoulder. you can feel the steady beat of his heart against your back, a rhythm that's both comforting and terrifying. you lean into him, letting yourself believe, just for a moment, that this could be enough, that this fragile peace could last.

you say we're driftin' apart

"we can't keep doing this," he says, his voice soft but firm. "this cycle. the fighting, the... making up. it's not healthy. it's not fair to you." he added, his face slightly frowning.

i said, "yeah, i fucking know"

you turn in his arms, looking up at him. "i know," you say, your voice sharp with frustration. "i know it's not healthy, bucky. what do you want me to do? let you go? let you run away and pretend you can escape this by yourself?"

big deal, we've been here before

"maybe that would be better," he says, his eyes pleading. "for you, at least."

"don't you dare say that," you snap, pushing away from him. "don't you dare pretend that leaving me would be some noble sacrifice. it's not. it's cowardice. you're scared, so you're running."

and we'll be here tomorrow

the fight escalates, words flying like shrapnel. old wounds are reopened, new ones are created. you're both crying now, angry, hurtful tears. you say things you don't mean, things you can't take back. he tells you he's a monster, you tell him he's being selfish. it's the same script, the same scene you've acted out a hundred times before.

oh

and then, as suddenly as it started, it's over. the anger burns itself out, leaving behind the familiar ashes of regret and sorrow. he sinks to the floor, his head in his hands. you stand over him, your chest heaving, your anger replaced by a wave of overwhelming sadness.

all the "i love you's" and "i'm sorry's" were said

"i'm sorry," he whispers, his voice muffled by his hands. "i'm so sorry, doll. i don't mean to... i just..."

"i know," you say, your voice softening. you sink to the floor beside him, pulling him into your arms. "i know."

we had our sex and then we made amends, that's right

he's crying now, really crying, silent, shuddering sobs that wrack his entire body. you hold him, rocking him gently, murmuring meaningless words of comfort. his tears soak through your shirt, hot against your skin. you can feel the desperation in his touch, the way he clings to you like you're the only solid thing in a world that's constantly shifting beneath his feet.

called it a false alarm to all of our friends

later, after the tears have subsided, after you've wiped his face with your thumbs and kissed his eyelids, you lead him to the bedroom. the sun is setting now, casting long shadows across the room. the light is soft and golden, making everything look beautiful, even the broken parts.

then we almost broke up again, oh

he lies back on the bed, his eyes closed, his expression weary. you straddle him, your hands resting on his chest. you can feel his heart beating under your palms, a frantic, desperate rhythm. you lean down, your hair falling around his face, and kiss him. it's a gentle kiss, a tender kiss, a kiss that says everything you can't put into words.

we almost broke up, we almost broke up again

his hands come up to cup your face, his thumbs stroking your cheeks. his eyes open, and the look in them takes your breath away. it's a mixture of love and pain, hope and despair, a reflection of your own tangled emotions.

we almost broke up, we almost broke up again

you move against him, a slow, deliberate rhythm. there's no urgency this time, no desperation. it's slow and sweet and heartbreaking. it's an apology, a promise, a prayer. it's you saying, without words, that you're here, that you're not going anywhere, that you'll keep picking up the pieces as long as he keeps letting you.

gave me his whole heart and i gave him head and then

you take him into your mouth, your movements slow and deliberate. this is your offering, your sacrifice. this is the one thing you can give him that no one else can, the one thing that can silence the demons, at least for a little while. his hands tangle in your hair, his hips rising to meet you. you can hear his breath hitch, can feel the tension coiling in his body. you look up at him, and his eyes are closed, his head thrown back in ecstasy. in this moment, he's not the winter soldier, not a victim of hydra, not a broken man. he's just bucky, your bucky, and he's yours.

we almost broke up, we almost broke up

afterward, you lie curled up together, the sheets tangled around your legs. the room is dark now, the only light coming from the streetlamp outside, casting a faint glow across the room. you can hear the sound of traffic, the distant wail of a siren, the normal sounds of a city that's still alive, still moving, even when you feel like your world has stopped.

yeah, we almost broke up again

"stay," he whispers, his voice thick with sleep. "please, just... stay."

you tighten your grip on him, your face buried in his chest. "i'm not going anywhere," you reply, your voice muffled by his skin. "i'm right here."

you know it's not a solution. you know it's not a fix. you know you'll be here again, in this same place, having this same fight, making this same desperate, heartbreaking choice. but for now, in the quiet darkness of your shared bed, it's enough. it has to be.

─˖· masterlist

you, bucky, and steve had been a trio since you were all in sandbox together, your three little buckets making a perfect triangle in the golden sand. steve and bucky were born in the same year, two peas in a pod, while you trailed behind them, the tagalong little sister they never actually minded having around. growing up, it was always bucky with the easy charm and the devil-may-care grin, steve with the steady heart and the righteous gaze, and you, the quiet observer who catalogued every stolen glance and every shared secret. it was no surprise to anyone that when your college acceptance letter arrived, you were bound for the same sprawling university campus as them, a fact that had you all bouncing on the balls of your feet with a giddiness that felt like pure, unadulterated sunshine.

college life was a whirlwind of caffeine-fueled study sessions in the library, the smell of old books and stale coffee, your constant companions. you were a sophomore now, navigating the sprawling campus with a bit more confidence than you had as a freshman, but still feeling like you were playing catch-up to bucky and steve, who were juniors and seemed to have this whole thing figured out. bucky, with his effortlessly tousled brown hair and eyes the color of a summer sky just before a storm. he had the campus reputation for being a bit of a heartbreaker. you'd watched him from the sidelines, metaphorically speaking, as he dated a string of girls: the cheerleader, the poetry major, the girl from his chemistry class. each one was beautiful and bright, and each one eventually faded away, leaving bucky unscathed and charming as ever. steve, on the other hand, was the steady one, the one who had a serious girlfriend or two, relationships that were built on a foundation of mutual respect and shared values.

you had always, always had a crush on bucky. it was a fact as constant as the north star, a secret you kept tucked away in the deepest corner of your heart. he was harmlessly flirty with everyone, his compliments as easy and natural as breathing, and you were always on the receiving end of them. "hey, beautiful," he'd say, slinging an arm around your shoulders as you walked across the quad. "that color looks amazing on you." or, "don't study too hard, sweetheart, wouldn't want you to burn out that brilliant brain of yours." and every time, you'd feel a little flutter in your chest, a tiny spark of hope that you'd immediately stamp out. you were too scared of messing up the perfect, fragile thing the three of you had. you were a unit, a tripod, and you wouldn't risk that for anything, not even for the possibility of something more with him. so you smiled, and you laughed, and you pushed your feelings down, down, down, convincing yourself it was all just a part of who bucky was; a charming, slightly flirty player who didn't mean anything by it.

it was a tuesday, and you were crammed into a lecture hall for your intro to sociology class, the professor's voice a monotonous drone that was doing a poor job of competing with the glorious sunshine streaming through the tall windows. thankfully this was one of the few classes you thoroughly enjoyed on campus. not because of the teacher, but because of two of your best friends, one being a gorgeous tall and beefy frame that sat next to you.

the three of you didn’t end up in this class by accident, no. you planned for this. you remember having forced bucky and steve to sit down and create a plan of their semester classes up until their graduation date. now, when it came to choosing the electives, you all agreed to pick sociology together, hoping it was interesting enough to keep you guys entertained for a semester.

you were scribbling notes, your pen scratching against the paper, when bucky, who was sitting next to you, nudged your elbow. you glanced over, and he was grinning, that same mischievous, boyish grin that had gotten the three of you into more trouble than you could count.

"guess what i got," he whispered, his voice low and conspiratorial.

you raised an eyebrow, trying to focus on the professor's diagram of social stratification. "a passing grade on your last exam?" you teased.

"ha ha, very funny," he said, rolling his eyes. "no, better. way better." he reached into his backpack and pulled out three neon green tickets, the kind that looked like they'd been printed at a cheap carnival. "the traveling carnival is in town this weekend. the big one. the one with the roller coaster and the giant ferris wheel. i got us three tickets."

your eyes widened, and for a moment, you forgot all about social stratification. the carnival was a legendary event, a temporary city of lights and sounds that set up on the outskirts of town for one weekend every fall. you'd been talking about wanting to go for weeks, but the tickets were notoriously expensive and sold out fast. "bucky, are you serious?" you breathed, your heart doing a little leap. "how did you even get these?"

"i have my ways," he said, wiggling his eyebrows. "i know a guy who knows a guy. but yeah, i'm serious. for friday night. you, me, and stevie. we're gonna go."

on your other side, steve, who had been pretending to be absorbed in his textbook, leaned over. "the carnival? nice, buck!" he said, giving bucky a fist bump in front of you, his face lighting up. "i've been wanting to try that deep-fried everything stand."

you felt a wave of pure, unadulterated happiness wash over you. it was just going to be the three of you, just like old times. "this is amazing, bucky," you said, your voice full of genuine gratitude. "thank you. i didn't think i'd be able to go."

"of course," he said, his smile softening as he looked at you. "wouldn't leave you guys out." he reached over and tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear, his fingers brushing against your cheek for a fleeting second. it was a simple, friendly gesture, but it sent a jolt through you all the same. "it's gonna be great."

the rest of the week passed in a blur of classes and assignments, but the thought of the carnival was a constant, bright spot in your mind. you found yourself daydreaming about it during your lectures, imagining the neon lights reflecting in bucky's eyes, the smell of popcorn and cotton candy hanging in the air, the sound of laughter and screams echoing from the rides. when friday finally arrived, you felt a strange, unfamiliar sense of nervous energy buzzing under your skin. you were in your dorm room, staring at your closet, a feeling you couldn't quite identify swirling in your stomach.

you should have just thrown on your usual jeans and a hoodie. that was your go-to, your uniform. but instead, you found yourself pulling out a pair of dark-wash, tiny, denim shorts that you usually saved for special occasions, and a soft, dark red sweater. you spent an unusual amount of time on your hair, trying to get it to fall in just the right way, and you even dug out a tube of mascara and a hint of lip gloss. you caught your reflection in the mirror, a flicker of self-consciousness making you blush. what were you doing? this was just bucky and steve. you'd known them your entire life. you'd seen them with food poisoning and broken arms and terrible haircuts. why did it smatter what you looked like?

a little voice in the back of your head whispered, ‘because it's bucky.’ but you quickly shoved that voice aside, telling yourself you were just being silly. you were just excited to go to the carnival. that was all. you slid on your shoes and headed out to meet them, your heart thumping a little faster than usual.

they were waiting for you by the main entrance of your dorm building, just like they always were. steve was leaning against the brick wall, scrolling through his phone, and bucky was standing next to him, his hands shoved in his pockets, a small, thoughtful smile on his face. when he saw you, his smile widened, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

"hey, look who it is," he said, pushing off the wall and opening his arms for a hug. you walked into them, breathing in the familiar scent of his cologne, something clean and woodsy. "ready to have your mind blown?"

"always," you said, your voice muffled against his shoulder. when you pulled back, you noticed someone standing a few feet behind him. she was tall and blonde, with a perfectly manicured smile and a cute miniskirt that looked like it belonged in a club, not at a dusty carnival. she was looking at bucky with an expression of proprietary interest, and your stomach did a little flip-flop that had nothing to do with excitement.

"chloe, this is," bucky said your name, introducing you and turning to the girl and then back to you. bucky repeated your name, continuing with the introductions “, this is chloe."

your smile froze on your face. "oh," you said, trying to recover quickly. "hi! It's really nice to meet you,” your smile more welcoming by the second.

"you too," chloe said, her voice smooth as silk, but her eyes were cool as they raked over you. "bucky's told me so much about you,” she said plainly, still eyeing you.

you glanced at bucky, who was rubbing the back of his neck, a slight flush on his cheeks. "yeah, well, i hope all good things," you said, trying to joke, but it fell a little flat.

"i hope you don't mind that i invited her," he said, turning to you and steve, his expression a little apologetic. "i bought an extra ticket."

"of course not," steve said, ever the peacemaker, stepping forward to offer chloe a friendly smile. "the more the merrier."

you got lost in your thoughts for a second. you recognized her name from campus whispers, a sophomore in your year who was rumored to be as sharp as broken glass and twice as evil. you'd always given people the benefit of the doubt, assuming most rumors were just little white lies born from jealousy or boredom.

bucky's eyes had lit up when he'd mentioned her joining them, a bright, eager look that you'd rarely seen directed at anyone else. you felt a little pang of jealousy, but ultimately shrugged it off because you knew he didn’t like you like that. you had no right to feel that way. you were just his friend. and besides, maybe she was nice. maybe all the rumors were wrong.

the carnival was a sensory explosion from the moment you stepped through the gates. the sun was just beginning to dip towards the horizon, painting the sky in strokes of orange and pink, and the entire place was buzzing with a chaotic, joyful energy. the air was thick with the smells of popcorn, fried dough, and sweet, spun sugar, all mingling with the faint scent of diesel from the generators. neon lights in every color imaginable blinked and pulsed, casting a kaleidoscope of reflections on the wet pavement. the sound system was a cacophony of upbeat pop music, the delighted shrieks of people on the rides, and the booming voice of a carnival barker promising a prize to anyone who could ‘knock down the milk bottles!’

"wow," you breathed, your eyes wide with wonder. it was even better than you'd imagined. "this is incredible."

"told you," bucky said, his voice full of pride. he was standing close to chloe, his hand resting possessively on the small of her back. "so, what first? the tilt-a-whirl? the haunted house?"

"definitely the roller coaster," you exclaimed, pointing towards the massive metal structure that loomed over the rest of the carnival like a giant, skeletal beast. its tracks twisted and turned in impossible loops, and you could hear the screams of its riders echoing across the fairgrounds.

"i don't think so," chloe said, wrinkling her nose. "i just got my hair done. and i don't want to get whiplash."

"oh," you said quickly, your enthusiasm deflating slightly. "right. well, maybe the ferris wheel then? we could see the whole town from the top,” you smiled.

"that's a bit... boring, don't you think?" chloe said, tapping a perfectly manicured nail against her chin. "how about we play some games first? i want a prize." she looked up at bucky, batting her lashes and smiling "are you gonna win me that teddy bear bucky?"

bucky's chest seemed to puff up a little. "for you? anything," he said, half joking and half flirting, his voice a low, a charming rumble. he led them over to a booth where a man with a grizzled face was gesturing towards a pyramid of milk bottles. steve followed, shooting you an apologetic look over his shoulder. you trailed behind them, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in your stomach.

you watched as bucky paid for three balls, his muscles flexing in his t-shirt as he wound up for the throw. he was a natural athlete, and it showed. the first ball flew through the air and knocked down all three bottles in the front row. chloe clapped her hands delicately and smiled. the second ball took out another row. but the third ball, aimed at the final, most stubborn bottle, bounced off the rim and flew wide.

"so close," the carny said, a smirk playing on his lips.

"let me try," steve said, stepping up. he was strong, deceptively so, and his first throw sent the remaining bottles flying. "there we go," he said, a triumphant grin on his face.

“nice stevie!” you added, grinning and looking proud. 

the carny sighed and gestured towards a wall of prizes. "take your pick."

steve reached for a purple octopus, but chloe was already pointing at the small teddy bear in the top corner. "the big one, steve," she said, her voice dripping with sweetness. "bucky almost got it for me."

“almost.” you muttered quietly under your breath, trying not to roll your eyes.

steve's jaw tightened for a fraction of a second, but he nodded gamely and pointed to the bear. the carny grumbled as he unhooked it and handed it over. it was small, furry, and she immediately wrapped her arms around it, snuggling into its fuzzy brown fur.

"my hero," she cooed, looking up at bucky, not steve. 

“he didn’t even fucking win it for you” you whispered quietly to yourself, turning your head to hide your annoyed expression.

you really wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt, but she made it so fucking hard. you weren’t really sure if you were more angry that she was dick-riding bucky or the fact that she might actually literally dick-ride him. but if there was one thing you knew how to do was push your emotions to the side. you’ve done it with bucky for years, how hard can it be to hide your growing annoyance for just a night.

you immediately snapped back into reality when you heard chloe ask, “what was that?” while tilting her head and giving the fakest smile you’d ever seen.

“oh nothing,” you added, scrunching your nose and shaking your head.

"buck, what should i name him?" she presses.

"how about barnaby?" bucky suggested, his eyes soft as he looked at her.

you felt a little sick to your stomach, like you might actually throw up. so you turned to steve, who was already giving you a side-eye, a wry smile on his face. "come on," he said, jerking his head towards a ride that looked like a giant swinging pendulum. "let's go on that thing. i need a break for a minute." he teased, widening his eyes and shaking his head as he walked.

you laughed, the tension in your chest easing slightly. "you and me both," you said. "that thing looks like it could make a person's brain fall out of their ears."

“are you talking about the ride or chloe? because if its chloe that was a great metaphor” steve added, nudging your shoulder to make you laugh.

you let out a small chuckle. steve always knew how to cheer you up.

"come on, lets find out if this ride will scramble that smart head of yours," he said, ruffling your hair before grabbing your hand and pulling you towards the ride. you glanced back at bucky and chloe, who were already lost in their own little world, chloe stroking the bear's head while bucky whispered something in her ear that made her giggle. you pushed the image away and focused on steve, whose warm, steady presence was a comforting anchor in the sea of unfamiliar emotions.

the ride was exhilarating, a stomach-dropping, heart-pounding thrill that had you screaming and laughing until your sides hurt. as you stumbled off, your legs feeling like jelly, steve was right there to steady you.

"you okay there?" he asked, his eyes crinkling with amusement.

"i think my organs are all in the wrong place," you gasped for air as you laughed, leaning against him for support. "but yeah, i'm great, wow! that was amazing."

"glad to hear it," he said. "now, i believe we were promised some deep-fried delicacies."

you spent the next hour or so wandering through the carnival with steve, trying on ridiculous hats, making fun of the cheesy prizes at the game booths, and eating yourselves into a state of blissful, greasy stupor. you shared a deep-fried pickle corndog that was surprisingly delicious, and a basket of deep-fried oreos that were pure, unadulterated heaven. for a while you had completely forgot about bucky and chloe. that was up until bucky and chloe caught up with you, but they seemed to be in their own bubble, and you found yourself gravitating back towards steve, whose easy-going company was a welcome relief from the tension that seemed to cling to chloe like a second skin.

"so, what's the deal with her?" steve asked, nodding towards chloe, who was currently trying to convince bucky to win her another prize, this time a giant pink unicorn.

you shrugged, trying to act casual. "i don't know. i've heard some things, but i don't really know her. she seems... nice enough." you knew you were lying, and you knew steve knew it too.

"right," he said, nodding, holding back a laugh. "Nice."

you both made eye contact and immediately broke into laughter. “honestly i can’t even lie anymore,” you said, shaking your head and throwing your hands up in surrender “she’s a bitch!”

steve was always really nice, not often engaging in gossip, but today, with chloe, it was a completely different story. he noticed how she talked to you and made snarky remarks. it was hard not to laugh at her persistent attitude.

after hours, the sun finally dipped below the horizon, the carnival transformed. the neon lights seemed to grow brighter, casting long, dancing shadows on the ground, and the air grew cooler, carrying with it the promise of a crisp autumn night. you were all standing in line for the haunted mansion, a classic ride that promised a scary good time, except this one had a water warning outside of it, but you simply assumed it was probably just a bit of mist and water drops to add fear to the ride. you were getting in line with steve when chloe decided to make another appearance.

"i'm not going on that," she said, her voice dripping with disdain. "it looks creepy. and i'll get wet."

"It’s called the dripping in fear haunted mansion for a reason, chloe," you said, unable to keep the sarcasm out of your voice. "that's kind of the point."

she shot you a look that could have frozen hell. "i wasn't talking to you," she said, her voice icy.

you scoffed, a bit fed up with her bad manners.

"chloe," bucky said, his voice a low warning.

"what?" she said, turning to him, her expression instantly softening. "i just don't want to ruin my shoes. they're new."

"it's fine," you said quickly, not wanting to cause a scene. "we can do something else, it’s not a big deal."

"no," bucky said, his voice firm. he looked at chloe, his brow furrowed. "why don't you go get us some funnel cakes? find a table and we'll meet you there."

chloe's smile tightened, but she nodded. "fine," she said, her voice sweet as poison. "anything for you, my love." she stood on her tiptoes and gave him a quick, peck-like kiss on the lips before sashaying away, leaving a cloud of cloying perfume in her wake.

you couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy and rage when you saw her do that, but you quickly shoved it, storing it deep in your heart because bucky was still your best friend. you always wanted him to have the best, to be happy, and if chloe somehow did that, that was good enough.

you and steve and bucky stood in awkward silence for a moment, the sounds of the carnival swelling around you. you could feel the anger radiating off bucky in waves, his jaw clenched tight.

"i'm sorry," he said, finally turning to you. "she's not usually like this."

"it's fine," you said, even though it wasn't. "really,” you smiled.

"no, it's not," he said, his voice low and intense. "she had no right to talk to you like that." he ran a hand through his hair, a gesture of frustration you knew all too well. "i don't know what's wrong with her tonight."

"maybe she's just not a carnival person," steve offered, ever the diplomat.

"maybe," bucky said, but he didn't sound convinced. he looked at you, his blue eyes full of a regret that made your chest ache. "i'm really sorry, doll. i wanted this to be a good night for all of us."

"it is a good night," you said, forcing a smile. "i'm with my two best friends at the carnival. it doesn't get much better than that." you reached out and squeezed his arm, trying to convey a sincerity you weren't sure you felt. "come on, let's go on this thing."

the dripping haunted mansion wasn’t as wet as you’d expected, but it sure was scary as hell. you sat in the middle of the cart, steve directly in front of you, and bucky bringing up the rear. as the ride progressed, you encountered all types of scary actors with makeup as well different jumpscares. you could feel the mist coming down from the ceiling, but with the noise around you and seemingly fake blood dripping on the walls it was disgusting and terrifying. 

just as you thought the ride was about to end, the cart quickly turned a sharp corner and a massive clown flashed and moved above your head, a scream tearing from your throat as you squeezed your eyes shut. the cart quickly rolled down a tiny incline and you came out of the house, being ushered out of the seats.

"holy shit," you gasped, gripping your hair in fear. "that was horrible"

bucky was laughing, a genuine, deep-throated laugh that you hadn't heard all night. "you look like you just saw a ghost" he said, his eyes sparkling.

"maybe because i just fucking did" you shot back, splashing him with the droplets of water that were dripping from your hair.

steve was just shaking his head, a grin plastered on his face. "either i’m too old for this, or you’re a wimp, because that was not scary," he said, but he was laughing too.

you weren’t soaked but your hair had taken most of it, but you didn't care. you found chloe sitting at a picnic table under a large tent, a pristine funnel cake sitting in front of her, untouched. she looked you up and down, her lip curled in disgust.

"you're all wet and your hair is frizzy," she said, as if it were a personal affront.

"it's the dripping haunted mansion" you said, your voice sprinkled with a sweetness that rivaled hers. "it’s exactly what I expected" you retorted, taking a step back, pulling your hair in your hands and shaking most of the water out.

"i can see that," she said, her eyes narrowing. "did you have to shake all over the place? you're gonna get water on my shoes."

“my hair isn’t even near you, that's why i stepped back” you defended, slightly irritated.

"chloe," bucky said, his voice dangerously low.

"what?" she said, turning to him, her eyes wide with mock innocence. "i'm just stating a fact. she's being a bit of a mess, don't you think?"

that was it. you'd had enough. you were tired of her snide comments and her condescending tone. you were tired of her making you feel like an intruder in your own group. you opened your mouth to say something, something sharp and witty and cutting, but bucky beat you to it.

"that's enough," he said, his voice cold and hard. he stood up, his posture rigid with anger. "come on, we're leaving."

"what?" chloe said, her smile finally faltering. "can she not take a joke?"

"nobody laughed," he said, his voice leaving no room for argument. "we're leaving. Now."

he grabbed her arm,  his grip firm but not rough, and started to respectfully guide her away from the table. she stumbled after him, her expression a mixture of shock and outrage. you and steve watched them go, your heart pounding in your chest.

"well, that was... something," steve said, breaking the silence.

"mhm," you voiced.

"well, he can deal with her. I’m gonna go to bathroom" steve said, gesturing towards the green portapotties. "i'll be right back."

you nodded, your eyes still fixed on the spot where bucky and chloe had disappeared. you felt a strange mix of emotions: relief, anger, and a lingering, aching sadness. you'd wanted this night to be perfect, a chance to recapture some of the old magic, the easy camaraderie the three of you had always shared. instead, it had been a minefield of tension and unspoken feelings you had.

you decided to take a walk, to clear your head. you wandered through the crowded midway, the lights and sounds a blur around you. you weren't paying attention to where you were going, your feet carrying you on a familiar path, until you heard a raised voice from behind a row of game booths. you recognized it instantly. it was bucky.

"...don't care," he was saying, his voice tight with anger. "you don't talk to her like that. you don't even look at her like that."

"like what?" chloe shot back, her voice shrill with indignation. "like she's a child who can't take a joke?"

"it wasn't a joke," bucky said, his voice low and dangerous. "you were being cruel. shes special to me and you know that.”

“oh trust me, i know she’s special to you, you never shut up about her.” chloe gritted

“i won't have you treating her like shit." bucky remarked back.

"or what?" she challenged. "what are you going to do about it?"

"wow okay,” he said, swiping his hand over his face. “Yea this," his voice flat, "we're done. go home, chloe."

you heard a scoff, followed by the sound of footsteps stomping away. you held your breath, your heart hammering against your ribs. a moment later, bucky emerged from behind the booths, his face a mask of fury. he saw you standing there, and his expression softened, the anger in his eyes replaced by a look of weary resignation.

"how much of that did you hear?" he asked, his voice quiet.

"enough," you said, your voice just as quiet. “buck, i’m so sorry.”

he ran a hand through his hair, sighing heavily. "no, i'm sorry," he said, for what felt like the hundredth time that night. "i really messed tonight up."

"no," you said, stepping closer to him. "you didn't. you couldn’t have known she would act like that."

"i shouldn't have invited her," he said, his eyes fixed on the ground. "i just... i thought it would be fun. i didn't think..."

"it's okay, bucky," you said, reaching out and placing a hand on his arm. "i promise it's fine."

he looked up at you then, his blue eyes searching yours. they were so full of emotion, a swirling vortex of regret and frustration and something else, something you couldn't quite name. "you're too good for this," he said shaking his head, his voice thick with emotion. "you're too good for me."

"don't say that," you said, your voice soft. "that's not true."

"isn't it?" he said, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. "i bring a girl who treats you like crap, i ruin the night you were so excited for, and then i have a public fight with her in the middle of a carnival. some friend i am."

"Buck, you're my best friend," you said, your voice firm. "and tonight is not ruined because it's not over."

a slow smile spread across his face, the first genuine smile you'd seen from him all night. "yeah?" he said, his voice a little hopeful.

"yeah," you said, returning his smile and nudging his shoulder. "now, are you going to buy me a deep-fried snickers bar, or do i have to steal steve's wallet?"

he laughed, a real, honest-to-god laugh that made your heart soar. "lead the way," he said, gesturing grandly.

you found steve by the funnel cake stand, looking a little lost. when he saw you and bucky approaching, a look of relief washed over his face.

"everything okay?" he asked, his eyes darting between the two of you.

"everything's great," you said, linking your arm through bucky's. "chloe had to go. something about a... hair emergency, right?" you asked jokingly while looking up at bucky.

he simply nodded, holding back a laugh.

steve's eyebrows shot up, but he didn't press. "well, in that case," he said, a grin spreading across his face. "who wants to ride the scrambler until they puke?"

the rest of the night was a blur of pure, unadulterated fun. you went on every ride you could find, from the bumper cars to the gravity-defying pendulum, until you were all dizzy and breathless with laughter. you ate more fried food than you thought was humanly possible, sharing sticky, sweet bites of funnel cake and crispy, salty onion rings. bucky was back to his old self, his charm and his easy laugh on full display, but there was something different about him now. his eyes kept finding yours in the crowd, a soft, warm look in them that made your heart skip a beat.

it didn’t help your case when he made flirty remarks towards you, or when he looked at you with his gorgeous blue eyes, gosh you were head over heels for him and you couldn’t do anything about it.

by the time you made it to the ferris wheel, the night was in full swing. the moon was high in the sky, a pale silver disc against a backdrop of inky black, and the stars were out in full force, a dizzying array of glittering diamonds. the line for the ferris wheel was long, but you didn't mind. you were content to just stand there, tucked between bucky and steve, the cool night air a welcome relief from the heat of the day.

"i don't know if i can do another one," steve said, his face a little green. "I think that last ride might have been a mistake."

"aw, come on, stevie," bucky said, slinging an arm around his shoulders. "the ferris wheel is a gentle ride. it's practically a rocking chair. you'll be fine."

"i don't know," steve said, his voice a little weak. "i think i'm going to call it a night. you guys go ahead. i'll just... wait here for you."

"are you sure?" you asked, a little concerned. he did look a bit pale.

"yeah," he said, forcing a smile. "i'm sure. just... maybe don’t go on any more rides that go upside down. i don't think your stomachs could handel more."

“pussy” you said jokingly coughing into your arm, steve rolling his eyes and chuckling at your remark.

"no promises," bucky said, grinning.

you said your goodbyes to steve, promising to meet him back at the entrance in an hour, and then you and bucky got in line for the ferris wheel. the line moved quickly, and before you knew it, you were being ushered into a small, swinging car, the metal gate clanging shut behind you. the car lurched as it was hooked onto the giant, slowly turning wheel, and you felt a little flutter of excitement in your stomach.

"i haven't been on one of these in years," you said, leaning your head back against the cool metal of the seat, finally feeling relaxed.

"me neither," bucky said, his voice quiet. As he sat across from you, his knees pressed against yours, and you could feel the warmth of his body touching you. "not since we were kids."

"remember that time we went to the county fair back home?" you said, a fond smile on your face. "and you got stuck on the top of the ferris wheel with that girl from your math class? what was her name? jessica?"

"jenna," he said, a laugh in his voice. "and i didn't get stuck. the ride operator just stopped it at the top to give us a romantic moment." he said, emphasizing his words and wiggling his eyebrows.

"it was the most awkward five minutes of my life," you said, laughing. "i was down on the ground with steve, watching you two just sit there in silence. i thought steve was going to die from secondhand embarrassment."

"hey, in my defense, i was fourteen," he said. "i didn't know what to say to her."

"you never know what to say to girls," you teased. "you just stand there and look pretty."

"and it works, doesn't it?" he said, his voice a low, teasing rumble.

"most of the time," you conceded, rolling your eyes, feeling your heart fluttering a little. "but not with jenna."

"no, not with jenna," he agreed, his smile softening. "she was too smart for me."

"or maybe you were just too busy staring at her boobs," you said, unable to resist the jab.

"hey," he said, feigning offense. "i was a fourteen-year-old boy. what do you expect?"

"i expect nothing less," you said, grinning.

the ferris wheel continued its slow, steady ascent, the world below you shrinking with every rotation. the lights of the carnival blurred into a glittering tapestry of color, and the sounds of the crowd faded into a distant hum. it was peaceful up here, a quiet, intimate bubble suspended between the earth and the sky.

"it's beautiful up here," you said, your voice barely a whisper.

"yeah," he said, his voice just as quiet. "it really is."

you turned to look at him, and he was already looking at you, his blue eyes soft and luminous in the dim light of the carnival. they were the color of a deep, tranquil ocean, and you felt like you could drown in them, happily and without a second thought. the air between you crackled with a tension that was both terrifying and exhilarating, a thousand unspoken words hanging between you, waiting to be said.

"bucky," you started, your voice a little shaky.

"yeah?" he said, his voice a low, gentle hum. 

"why did you invite her tonight? why bring chloe if she’s such a… like a…" you asked, struggling to find the right words, the question tumbling out before you could stop it.

“a bitch?” he asked straight faced.

“well i mean, i was gonna say cunt but yea that too!” you said breaking out in laughter

he chuckled, his gaze slowly dropping from yours to his hands, which were fidgeting in his lap. "i don't know," he said, his voice quiet. "i guess i was just... trying to prove something."

“what?” you asked confused.

“you asked why i brought her here. I was trying to prove something.”

"prove what?" you asked, your heart aching for him.

"that i could date other girl" he said, his voice barely audible. "that i didn't... that i wasn't..." he trailed off, his jaw clenched tight. “nevermind,” he grumbled out.

"that you weren't what?" you prompted, tilting your head, your voice soft and confused.

he looked up at you then swiped his tongue across his top lip, biting back a laugh. “doll, i thought you were smart.” 

“okay rude. i would like you to know that i am ver–” you groaned, stopping mid sentence. “ugh, it doesn't matter, buck, you didn’t finish your sentence–”.

“and i’m not going to.” he said plainly.

“i– what? why not?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“you’re smart doll, you’ll figure it out.” he said, ruffling your hair as he got up to get out of the car.

you hadn’t even noticed you were back on the ground until you were trailing behind bucky, taking massive strides to catch up with him.

“bucky wait, are you gonna explain or?” you said walking after him before he stopped abruptly.

you watched as he looked up at the massive circular structure in front of you. “woah” you whispered, watching the rides car do a full 360, leaving the passengers completely upside down.

"what the hell is that?" you asked, completely caught off guard by the insanely terrifying coaster in front of you.

“that is the ring of fire” he said pointing towards the massive, steel monstrosity that literally looked like a giant, spinning ring of fire

your eyes widened in horror. "nope," you said, shaking your head. "absolutely not. that thing leaves you hanging upside down." you said trying to turn around and walk away from the ride.

bucky quickly grabbed your wrist and pulled in, resting his hand on the low of your back. 

"i know," he said, his voice full of mischief. "it'll be fun."

"it'll be terrifying," you corrected, shaking your head. "i'm not going on that."

"please," he said, turning his head down, his blue eyes wide and pleading. "for me?"

“i’ll tell you what I meant on the ferris wheel” he added.

you knew you should say no. you knew it was a terrible idea. but you were looking into his eyes, and you could see the boy you had grown up with, the one who had dared you to climb the tallest tree in the park and the one who had held your hand when you got your stitches. you saw the man who you were head over heels for. you wanted to know the truth, something he was adamant on not sharing with you. and you knew you were a goner.

you took a deep breath, "deal," you said, your voice a little shaky. "but if i puke, i'm doing it on your shoes."

"deal," he said, repeating the word back to you, his face breaking into a triumphant grin.

you started to walk closer to the queue of the ride. the ring of fire was even more terrifying up close. it was a giant, steel circle, with a single row of cars attached to the inside of the rim. as you watched, it started to spin, slowly at first, then faster and faster, until the cars were perpendicular to the ground, the riders screaming as they were held in place by nothing but a flimsy-looking lap bar. then, as it reached its maximum speed, the entire ring tilted upwards, until the cars were at the very top of the circle, completely upside down, a silent, breathless moment of defiance against gravity.

"i can't do this," you said, your heart pounding in your chest. "i changed my mind."

"too late," he said, grabbing your hand

and pulling you closer to the entrance. "you already agreed. no backsies."

"that's not a real rule," you protested, but you were already being ushered into a car, the metal lap bar coming down to lock you in place. it felt flimsy and inadequate, and you were suddenly very aware of how high up you were going to be.

"it's the most important rule," he said, his hand finding yours in the darkness of the car. he laced his fingers through yours, his grip tight and reassuring. "just hold on to me. i've got you."

you took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. "okay," you said, your voice a little shaky. "i'm holding you to that."

the ride started with a jolt, the car lurching forward as the ring began to spin. it was slow at first, a gentle, rocking motion that was almost pleasant. but then it started to speed up, the world outside the car blurring into a dizzying kaleidoscope of light and color. you could feel the g-force pulling at you, a heavy, insistent pressure that pinned you to the back of the seat.

"you okay?" bucky yelled over the roar of the machinery.

"i think so!" you yelled back, your knuckles white where you were tightly gripping his hand.

the ring began to tilt, the ground slowly disappearing from view as you were lifted towards the sky. your stomach dropped, a sickening lurch that made you gasp. you squeezed your eyes shut, your heart hammering against your ribs like a trapped bird.

"don't close your eyes," bucky said, his voice a steady anchor in the chaos. "look at me. just look at me."

you forced your eyes open, and you were looking at him. his face was illuminated by the flashing lights of the carnival, his blue eyes intense and focused on yours. he was smiling, a wide, exhilarated grin that made your heart do a little flip.

"see?" he said, his voice full of confidence. "it's not so bad."

"it's terrible!" you yelled, but you were smiling too.

the ring reached its apex, and for a terrifying, exhilarating moment, you were completely upside down. the world was a dizzying, upside-down mess of lights and sound, and you were hanging on for dear life, your only connection to reality the warm, steady pressure of bucky's hand in yours. you screamed, a long, loud, cathartic scream that was equal parts terror and pure, unadulterated joy. there were muffled yells around you, but you could hear bucky laughing, a deep, booming sound that was even louder than the roar of the ride and screams.

and then, just as quickly as it had begun, it was over. the ring began to level out, the spinning slowing down until you were back on the ground, the world righting itself around you. the lap bar released with a loud clank, and you stumbled out of the car, your legs feeling like jelly.

"i can't believe we just did that," you said, your voice shaky with adrenaline and laughter.

"i told you it would be fun," he said, his arm wrapping around your waist to steady you.

"it was the most terrifying thing i've ever done in my entire life," you said, leaning against him, your body still buzzing with the aftershocks of the ride.

"but you loved it," he said, his voice a low, confident rumble.

"i did," you admitted, a wide, unstoppable grin spreading across your face. "i totally loved it."

you were standing there, in the middle of the crowded midway, the lights of the carnival pulsing around you, the sounds of the rides and the laughter of the crowd a distant roar. you were breathless and disheveled, your heart still pounding in your chest, and you had never felt more alive in your entire life. you looked up at him, at the boy you had known your whole life, the man that you convinced yourself you could live romantically without for years on end, and you knew, with a certainty that settled deep in your bones, that you didn’t want to do that anymore. that this was it. this was the moment.

you reached up, your hand cupping the back of his neck, and pulled him down to you. you kissed him, a fierce, passionate kiss that tasted of adrenaline and cotton candy and a future that was finally, beautifully within your reach. he kissed you back, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you closer, his lips claiming yours in a way that left no room for doubt. it was a kiss that said everything you had ever wanted to say, a promise of all the adventures to come, a declaration of a love that had been there all along, just waiting for the right moment to be set free.

when you finally pulled away, you were both breathless, your foreheads resting against each other. the lights of the carnival seemed brighter, the music louder, the stars in the sky more brilliant than they had ever been before.

You bit back a smile, "wow," you breathed, your voice full of wonder.

"yeah," he said, his voice a low, contented hum. "Wow."

“well i guess you figured out what i was talking about on the ferris wheel. told you you were smart enough doll.” bucky said grinning.

“oh shut up” you said giving him a small push backwards with a smile on your face.

“where do you think you’re going?” he said, grabbing your wrist and pulling you back in for another kiss. this time it was sweeter and slower, showing the gentle way each piece found its place, like a story meant to unfold this way.

pulling back he immediately took your hand, his fingers lacing through yours, and you started to walk, away from the noise and the chaos of the midway, towards the quiet, tree-lined path that led to the entrance. you walked in comfortable silence, the sounds of the carnival fading behind you, replaced by the gentle rustle of the leaves in the cool night air.

"so," you said, your voice a little shy. "you owe me a pink unicorn" you teased.

he laughed, a deep, warm sound that made your heart soar. "don't worry," he said, squeezing your hand. “first thing tomorrow, we're coming back, and i'm winning you that giant unicorn. and the teddy bear. and that weird-looking fish with the googly eyes." he added, placing his fingers over his eyes and flailing his head around jokingly.

"you don't have to do all that," you said, nudging him, your voice soft.

"yes, i do," he said, his voice firm. "i have a lot of time to make up for."

you reached the entrance of the carnival, the bright lights a stark contrast to the quiet darkness of the street beyond. steve was waiting for you, leaning against a lamppost, a sleepy smile on his face.

"there you are," he said, pushing himself off the lamppost. "i was about to send out a search party."

"sorry," you said, grinning. "we got a little sidetracked."

"i can see that," he said, his eyes darting between your intertwined hands and the goofy, lovesick grin on bucky's face. "it's about time."

"shut up, steve," bucky said, but there was no malice in his voice, only a deep, abiding affection.

"i'm just saying," steve said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "it's about damn time."

you all started to walk, the three of you, a unit, a tripod, just like you had always been. but something was different now. something had shifted. the unspoken tension that had always existed between you and bucky was gone, replaced by a new, easy intimacy, a comfortable silence that spoke volumes. you were walking hand in hand with bucky, your fingers laced through his, and it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

"so," steve said, breaking the silence. "did you win her a prize?"

"not yet," bucky said, his eyes twinkling. "but i promise i will."

"you better," you said, leaning your head against his shoulder. "i've been waiting a long time for this."

"me too," he said, his voice a low, contented hum. "me too."

you walked through the quiet streets of the college town, the three of you, your laughter echoing in the cool night air. you stood between steve and bucky, your hand on their shoulders. the carnival was a distant memory, a glittering dream of lights and sound, but the feeling of it, the magic of it, stayed with you, a warm, glowing ember in your heart. you looked at steve, your best friend, he was there, every year, through every single situation you encountered, then you looked up at bucky, at the boy you had grown up with, the man you had been in love with for years, and you knew, with a certainty that settled deep in your bones, that this was just the beginning. the beginning of everything.

─˖· masterlist

it started out rough. no, rough was an understatement. it was a car crash in slow motion. you, the avengers’ newly hired public relations specialist, all sharp wit and sharper tongue, a whirlwind of deadlines, crisis management, and social media strategy. and him, james buchanan barnes, a ghost with a metal arm, a man so buried under layers of trauma and stoicism it was a miracle he could speak at all. he found your energy grating, your constant stream of chatter and chaotic movements an assault on his carefully constructed quiet. you found his perpetual silence and brooding presence a personal challenge, a brick wall you were determined to chip away at, if only out of spite.

tony had been annoyingly smug about hiring you. “we need someone who can handle our image,” he’d said, waving a tablet full of disastrous headlines. “someone who can keep us from looking like a walking PR nightmare.”

steve had frowned. “we’re not a brand, tony. we’re a team.”

bucky had muttered, “feels like a reality show,” under his breath.

tony ignored them both. “too bad. she starts monday.”

they hated the idea. steve because he didn’t like the thought of the team being “managed,” and bucky because he didn’t like the thought of being perceived at all. but tony was right. public support mattered. government support mattered. and someone had to keep the avengers from accidentally setting the internet on fire every other week.

tony, to his credit, had been weirdly kind about the whole thing. he’d insisted you move into the tower almost immediately, claiming it was “more efficient for workflow” but really because he knew you would start pulling eighteen‑hour days trying to keep the team’s image from spontaneously combusting. you’d protested at first, but he’d waved you off, muttering something about hazard pay and unlimited coffee. so you moved in, bright-eyed, caffeinated, and ready to fix everything. you had set up your little corner of the tower with your laptop and color‑coded digital planners, and tried not to feel too out of place among superheroes.

for the first several weeks bucky avoided you like you were a landmine.

he was grumpy about it too, in that very specific bucky barnes way where he never actually said anything but somehow managed to radiate irritation like a space heater. every time you walked into a room with your bright “good morning!” and your stack of color‑coded schedules, he would tense like you’d just thrown a grenade at him. you tried to be friendly, tried to make the whole “living with superheroes” thing less awkward, but he met every attempt with a grunt, a scowl, or a pointed exit. you were sunshine and caffeine and relentless optimism, and he was a thundercloud in combat boots who clearly wished you came with an off switch.

months in, nothing had changed.

"ugh! he's like a sentient, angry statue, and im nothing but nice to him," you'd complained to natasha one night, sprawled across her bed while she cleaned her knives with unnerving focus. “also, he makes my job ten times harder! i hate him.”

"he's been through a lot," she'd said, not looking up.

"so have i," you'd shot back. "i had to sit through tony’s three-hour lecture on brand consistency. i have trauma too." you joked.

natasha had just hummed, a small smile playing on her lips. 

steve would try to mediate, his earnest attempts at getting you two to ‘find common ground’ usually ending with you making a sarcastic comment and bucky retreating further into himself. sam just found the whole thing hilarious. "look at them," he'd whisper to clint, not so quietly, as you and bucky sat on opposite ends of the common room couch. "the grumpy cat and the little bird. it's a nature documentary."

but weeks turned into a month, and then two. the ice thawed, not with a grand gesture, but with a series of small, almost insignificant moments. it was you leaving a cup of coffee next to the book he was reading, not saying a word. it was him wordlessly moving a large stack of your paperwork from a chair so you could sit down. it was the day you'd been up for 36 hours straight preparing a press release and scheduling interviews, and you'd fallen asleep at the kitchen table. you woke up a few hours later with a blanket draped over your shoulders and a glass of water and two aspirin next to your head. you never saw him, but you knew.

"team bonding," you'd called it the first time you'd dragged him out of the tower. it was just a walk through central park, you chattering about everything and nothing, him listening with his hands shoved in his pockets, a noncommittal "hm" his only contribution. but he came. the next time, it was to a ridiculously obscure foreign film you wanted to see during your free time. he fell asleep ten minutes in, but he'd bought the popcorn. slowly, the grumpy statue started to look a little less like granite and a little more like a man who just needed a friend.

and then came the day you needed content.

not damage control. not rumor control. not a PR emergency.

just… content.

“we need something fun,” you’d told tony, scrolling through analytics. “something human. something that shows the team isn’t just doom and gloom.”

tony raised an eyebrow. “define fun.”

“a youtube video,” you said, already grinning. “the blind, deaf, and mute baking challenge. everyone seems to love it, so it might just help our case.”

tony stared at you. “you’re insane.”

“and you hired me,” you shot back smiling.

and that was how you found yourself setting up a tripod in the middle of the avenger tower’s ridiculously large kitchen, while sam wilson was trying to stick a piece of duct tape over his own mouth.

"i don't think this is going to stick," sam mumbled, his voice muffled by the tape.

"that's the point, sam," you said, adjusting the camera angle. "it's supposed to be a challenge. now, no more talking from you." you teased.

bucky was already sitting at the massive island, looking deeply unimpressed. he was fiddling with a pair of your oversized, hot pink, noise canceling headphones. "this is your idea of damage control?"

"this is my idea of good publicity," you corrected, grabbing a soft silk scarf from your pocket.

you filmed a quick little intro to explain the challenge. your bubbly personality being perfect for the camera as you introduced sam and bucky. 

"now, you're deaf. put those on. i've got my playlist queued up. it's... eclectic." you said smiling up at him.

he sighed, the sound long-suffering, but he put the headphones on. you hit play on your phone, connected via bluetooth, and the sound of sabrina carpenter blasting directly into his ears. you saw his eye twitch. perfect.

"and you," you said to yourself, tying the silk scarf securely around your eyes, plunging yourself into darkness. "are blind. okay, the camera's rolling. we're making chocolate chip cookies. the recipe is on the counter. let the chaos begin.” you spoke to yourself, knowing you would just edit this out later.

the kitchen was already a war zone, but somehow things got worse once you started mixing.

you reached for the bowl, hands sweeping blindly across the counter. bucky saw this and immediately panicked.

“wait— WAIT— you’re gonna knock it over!” he shouted, even though he couldn’t hear himself.

you froze. “bucky, i can’t see you. use your words.”

“i am using my words!” he yelled, arms full as he held ingredients in his hands. he frantically nodded towards the bowl as if that would help “the bowl! the bowl is— it’s— it’s somewhere near your elbow!”

“that’s not helpful!” you yelled back.

sam, who had given up on the tape entirely, made a strangled noise and grabbed your wrist, guiding it to the bowl before bucky had a meltdown.

“oh,” you said. “there it is.”

bucky put his hands on his hips. “i told you. i definitely told you.”

“you didn’t tell me anything,” you said. “you were just yelling the word ‘wait’ like i was about to detonate.”

“you were about to detonate,” he insisted, being able to read your lips. “that bowl is our last hope.”

you snorted. “dramatic.”

“you know I can read your lips right?” bucky pointed at his own chest. “super soldier. everything is dramatic.”

you rolled your eyes behind the blindfold and reached for the whisk. bucky watched you grab a spatula instead.

“no, no, no— wrong thing!” he shouted, leaning over the counter. “the whippy thing! the— the— the—”

sam slapped a whisk into his hand.

bucky blinked at it. “yes. this. the whippy thing.” he shoved it toward you. “use this.”

you felt something poke your arm. “is that… is that the whisk?”

“yes!” bucky said proudly.

you grabbed it. “okay. mixing.”

bucky nodded, satisfied—until he saw what was happening inside the bowl.

“no— no— you’re not mixing, you’re… stabbing it,” he said, annoyed. “why are you stabbing it.”

“i can’t see,” you reminded him.

“well i can’t hear,” he shot back, reading your lips, “but you don’t see me stabbing things.”

you paused. “bucky, you stab things all the time.”

he opened his mouth, closed it, not hearing what you said and not being able to respond.

sam made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a laugh.

you kept whisking—sort of—and bucky leaned closer, trying to supervise. “okay, okay, slower. slower. you’re gonna fling it everywhere.”

“if im not doing it correctly then you do it!” you snapped back, moving your hands away from the bowl and crossing your arms.

at this point sam was near the cabinet, quietly rummaging for more ingredients. 

“i can’t hear a word you’re saying,” bucky yelled, after he watched you speak.

you moved your head up, towards where you assumed he was standing. “bucky. look at my mouth.” you said pointing at your lips.

he leaned down, squinting like that would help.

“mix. the. ingredients,” you mouthed slowly.

bucky’s eyebrows shot up. “kiss the expedients?! WHY WOULD I KISS ANYTHING RIGHT NOW?!”

sam doubled over, wheezing.

you slapped your hand over your face. “mix! MIX!”

“oh!” bucky said, nodding. “mix. right. that makes more sense,” he grumbled.

he moved towards the bowl in one fluid motion, accidentally nudging you on the shoulder because you didn’t move, still not seeing a thing. you quickly stepped back, knocking a spoon onto the floor. he froze, staring at it like it had personally betrayed him.

“i didn’t do that,” he said immediately.

“you absolutely did. you nudged me!” you yelled, loud enough so he could hear you over the pop girl music in his ears.

“nope,” bucky insisted. “that was you… and gravity i guess. but mostly you.”

sam tapped your shoulder again, trying to warn you about something. 

“what sam? i can’t see a thing!” you retorted. you turned your head back, hearing the shuffling of what seemed to be a plastic bag. maybe the chocolate chips?

“i’ll add these,” bucky said confidently.

“bucky, wait—” sam tried to say, but it came out as a garbled mess.

bucky ripped the bag open like it was an enemy combatant. chocolate chips exploded everywhere—across the counter, the floor, your shirt, sam’s hair.

you gasped. “what was that?!”

sam pointed at bucky.

bucky pointed at the bag. “it attacked me!” he retorted.

“it did not attack you,” you said.

“it did,” he insisted, still managing to read your lips somehow. “it was aggressive. i defended myself.”

you reached out blindly and your hand landed on his arm. “bucky. you massacred the chocolate chips.”

he looked down at the mess in silence.

sam made a noise like he was choking on his own laughter.

you sighed dramatically. “okay. okay. we can still salvage this. maybe.”

bucky crouched down to pick up the chips, muttering, “five second rule,” even though he couldn’t hear himself say it.

“don’t put those back in the bowl!” you warned, loud enough for him to hear.

“i wasn’t going to,” he lied immediately.

sam snatched the handful from him.

bucky looked offended. “i was helping.”

“you’re doing great!” you yelled, patting the air until your hand landed on his shoulder. “chaotic, but great.”

he straightened a little at that, like he’d just been promoted.

“okay,” he said, rolling his shoulders back. “what’s next. what do we ruin now.”

you laughed. “hopefully nothing.”

“unlikely,” sam muttered.

bucky faking a nod of agreement because he heard absolutely nothing.

you all ended up successfully placing the cookies in the oven without burning the tower down. sam wiped the counters while you salvaged what you could of the used ingredients, and bucky, with his surprising steadiness, managed to actually help produce a decent batch of chocolate chip cookies, mostly by following the recipe like a normal person. by the time you were done, the kitchen smelled like chocolate and sugar, and the three of you were sitting on stools, munching on slightly lumpy but delicious cookies, a comfortable silence settling between you.

later that night, after a long, hot shower that washed away the flour and the stress of the day, you were sitting cross-legged on your bed, your laptop glowing softly in the dark room. it was well past midnight, the rest of the tower quiet. you were editing the video, your fingers flying across the keyboard, cutting out the boring parts and adding silly music and captions. you zoomed in on bucky's confused face as he tried to measure sugar with a liquid cup, added a "womp womp" sound effect when you dropped the flour, and put a giant question mark over sam's head when he was trying to mime instructions. it was perfect. it was ridiculous. but it was perfect, especially for the public.

a soft knock on your door made you jump. you glanced at the clock, 1:17 am.

"come in," you called softly, your voice hushed in the quiet.

the door creaked open and bucky peeked in, his hair messy, wearing just a simple grey t-shirt and sweats. he looked softer like this, less like the winter soldier and more like just... a guy. "couldn't sleep," he murmured, stepping inside and closing the door behind him.

"me neither," you said, patting the space on the bed next to you. "editing our masterpiece," you giggled quietly.

he sat down, his weight dipping the mattress, close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating from him. he leaned over to watch the screen, his shoulder brushing against yours. you tried to focus on the timeline, on the little clips of you all flailing around the kitchen, but all you could think about was the solid presence of him next to you, the clean, faint scent of his soap.

on the screen, sam was having his silent meltdown, and bucky let out another soft chuckle. "he looked like a distressed penguin."

you giggled, leaning your head against his shoulder for a moment. "he really did." the contact was fleeting, but it sent a jolt through you. you straightened up quickly, your cheeks feeling warm. you finished adding the last few touches to the video, a simple thumbnail: "avengers: baking challenge (fail)." your finger hovered over the 'post' button.

"you sure about this?" he asked, his voice quiet in the darkness.

"positive," you said, and clicked it. the video uploaded, a tiny spinning wheel appearing on the screen. "there. it's done. lets hope it does well"

you closed the laptop, plunging the room into near darkness, besides for the soft glow of the city lights through your window. you both sat there for a moment, the silence comfortable, easy. you could feel his gaze on you, but when you turned to look, his eyes were fixed on the window.

"thanks for today," he said, still looking away. "it was... fun."

"yeah," you agreed, your heart beating a little faster. "it was."

he finally turned to look at you, his blue eyes soft in the dim light. he reached up, his metal hand cool against your skin, and gently tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear. his fingers lingered for a second, tracing the line of your jaw. then he leaned in and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to your temple. it wasn't romantic, not really. it was just... sweet. a quiet acknowledgment of everything you'd become to each other.

you didn't say anything. you just closed your eyes, leaning into the touch. when you opened them, he was leaning back, a faint blush on his own cheeks. you both were oblivious, dancing around a feeling neither of you could name, content to just exist in this quiet moment.

"get some sleep," he said, his voice barely a whisper.

"you too," you replied.

he didn't get up. he just shifted, settling back against your pillows, his eyes already drifting closed. you watched him for a moment, his breathing evening out, his face relaxed in sleep. you felt your own eyelids getting heavy, the warmth of his body next to yours a comforting weight. you curled up on your side, your laptop forgotten at the foot of the bed, and let yourself drift off, the faint smell of chocolate chip cookies and the lingering warmth of his kiss on your temple the last things you registered before sleep took you.

─˖· masterlist

the silence between you and bucky barnes had become a physical thing. it had weight and texture, a suffocating blanket that had been slowly smothering you for three weeks. three weeks of empty hallways, of him turning corners the moment he saw you, of meals eaten at opposite ends of a table that suddenly felt a mile long. it was a stark, brutal contrast to the months before, when his quiet presence had been the most comforting thing in your new life at the tower.

you remembered the beginning so clearly. you’d moved in, a ghost, a secret weapon the team had plucked from the clutches of a colombian cartel who trained you. years of your life, stolen and twisted, had turned you into something sharp and deadly. you’d refused them at first, the idea of being anyone’s soldier again leaving a bitter taste in your mouth, but you’d watched the news, seen the world teetering on a precipice, and knew your skills could do more good than harm hiding away in some remote corner of the globe.

the tower had been intimidating at first. all that glass and steel, filled with gods and super-soldiers and men who built their own personal flying suits. you’d kept to yourself, your past making you wary of forming connections. bucky had been the most intimidating of all, a silent shadow with a haunted look in his eyes that mirrored your own. for the first month, you didn’t speak a single word to each other. you’d share space in the common room, a careful distance between you, two broken things trying not to shatter the others.

the ice broke over a batch of burned pancakes. it was your turn to cook breakfast, a simple task you’d thought you could manage. you’d gotten distracted, lost in a memory, and the smell of acrid sugar and blackened batter had filled the kitchen. you’d been frantically waving a dish towel at the shrieking smoke detector when a low chuckle cut through the chaos. you turned to see bucky leaning against the doorframe, a genuine, unguarded smile on his face. the sight of it hit you like a physical blow, so unexpected and warm.

“need a hand there, pyro?” he’d asked, his voice raspy from disuse.

something in you broke. a hysterical giggle escaped your lips, and then another, until you were laughing so hard you had to brace yourself against the counter. it wasn’t even that funny, but the release, the sheer absurdity of it, was overwhelming. he laughed with you, a deep, rumbling sound that felt like the first thaw of spring. from that moment on, you were inseparable.

he was the only one who understood the nightmares, the phantom pains of a past that wouldn’t let go. you’d spend hours talking in hushed tones in the dead of night, sharing stories that were too heavy for the light of day. those talks led to other things. stolen kisses in the training room, his lips tasting of mint and sweat. nights spent tangled in your sheets, his metal arm a cool, comforting weight on your hip, his touch chasing away the demons that haunted your sleep. he never treated you like you were fragile, but he handled you like you were precious. it was the safest you’d ever felt.

and then, three weeks ago, it all just stopped. no explanation. no fight. just a sudden, cold distance that left you reeling and more alone than you’d felt since you first arrived.

now, you sat in the sterile conference room, the holographic display in the center of the table painting a tactical map of tokyo in blue light. your first mission. it should have felt like a victory, a culmination of all your hard work and training. instead, it felt like a punishment.

“as you know,” steve was saying, his voice calm and steady, “we’ve intercepted intel on a major weapons exchange. the buyers are a high-level terrorist cell, the sellers are dealing in a new chemical agent. the location is a warehouse in the shibuya district.”

tony swiped a hand through the air, bringing up a 3d model of the target building. “the exchange is scheduled for 2200 hours. our objective is to hit them during the transaction, secure the chemical agent, and neutralize all hostiles. but,” he added, zooming in on the surrounding streets, “their security is no joke. they’ve got multiple patrols circulating the perimeter. highly mobile, heavily armed. we can’t get the strike team in without drawing their attention.”

he looked directly at you and bucky, and your stomach plummeted. “so, we need a diversion. a loud, flashy, and highly mobile one.”

steve’s gaze followed tony’s. “we need a pair to draw the patrols on a high-speed chase through the city, leading them as far away from the exchange site as possible. it needs to be convincing, and it needs to last until we’ve secured the warehouse. thankfully, we sent an anonymous tip their way so they know your car might give them trouble.”

your heart hammered against your ribs. you knew what was coming. you were the best shot on the team, your aim honed by years of brutal, unforgiving training. and bucky… well, bucky had learned to drive in a war, and he’d never forgotten how to handle a car like it was an extension of his own body.

“bucky, you’ll be driving,” steve said, confirming your fear. “your skills are unmatched for this kind of evasive maneuvering.” he turned to you. “and you’ll be his gunner. we need someone who can disable those vehicles without destroying them completely, and your precision is exactly what we need.”

you couldn’t bring yourself to look at bucky. you could feel his stillness from across the table, a palpable tension that radiated from him. for weeks, he had been a void where your friend used to be, and now you were supposed to trust him with your life. you were supposed to be a seamless unit, a well-oiled machine. the irony was so bitter it almost made you laugh.

“any questions?” steve asked, his eyes scanning the room.

silence. you just stared at the glowing blue map, your jaw tight.

“great,” tony said, clapping his hands together. “wheels up in two hours. try not to wreck the car. I kind of like that one.”

the meeting adjourned, and you were out of your chair before anyone else, needing to escape, to breathe. you practically fled to the quinjet hangar, needing to feel the open space, to prepare your gear and your mind for the mission without his suffocating presence nearby.

the sleek, black sports car sat waiting in the cargo hold, a beautiful machine designed for speed and destruction. you ran your hands over the cool metal, checking the mounted gun on the passenger side, the custom modifications tony had made. it was perfect. deadly. just like you.

you heard his footsteps before you saw him, a familiar tread that made your shoulders tense. you didn’t turn around.

“hey,” he said, his voice quiet.

you continued checking the ammo clip, your movements sharp and precise as your fingers glided over the gun. “barnes.” you state flatly.

he flinched at the formality. “look… we should talk before we head out.”

“don’t,” you cut him off, your voice dangerously low. “you can’t be serious… you’ve been avoiding me for weeks and you choose now, right before a mission, to suddenly talk to me? let’s just do our job and go back to ignoring each other afterward, yeah?” you snapped.

you finally risked a glance at him. the hurt on his face was plain, but it was quickly masked by the familiar, stoic mask of the winter soldier. he deserved it. every bit of it.

“right,” he said, his voice flat. “the mission.”

you nodded curtly and turned back to the car. “just stay out of my way, and i’ll stay out of yours. we’ll get it done.”

the quinjet ride to tokyo was thick with unspoken words. you sat as far away from him as possible, cleaning your weapons, going over the mission specs in your head, anything to keep from looking at him. but you could feel him watching you, his gaze a heavy weight you couldn’t shrug off.

by the time the jet landed and you and bucky had driven the car off the large jet, night had fallen over tokyo. the city was a dazzling blur of neon and rain, the lights bleeding across the wet pavement. bucky drove with an unnerving calm, weaving through traffic with an effortless precision that was almost beautiful. you were supposed to be the bait, as you drove by the marked location, you’d found your tail almost immediately. two black suvs immediately recognized the car, their engines roaring as they closed in on you.

“here we go,” bucky murmured, his hands tightening on the wheel.

“let’s give them a show,” you replied, your voice all business.

he gunned the engine, and the car leaped forward, a surge of adrenaline shooting through your veins. the chase was on. he drove like a man possessed, taking corners on two wheels, threading through impossibly small gaps, using the cityscape as his personal playground. the suvs stayed with you, their headlights cutting through the rain.

“ready?” he called over the roar of the engine.

“born ready,” you shot back, rolling down your window.

the cold, wet air whipped past you as you climbed halfway out, bracing yourself against the door. you raised your rifle, the scope a familiar comfort against your eye. you found the lead suv, aimed for the engine block, and squeezed the trigger. the shot was true. the car swerved, smoke billowing from the hood, but it kept coming.

“nice shot,” bucky grunted, rolling his eyes at your near-perfect aim, all while swerving to avoid a taxi.

“you ain’t seen nothing yet,” you muttered under your breath, taking aim again.

you took out the second suv's radiator, a plume of steam erupting into the night. it fishtailed, slowing considerably, but the first one was still on you, relentless. the chase was a violent symphony of squealing tires, roaring engines, and the percussive beat of your rifle fire. you were a well-oiled machine, just as steve had wanted, but the silence between you was a grinding, dissonant chord.

“more coming up on your left!” bucky grunted, looking through his mirrors to see more cars joining the chase. he wrenched the wheel hard to the right. the car skidded, the back end sliding out in a controlled drift that sent you slamming against the door frame. “two of ‘em. i can’t shake them on this side.”

you swore under your breath, ducking back into the car to reload. your back was facing the dashboard as you glanced out his window, you saw them. a sleek sedan and another suv, flanking you, matching your speed. there was no clean shot from your side. you were exposed.

“hold on,” you said, your voice tight.

“what are you—”

you didn’t give him time to finish. you threw your rifle onto the back seat, ignoring his shocked look. in one fluid, practiced motion, you swung your leg over the center console, straddling his lap. the shift in weight made the car lurch, but he corrected it instantly, his hands steady on the wheel.

“what the hell are you doing?” he ground out, his eyes wide as you settled against him, your chest pressed to his. the position was intimate, explosive, and utterly insane.

“i can’t get a shot from my side,” you yelled, pulling your sidearm from its holster. you braced one hand on the top of his doorframe, the other on his shoulder, and leaned out his window. the wind and rain lashed at your face. Your eyes flickered down quickly to where he was driving, him looking straight at you, “eyes on the fucking road barnes!” you yelled as he swerved quickly to avoid hitting an object in the street. The car jutted, making you fall back onto his lap.

for a second, he was frozen beneath you, the heat of his body seeping through your tactical gear. then, with a low growl that was pure frustration and something else you couldn’t name, he complied. the car surged forward, and you took aim at the sedan.

the first shot shattered the driver’s side window. the second blew out a front tire. the car spun out, crashing into a barrier. one down. the suv, however, was more persistent. it swerved behind you, and you knew you couldn’t get a clean angle.

the anger you’d been bottling for three weeks finally erupted. “you know what, bucky? this is just like old times! except for the part where you actually talk to me!” you shouted over the wind, firing another shot that ricocheted harmlessly off the suv’s armored frame.

“i’m driving!” he yelled back, his knuckles white on the steering wheel as he took a sharp turn down a narrow alley.

“no, you’re avoiding me! you’ve been avoiding me for weeks! what the hell did i do?” the words were torn from you, raw and painful. “was it bad? did i do something wrong? just tell me!” you said, trying to steady your aim on the car.

the suv rammed your bumper, and the car jolted hard. you were thrown back against his chest, his metal arm automatically coming up to brace your waist, holding you steady. the touch was electric, a painful reminder of what you’d lost.

“it’s not you!” he finally roared, the sound ripped from his throat. he swerved again, narrowly missing a stack of pallets. “it was never you!”

“then what?” you demanded, both frustrated that he wouldn’t give you an answer and annoyed that you couldn’t shoot the chasing suv. “what was it, bucky? you can’t just… you can’t just kiss me like you mean it and then vanish! you don’t get to do that to me!” you yelled quickly moving out of this lap, back onto your seat, now that the suv was directly behind yours.

“i was trying to keep you safe!” he blurted out, the words bursting from him like a dam breaking. he took a corner so hard you were sure the car would flip, his driving growing more erratic, more desperate. “from me!”

the confession hung in the air, stunning you into silence. you stared at him, his profile sharp and illuminated by the passing neon lights. he looked tormented, his jaw clenched so tightly you thought it might break.

“safe?” you repeated, your voice barely a whisper, laced with incredulity. a bitter, humorless laugh escaped your lips. “you were trying to keep me safe? by ignoring me? by acting like i don’t exist? that’s your grand plan for my safety?” you retorted as you took two shots out your window.

“i’m a monster!” he shot back, his voice cracking. “everything i touch, i ruin! my past… it’s not just history, it’s a goddamn curse. and then this mission… your first one… i knew they’d pair us together. i knew i’d have to watch you walk into danger, and i couldn’t… i can’t be the reason you get hurt. i can’t be the weakness that gets you killed.”

the suv was still there, a relentless predator. you raised your gun, your hands shaking now for an entirely different reason. “you think i don’t know what it’s like to have a past?” you yelled, your body half out the window. your voice thick with emotion. “you think my hands are clean? i was a child soldier for a cartel, bucky! i was trained to be a weapon before i could even drive! i have done… things… that will haunt me forever. don’t you dare stand there and tell me you’re protecting me from your darkness. i’ve been living in the dark my whole fucking life!”

you finally got your shot. the suv swerved, exposing its fuel tank. you fired three rounds in quick succession. the car exploded in a ball of fire, the force of it pushing your car forward. bucky slammed on the brakes, as you sunk back into your seat, the tires screaming as the car skidded to a halt in the middle of the empty alley.

silence descended, broken only by the sound of your ragged breaths and the crackle of flames from the wrecked vehicle. the adrenaline was fading, leaving a raw, trembling ache in its place.

he looked at you, really looked at you, and the mask of the winter soldier was gone. all that was left was bucky. broken, beautiful, bucky. his blue eyes were swimming with regret, shining with unshed tears.

“fuck” he whispered, his voice hoarse. running a shaky hand through his hair. “i’m fucking idiot. i was so scared of my past hurting you, i didn’t stop to think about how i was hurting you myself.” his metal hand tightened around the wheel, the car still completely stopped. “i’m so, so sorry, doll. i pushed away the best thing in my life because i was a coward.” he said looking down towards the steady wheel.

the fight drained out of you, leaving you feeling hollowed out and exhausted. “don’t do that again,” you murmured. “don’t ever push me away again. we face our demons together, remember? that was the deal.”

“i remember,” he said softly. his eyes finally looking up to meet yours “i won’t. i promise.”

he leaned in, across the center console and this time, the kiss wasn’t like the others. it wasn’t stolen or secret. it wasn’t born of desperation or comfort. it was a declaration. it was messy and desperate and full of the rain and the smoke and the taste of apology. it was a kiss that said ‘i’m here’ and ‘i’m not leaving’.

when you finally pulled apart, your foreheads resting together, the comms in your ear crackled to life.

“diversion team, what’s your status?” steve’s voice was crisp and professional. “the exchange is secured.”

bucky looked at you, a small, tired smile playing on his lips. he keyed the comms. “sorry, cap. had a little car trouble. we’re en route now. five minutes out.”

the ride back to the quinjet was different. the silence was no longer a void; it was filled with unspoken understanding. his hand found yours, his fingers lacing with yours, a silent, steadfast promise.

the debriefing was a blur of congratulations and back-slapping. tony was already gloating about his car’s performance, sam was making jokes about bucky’s driving, and steve was giving you both a proud nod but you and bucky only had eyes for each other.

as the team dispersed, heading towards the common room for celebratory drinks and the rest of the debriefing, bucky caught your arm. he didn’t say a word, just tilted his head towards the service elevator. you knew exactly what he meant. you slipped away from the group, unnoticed in the post-mission excitement, and stepped into the empty elevator.

the moment the doors closed, he was on you. he pushed you against the wall, his body pressing into yours, his mouth finding yours in a hungry, desperate kiss. all the weeks of pent-up longing, all the fear and regret, poured into it. his hands were everywhere, one tangling in your hair, the other gripping your hip, pulling you closer.

“bucky,” you gasped as his lips moved to your neck, his teeth scraping your sensitive skin. “not here.”

“my room,” he growled against your skin. “now.”

the elevator doors opened on his floor, and you two practically ran down the hall, him fumbling with the keycard to his room. the door clicked open, and you both stumbled inside, kicking it shut behind you. his room was dark and sparse, a mirror of the man himself but right now, it was the only place you wanted to be in.

Once the door clicked shut, the sound echoed in the quiet room. before you could even register the darkness, his hands were on you again, turning you, pressing you back against the cool wood of the door. his mouth claimed yours with a ferocity that stole your breath, a desperate, hungry kiss that was three weeks of silence and longing given form. there was no gentleness here, only a raw, primal need to close the distance he had so cruelly created.

“bucky,” you gasped, your hands fisting in the fabric of his tac suit, pulling him impossibly closer. you needed to feel him, all of him, to erase the memory of the cold emptiness he had left you with.

“god, i missed you,” he groaned against your lips, the words a ragged confession. his metal hand was cool against your heated skin as he slid it under your shirt, his fingers splaying across the small of your back, holding you flush against him. “every second. i was so stupid.”

“yeah, you were,” you breathed, but there was no heat in it, only a desperate relief. you arched into him, a silent invitation he didn’t hesitate to accept.

he lifted you effortlessly, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carried you away from the door. the world became a blur of motion, his mouth never leaving yours, a frantic, messy dance of lips and teeth and tongue. he didn’t bother with the lights. the only illumination came from the city skyline bleeding through his massive window, painting the room in strokes of silver and blue. he laid you down on his bed, the sheets cool against your back, and finally, finally, pulled back just enough to look at you.

his eyes were dark, the blue almost completely swallowed by the black of his pupils. he looked at you like he was starving, and you were the only thing that could satisfy him. “i’m going to make it up to you,” he promised, his voice a low, rough rumble that vibrated through you. “let me show you.”

you just nodded, your throat too tight to speak. he knelt over you, his movements deliberate now, a stark contrast to the frantic energy from moments before. he reached for the zipper of your tac suit, his fingers brushing against your collarbone. the sound of the metal teeth parting was obscenely loud in the quiet room. he peeled the heavy fabric away, his gaze following his hands, feeling every inch of skin he exposed.

he took his time, mapping the landscape of your body with his lips and tongue. he kissed the scars on your arms, the ones you were so self-conscious of, his touch so gentle it made your eyes burn. he traced the line of your ribs, the curve of your hips, his mouth leaving a trail of fire in its wake. he wasn’t just touching you; he was relearning you, committing you to memory all over again.

when his mouth finally closed over your breast, you cried out, your back arching off the bed. your fingers tangled in his hair, holding him to you as he lavished attention on you, his tongue swirling around your peaked nipple before he gently bit down. the pleasure was sharp, exquisite, a jolt of electricity that shot straight to your core.

“bucky, please,” you begged, your hips rising to meet his, seeking the friction you so desperately craved.

he lifted his head, a wicked smirk playing on his lips. “patience, doll. i’ve got three weeks to make up for, remember?”

he moved lower, his mouth tracing a path down your stomach, his metal hand holding your hips still when you tried to squirm. he hooked his fingers into the waistband of your pants, pulling them down along with your underwear in one smooth motion. he tossed them aside, his eyes fixed on the part of you that was weeping for him.

“so beautiful,” he murmured, more to himself than to you. and then he lowered his head and his mouth was on you.

you cried out, your hands flying to his head, your fingers tangling in his soft hair as his tongue delved into your folds. he ate you out with a single-minded intensity, his tongue circling your clit before he sucked it into his mouth, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your entire body. he knew exactly how to touch you, exactly how to drive you wild, and he used that knowledge mercilessly. he slid one finger, then two, inside you, his metal digits cool against your slick heat as he curled them, finding that spot inside you that made you see stars.

the pressure built, a tight coil in your stomach winding tighter and tighter with every stroke of his tongue, every thrust of his fingers. “bucky, i’m… i’m close,” you panted, your hips rocking against his face.

“come for me,” he commanded, his voice vibrating against you. “let me hear you.”

that was all it took. the coil snapped, and your orgasm crashed over you, a wave of pure, unadulterated pleasure so intense it stole your breath. you cried out his name, your body convulsing as you rode out the waves of your release, his mouth and fingers working you through every last spasm.

he didn’t give you a chance to recover. he moved over you, his body a hard, heavy weight that you welcomed. he was still fully dressed, the rough fabric of his suit a delicious friction against your sensitive skin. he kissed you, and you could taste yourself on his lips, a heady, intimate flavor that made you moan.

“you with me?” he asked, his voice rough with desire.

“always,” you breathed, your hands moving to the zipper of his own suit. you needed him inside you, needed to feel him, to be joined with him in the most fundamental way. 

you fumbled with the zipper, your hands shaking with need, and he helped you, shrugging out of the top half of the suit before kicking off his pants. he was magnificent, all hard muscle and scars, a testament to the life he’d lived. his cock was hard and heavy, curving up towards his stomach, a bead of moisture glistening at the tip.

he positioned himself at your entrance, his eyes locked on yours. “i love you,” he said, the words a raw, vulnerable truth. “i was an idiot, and i was scared, but i love you. i should have told you that before.”

tears pricked your eyes, but this time they weren’t from anger or hurt. “i love you too, you idiot.” you whispered quietly.

he grinned, a real, genuine, breathtaking grin that made your heart do a stupid little flip and then he pushed into you, sinking into your heat in one slow, deep stroke. you both groaned at the sensation, the perfect, rightness of it. he filled you completely, stretching you in a way that was both overwhelming and utterly perfect. his head falling onto your shoulder.

he started to move, his strokes slow and deep at first, a deliberate rhythm that built the pleasure all over again. he watched you as he moved, his eyes dark and intense, his gaze never leaving yours. it was too much, too intimate, and you had to look away, your head falling back against the pillows

“no,” he grunted, his hand coming up to cup your chin, forcing you to look at him. “eyes on me. i want to see you.”

you met his gaze, and the connection between you was so powerful it was almost painful. he increased his pace, his movements becoming harder, faster, more demanding. the sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, mingling with your breathless moans and his low, guttural grunts. he hooked one of your legs over his arm, changing the angle, and he drove into you deeper, hitting that spot inside you that made you see stars.

“bucky,” you cried out, your nails digging into his shoulders.

“fuck” he growled, his rhythm becoming erratic, his thrusts losing their smoothness as he chased his own release. “come with me. one more time, doll.”

he reached between you, his thumb finding your clit, and he rubbed it in tight, circles. that was all it took. your orgasm ripped through you, even more powerful than the last, and you screamed his name, your body clamping down around him as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you. he followed you over the edge with a hoarse cry, his body shuddering as he spilled himself inside you, his hips jerking against yours as he emptied himself into you.

he collapsed on top of you, his body a heavy, welcome weight, his face buried in the crook of your neck. you were both breathing heavily, your hearts hammering against your ribs. you lay like that for a long time, just holding each other, your bodies slick with sweat and the remnants of your passion.

after a while, he rolled off you, pulling you into his arms, your head resting on his chest. his heartbeat was a steady, reassuring rhythm against your ear. the city lights twinkled outside the window, a silent witness to your reunion.

“we’re going to be in so much trouble for missing the rest of the debriefing,” you murmured, a contented smile playing on your lips.

he chuckled, the sound a low, rumbling vibration in his chest. “worth it,” he said as he pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head. “so worth it.”

you looked up at him, your eyes meeting his in the dim light. “yeah,” you agreed, your heart full. “it really was.”

─˖· masterlist

ONE SHOTS

˖· Tuesday Night Secrets [4.6k] ꩜

─ avenger!bucky x avenger!f!reader

you and bucky barnes have always been an odd match, but somehow the two of you fit together better than anyone expects. between shared routines, quiet moments, and the kind of chemistry everyone else notices before you do, one unexpected night pushes your friendship into something softer and far more complicated. a tiny kitten, a secret tradition, and a very chaotic morning in the tower finally bring the truth to the surface.

˖· A Mission Apology [4.9k] 𖤐༄

─ avenger!bucky x avenger!f!reader

you and bucky barnes were never meant to cross paths, yet a smoky kitchen mishap turned silence into friendship and friendship into something neither of you talked about. now, with your past still hidden from the world and your first mission pulling you straight into danger beside the one person you’ve been trying not to miss, the tension between you finally snaps. in the chaos of a high‑speed diversion and everything left unsaid, the truth you’ve both been avoiding refuses to stay buried.

˖· Blind, Deaf, & Mute [2.9k] ꩜

─ avenger!bucky x PRspecialist!f!reader

you are hired as the avengers’ new public relations specialist, a sunshine‑bright force dropped into a tower full of exhausted superheroes and one very grumpy former assassin. bucky barnes wants nothing to do with you, and you seem determined to befriend him anyway. what starts as mutual annoyance slowly shifts into something softer as the two of you stumble through awkward teamwork, unexpected moments, and one disastrously chaotic baking challenge that proves the avengers might actually be a family after all.

˖· Neon Lights and Ferris Wheel Rides [8.2k] ꩜

─  junior!bucky x sophomore!f!reader

you head to a famous carnival with your lifelong best friends, steve and bucky, expecting nothing but rides and sugar, only to find bucky brought another girl along. the night twists through neon lights, sharp comments, unexpected jealousy, and bucky defending you when you least expect it. when steve heads out early, you and bucky end up alone under the glowing sky, stumbling into soft moments, shared thrills, and a spark that feels impossible to ignore.

MUSIC SERIES

˖· We Almost Broke Up Again Last Night [2.9k] ༄𖤐

─  pre-wakanda!bucky x f!reader

your relationship feels like it’s coming apart, held together only by the hope and intimacy you’re still clinging to. bucky keeps pulling away from you, haunted by his past, by the people he hurt, by the fear that the darkness in him might spill onto you. he loves you deeply, but he’s convinced that loving you is dangerous. so he tries to let you go before he believes he’ll ruin you too.

─˖·navigation

you and bucky are the tower's most unlikely duo.

not because you're a stark and he's the winter soldier, though that's part of it. it's because you're all bright, chaotic energy and he's quiet, steady, calm. you're a supernova and he's the still, deep space that contains it. somehow, it works. perfectly.

you were the one who cracked him open, not with force, but with persistence. you didn't treat him like a fragile artifact or a lethal weapon. you just... treated him like bucky. you'd plop down next to him on the common room couch, steal his fries, and complain about your business law professor with the same breath you'd ask if he wanted to watch a documentary about deep-sea creatures.

he'd grumble, of course. a low "hm" or "don't want to" was his default. but he'd always stay. he'd watch the documentaries. he'd listen to your rants, and slowly, the grumbling turned into quiet hums of agreement, then into actual sentences. now, he'll debate with you about the logistics of deep-sea exploration and offer to help you study for business marketing by quizzing you with flashcards he makes himself.

your friendship is built on a foundation of shared mischief. you're the mastermind, he's the surprisingly willing accomplice. you once replaced all of sam's wingpack gear with glitter-filled replicas. bucky's job was to create a diversion so you could make the switch. his diversion? challenging sam to an arm-wrestling match in the middle of the kitchen. it was glorious. you've superglued clint's arrows to their quiver, put pink dye in steve's shampoo (which, to everyone's disappointment, just made his hair look shinier and blonder), and convinced natasha that a new, highly sensitive alarm system had been installed in the gym, forcing her to move in exaggerated slow motion for an entire afternoon before you both burst out laughing.

bucky's laugh is rare, a deep, rumbling thing that feels like a personal victory every time you coax it out of him.

and then there's the nyu thing. you're tony stark's daughter, but you're not just riding on his name. you're brilliant. top of your class at stern, a whiz with numbers and strategy, a natural-born leader who just happens to be able to recite the entire history of the avengers initiative. you're a dedicated student, and you actually enjoy going to your classes.

which means bucky walks you to class.

it started as a security thing, a tony-mandated precaution that bucky, with his stealth and observation skills, was perfect for. it quickly became your ritual. he'd wait for you by the tower's private entrance, an iced vanilla latte in his hand for you, his own black coffee in the other. the walk through washington square park became your time. you'd talk about everything and nothing. your classes, the latest missions, the terrible music someone was blasting from their apartment, the way the sun hit the leaves.

of course, two famous faces walking through nyc every day doesn't go unnoticed. the tabloids had a field day. "stark heir and winter soldier: nyc's hottest power couple?" read one headline. another featured a blurry photo of him handing you the coffee, captioned "secret lovers' rendezvous?" you and bucky found it hilarious. you'd read the articles out loud to each other, adding your own dramatic commentary.

"oh, bucky, darling, our secret is out!" you'd swoon dramatically against his shoulder.

"guess we'll have to go public," he'd deadpan, a smirk playing on his lips. "friday, start planning the press conference."

you're not dating. you're just... you and bucky. you're oblivious to the way his eyes soften when you laugh, and he's oblivious to the way your heart does a little flip when he remembers exactly how you take your coffee. everyone else sees it, though. natasha gives you these knowing looks. sam makes obnoxious kissing noises whenever you're in the same room. tony just sighs and mutters about "potential property damage" whenever bucky is near his daughter.

tonight is different, though. it's tuesday, which means it's your night. your secret. the one thing you do that's just for you, completely separate from being a stark, avenger, or a public-figure.

you're pulling on a worn-in nyu sweatshirt and some jeans, a yankees cap on your head, and grabbing your tote bag from the hook by your door, when a quiet voice makes you jump.

"where are you going?"

you spin around. bucky is leaning against your doorframe, right outside your cracked open door, arms crossed over his chest. he's wearing a simple black henley and jeans, his hair slightly messy. he looks... soft. domestic.

"jesus, bucky! you're like a cat." you clutch your chest. "i'm just going out."

"it's almost nine." he pushes off the doorframe, his brow furrowed slightly. "and it's raining. where do you go on tuesday nights?"

you hesitate. you love your secret. the shelter is your sanctuary, a place where you're not ‘tony stark's daughter’ you're just the girl who's ‘really good at socializing the scaredy-cats’ you're just a volunteer.

"it's nothing," you say, a little too quickly. "just an... errand."

he tilts his head, his blue eyes narrowing just a fraction. he knows you're lying. he always knows. "it's raining," he says again, his voice lower. "i don't want you walking around the city alone in the dark. in the rain."

you sigh, knowing you're not going to win this one. and a small, traitorous part of you is actually happy about it. "i can take care of myself, you know."

"i know," he says, stepping closer. "humor me."

so you tell him. you explain about the "paws and reflect" shelter, a small, underfunded place in the east village that takes in the hardest cases. the cats no one else wants. you explain how you started volunteering there a year ago, looking for something normal to do with your hands, something that wasn't studying or saving the world.

he listens intently, his expression unreadable. when you finish, he just nods.

"can i come?" he asks.

your eyes widen. "what? no. it's my thing."

"i know," he says softly. "but it's late, and it's raining, and i don't want you going alone. i won't get in the way. i'll just... sit in the corner. i promise." he looks so earnest, so genuinely concerned, that you feel your resolve crumbling.

"fine," you grumble, grabbing your keys. "but if you scare any of the cats, i'm leaving you out on the streets."

the rain is a light, persistent drizzle, blurring the city lights into watercolor smears as you drive. driving in the city is always a pain, and you’re not very good at it, but you insisted on driving, not trusting bucky's "i learned in the 40s" driving skills in manhattan traffic. he doesn't argue, just slides into the passenger seat of your sensible yet stylish suv, the one tony bought you for your "safety." you never really wanted it, not from ungratefulness, but because you never liked driving. except, after the avengers became public figures, taxis were not much of an option.

the shelter is tucked away on a quiet side street, a small storefront with a hand-painted sign of a cat chasing its tail. the inside smells faintly of antiseptic and... well, cat. but it's a warm, comforting smell. rachel, the night manager, looks up from behind the front desk, her face breaking into a warm smile when she sees you.

"hey! you're a little later than usual." her eyes flick to bucky, who's hovering awkwardly by the door, looking like a 200-pound assassin who's accidentally wandered into a knitting circle. her smile widens. "and you brought a friend."

"rachel, this is bucky," you say, trying to sound casual. "bucky, this is rachel. she keeps this place from falling apart."

"nice to meet you," bucky says, his voice quiet. he offers a small, polite nod.

"you too," rachel says, her eyes twinkling. "any friend of our best volunteer is a friend of ours. she's a miracle worker, you know. got oliver to come out from under the bed last week. he's been there for six months."

you feel a flush of pride. "he just needed to know someone wasn't going to grab at him."

"well, you're the only one he'll let near him," rachel says, shoving a clipboard at you. "usual chores. litter boxes need changing, food and water top-ups. it's pretty quiet tonight, most of the adoptions were done this afternoon."

you loved this shelter because it offered you a profound sense of normalcy. here, you weren't some untouchable figure to be revered; you were just another pair of hands, given tasks and told where to help. it was a complete escape from your reality.

you take the clipboard and turn to bucky. "okay. so, the rule is, move slowly. no sudden movements. let them come to you. don't stare. blink slowly. it's like... cat sign language for 'i'm not a threat'."

he nods, his expression serious, like you're giving him mission briefing. "slow movements. no staring. got it."

you lead him through the facility. it's not fancy, but it's clean and warm. rows of crates and pens line the walls, each containing a cat or two. some are sleeping, curled into tight balls of fur. others watch you with wide, curious eyes. a few hiss from the back of their cages, a low, warning sound.

you hand bucky a scoop and a bag of food. "you're on food and water duty. i'll handle the... less glamorous stuff."

he takes the scoop without complaint, his eyes already scanning the room, assessing it with the same focus he'd use on a recon mission. it's almost funny, seeing the winter soldier treat a bag of dry kibble with such solemn gravity.

you get to work. the rhythmic scrape of the scoop against the bottom of food bowls mixes with the quiet meows and the distant rumble of the city. you're in your element here, moving from cage to cage, speaking in soft, murmuring tones. "hello, jasmine. you look beautiful today. here you go, mittens. dinner is served."

bucky is surprisingly good at this. he's quiet, his movements economical and precise. he doesn't try to pet any of the cats, just fills their bowls and refills their water, his presence a calm, non-threatening constant. you watch him out of the corner of your eye as you finish cleaning the last litter box. he's crouched in front of a cage containing a huge, grumpy-looking orange tabby who is famous for swatting at anyone who comes near.

"his name is garfield," you whisper, walking over to stand beside him. "and he lives up to it. don't take it personally if he tries to take your hand off."

bucky doesn't look at you. his focus is entirely on the cat. he slowly extends his hand, not to pet, but just to rest near the bars of the cage, palm up. garfield flattens his ears, lets out a low growl. bucky doesn't flinch. he just stays there, a silent, steady offering. after a long moment, garfield relaxes, just a fraction. he inches forward, sniffing the air near bucky's fingers.

"see?" bucky murmurs, his voice barely audible. "he's just scared."

your heart does that stupid little flip again. he's not just looking at a stray cat; he's seeing a reflection of himself. of something that's been hurt and is lashing out because it doesn't know how to be gentle anymore.

"yeah," you say softly. "he is."

you finish the chores in comfortable silence, the only sounds the soft padding of your feet on the linoleum and the distant purr of a contented cat. the shelter feels different with him here. not invaded, but... shared. like a secret you didn't know you wanted to tell.

"okay, that's the last of it," you say, wiping your hands on your jeans. "we just have to wait for rachel to do her final rounds and then we can go."

you lean against the counter, and bucky leans next to you, his shoulder just a breath away from yours. the space between you feels charged, warm. the rain outside has picked up, tapping a gentle rhythm against the window.

"you're really good with them," you say, breaking the quiet.

"they're simple," he replies, his gaze fixed on the rows of sleeping cats. "they don't want anything from you except a little patience and some food. no ulterior motives."

"unlike people," you say, a wry smile touching your lips.

"unlike most people," he corrects gently, and he glances at you when he says it, and the look in his eyes is so open, so sincere, it makes your breath catch. "not you, though."

you feel your cheeks heat up, and you suddenly find the floor pattern absolutely fascinating. "well, i mean, i do occasionally want to steal your fries."

a low chuckle rumbles in his chest. "that's different. that's... friendly fire." he teases.

you laugh, and the sound feels too loud in the quiet shelter. you both fall silent again, but it's not awkward. it's... nice. it's the kind of quiet you can sink into.

"why this place?" he asks after a moment. "why not a big, fancy shelter? you could get your dad to fund one, name it after you, the whole nine yards." 

you shrug, picking at a loose thread on your sweatshirt. "that's the thing. i didn't want it to be about me. i didn't want to be 'tony stark's daughter, the philanthropist.'” you said exaggerating and nodding. “i just wanted to be... me. scooping litter boxes. i don't know. it feels real. here, i'm not a nepobaby or an avenger. i'm the girl who knows that oliver under the bed prefers pâté to chunks." you said jokingly.

he's watching you again, that intense, focused gaze that makes you feel like you're the only person in the world. "you're not a nepobaby," he says, his voice firm.

"bucky, i literally got into nyu because my dad has a building named after him there."

"you're at the top of your class," he counters. "your dad's name doesn't get you a's on your exams. you do that."

the way he says it, with such absolute conviction, makes something warm and gooey spread through your chest. you're used to people dismissing your accomplishments, assuming they're handed to you. bucky never has. he's the one who stays up with you when you're cramming for finals, quizzing you until you can recite business economic principles in your sleep.

"thanks," you mumble, feeling uncharacteristically shy.

"it's just the truth," he says simply.

you're about to say something else, something equally sappy and out of character, when a tiny sound cuts through the quiet. it's not a meow. it's more of a squeak. a pathetic, little mew.

you both turn toward the sound. it's coming from the last pen in the row, the one usually reserved for new intakes that need to be kept isolated. you walk over, bucky right behind you.

inside, all by herself, is the tiniest kitten you've ever seen. she's pure white, with fur so fluffy she looks like a little cloud. one of her ears is folded over, and she has the biggest, bluest eyes you've ever seen in your life. she's shivering, her whole body trembling, and she lets out another pathetic little mew.

"oh, you poor thing," you coo, automatically unlatching the cage door. "where did you come from?"

bucky crouches down beside you, his expression softening into something you've never seen before. it's pure, unadulterated awe. "she's so small."

you reach in slowly, letting the kitten sniff your fingers. she hesitates, then butts her tiny head against your hand, purring a motorboat rumble that seems way too big for her little body. you gently scoop her up, cradling her against your chest. she immediately burrows into your sweatshirt, her tiny claws kneading the fabric.

"she was probably abandoned," you say, stroking her soft fur. "she can't be more than a few weeks old."

bucky reaches out with his flesh hand, his movements impossibly gentle, and strokes the kitten's head with one finger. the kitten looks up at him, blinks slowly, and then licks his finger. a smile breaks across his face. a real, genuine, breathtaking smile that reaches all the way to his eyes.

"she likes you," you whisper, your own smile matching his.

"yeah," he breathes, his eyes glued to the tiny creature in your arms. "she's... perfect."

you both just stare at her for a long time, completely mesmerized. she's a tiny, fluffy ball of perfection, and in that moment, you both fall completely, irrevocably in love.

"we should name her," bucky says, his voice still hushed.

"alpine," you say immediately, the name popping into your head without thinking.

he looks up at you, his blue eyes wide. "alpine?"

"yeah," you say, a little embarrassed. "it's just... she's white, like snow. and it feels... peaceful. you know?"

a slow smile spreads across his face. "yeah," he says softly. "i do know."

you're both still staring at the kitten, who has now fallen asleep in your arms, when the reality of the situation starts to dawn on you. this tiny, perfect creature is here, in this shelter, and she needs a home. your home.

"bucky," you say slowly, your eyes meeting his. "what are we going to do?"

he knows exactly what you mean. the smile fades from his face, replaced by a look of pure panic. "the tower," he says, his voice a horrified whisper. "your dad."

"and steve," you add, your own voice rising in panic. "he'll probably have an allergic reaction just from looking at her." i guess the super-serum doesn’t take away all weaknesses

"and natasha will try to train her to be an assassin," bucky says, his eyes wide with terror. "sam will try to put her in a tiny flight suit."

"and my dad will build her a $50 million robotic litter box that will probably try to take over the world," you laugh, the full, horrifying weight of your decision crashing down on you.

you look at each other, the same manic, determined gleam in your eyes. it's the same look you get right before you execute a really good prank.

"we're doing it, aren't we?" you ask, a grin already spreading across your face.

he looks down at the sleeping kitten, then back at you, and a slow, dangerous grin spreads across his face. it's the grin he gets right before he agrees to one of your terrible, wonderful ideas.

"yeah," he says, his voice filled with a terrifying resolve. "we're doing it."

the next twenty minutes are a blur of covert operations. you sign the adoption papers with a speed that would make a cheetah jealous, scribbling your name on the dotted line while rachel gives you a knowing look and a small cardboard carrier.

"be good to her," she says, her voice warm.

"we will," you and bucky say in unison, which makes you both pause and exchange a look. it's too synchronized. too domestic.

the drive back to the tower is the most nerve-wracking experience of your life, and that's saying a lot considering you once watched your dad fly a nuke into a wormhole. you finally let bucky drive. alpine is awake now, mewing pitifully from her carrier on your lap.

"shhh, shhh, it's okay," you whisper, peeking through the little air holes. "we're almost home."

Bucky keeps glancing in the mirrors, tapping a nervous rhythm on the dashboard. "Alright, so what's our cover story if we get stopped?" he asks with a grin. "I give it thirty seconds before Friday's assembling a strike team. Or should we just go with the truth and hope your dad doesn't kill us?"

"He won't kill us," you say, rolling your eyes playfully. "It's just a... a project. For my, uh, biology class. Very hands-on. he’ll appreciate the educational aspect” you add, nodding and shrugging.

"a project with fur and claws that sheds," bucky corrects grimly.

you use your private entrance, the one that leads directly to the residential elevators, bypassing the common areas and the main lobby. it's late, past midnight, so you're praying everyone is either asleep or on a mission. the elevator ride up to your floor is silent and tense. you hold the carrier, and bucky stands so close to you that you can feel the warmth radiating from him.

"okay," you whisper as the doors slide open. "phase one: get her to my room undetected."

"phase two: survive the morning," bucky adds, his eyes scanning the empty hallway as if this was a co-op mission.

you creep down the hall, a ridiculous, covert operation involving two highly trained individuals and a two-pound kitten. you reach your door, and you fumble with your keycard, a stupid stark security quirk, your hands shaking slightly. the lock clicks open with a sound that seems to echo through the entire tower.

you slip inside, bucky behind you, kicking the door shut with a soft sigh of relief. you place the carrier on the floor of your spacious bedroom and open the little door. alpine tentatively steps out, her little pink nose twitching as she takes in her new surroundings.

your room is your sanctuary. it's a mix of stark-tech minimalism and cozy chaos. a huge window overlooks the glittering manhattan skyline, but the floor is covered with soft rugs and piles of pillows. bookshelves overflow with textbooks, novels, and vogue magazines, and your desk is a controlled mess of laptops and notes.

alpine seems to approve. she takes a few small steps, then pounces on a stray pen, batting it under the bed. she looks up at you, lets out a triumphant mew!, and then proceeds to explore every nook and cranny of your room with the confidence of an mice inspecting a hole in the wall.

bucky is watching her, a look of pure, unadulterated fondness on his face. "she's so brave," he says softly.

"she's a stark," you joke, nudging his arm with your elbow, though there's a strange lump in your throat. "of course she's brave."

you find a small, fluffy blanket and lay it on the floor. alpine immediately abandons her exploration and curls up on it, falling asleep in seconds.

you and bucky stand there, watching her sleep, the silence in the room broken only by her tiny purrs.

"we're her parents now," you whisper, the words feeling both insane and completely right.

"co-parents," he corrects gently, his eyes still on the kitten.

"right," you say, your heart doing a weird little flutter. "co-parents."

you look at him, really look at him. the soft light from the city illuminates his profile, catching the sharp line of his jaw and the gentle curve of his mouth. he looks... happy. truly, deeply happy. and it's because of this tiny, fluffy creature you just impulsively decided to bring into your lives.

"we're going to be in so much trouble tomorrow," you say, but you're smiling.

"worth it," he says, and he turns to look at you, and the look in his eyes makes your breath catch. it's the same look he had when he was talking about the scared cats, the same look he had when he was defending your academic achievements. it's a look that says he sees you. all of you.

the space between you shrinks. you don't know who moves first, maybe you both do. his hand comes up to cup your cheek, his thumb stroking your skin. his metal hand is cool against your waist. you lean into his touch, your eyes fluttering closed.

"i've wanted to do this for a while," he murmurs, his voice a low rumble that vibrates through you.

"me too," you breathe.

and then he kisses you. it's not a frantic, desperate kiss. it's slow, and gentle, and sure. it tastes like coffee and the rain and the promise of something new. it's a kiss that says "finally." it's a kiss that feels like coming home.

when you pull apart, you're both breathing heavily. you rest your forehead against his, a smile playing on your lips.

"so," you whisper. "this changes things."

"yeah," he says, a smile in his voice. "it does."

you spend the rest of the night on your bed, talking in whispers so you don't wake the kitten. you talk about everything. about your fears, your hopes, the moment you each knew your friendship was something more. you fall asleep curled up together, with alpine a tiny, warm weight on the bed between your bodies.

the morning comes, as it always does, with the blare of the towers wake-up alarm and the distant sounds of the tower coming to life. you groan, burying your face in bucky's chest.

"it's judgment day," you mumble.

he kisses the top of your head. "start prepping the defense" he jokes.

you get dressed, steeling yourselves for the inevitable confrontation. you decide the best offense is a good defense. you'll just... walk out. with the cat. act like it's the most normal thing in the world.

bucky holds alpine, who is now purring contentedly in his arms, looking like the world's most intimidating and adorable cat dad. you take a deep breath, open your door, and step into the hallway, walking down to the kitchen for breakfast.

its full. almost every avenger is around the counter conversing.

tony is standing there, a cup of coffee in his hand, wearing a black led zeppelin t-shirt and a look of grim determination as he spoke with the others. steve is there, looking concerned in his captain america pajamas. natasha is leaning against the wall, a knowing smirk on her face. and sam is just... grinning. the traitor.

"well, well," tony says turning his head towards us walking in. his eyes zeroing in on the fluffy white creature in bucky's arms. "what have we here?"

you open your mouth, ready to launch into a defense, but bucky beats you to it. he just stands there, holding alpine, his expression completely calm.

"her name is alpine," he says, his voice steady. "and we're co-parenting."

the word hangs in the air. "we're." as in, the two of you. a unit.

tony's eyes flick from the cat to bucky to you, and then back to the cat. a slow, calculating grin spreads across his face. "co-parenting," he repeats. "so that's what the kids are calling it these days."

steve looks confused. "you got a cat? bucky, are you allergic? do you need an epi-pen?"

natasha just winks at you.

sam, however, is practically vibrating with excitement. "a cat! can i hold her? does she have a little avengers uniform? i can design one! with little wings!"

before anyone can say anything else, alpine, seemingly sensing she's the center of attention, does the most perfect thing she could possibly do. she wriggles out of bucky's arms, him quickly moving down closer to the floor before she fell. She immediately leaps gracefully to the floor, trots directly over to tony stark, and rubs her fluffy little body against his leg, purring like a motorboat.

tony stares down at her, his mouth slightly agape. he slowly bends down, his arc reactor glinting through his shirt in the morning light, and scratches alpine behind her folded ear. she responds by flopping over and exposing her belly.

"oh," tony says, his voice soft. "well. alright then."

and just like that, the war is over. you didn't even have to fire a single shot.

that evening, you and bucky are curled up on the common room couch. alpine is asleep on bucky's chest, rising and falling with each breath he takes. sam is on the floor, trying to teach alpine how to "fist bump" with her tiny paw. natasha is watching you both with an insufferably smug look. tony is on his tablet, and you're pretty sure he's designing a state-of-the-art, climate-controlled, self-cleaning cat tree.

─˖· masterlist