do you think Steve ever looked at Bucky like he was a ghost. do you think his stare ever made Bucky feel like some horrible thing inhabiting his best friends body.
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What would actually happen to Bucky Barnes in the end of CATWS if he was a real person?
You’d never even have heard about what happened.
-.+.-.+.-.+.-.+.-.+.-.+.-
[Except from chapter 3 of my Bucky fic]
"They might just want to bury this," Nat predicted. "That's realpolitik. Too many agencies implicated. Prosecuting you means admitting they all used you."
And she was right.
The number had a lot of zeros. Compensation for seventy years as a POW. Back pay. Hazard pay. "Pain and suffering," they called it. Compound interest.
"There are conditions," the other lawyer added, sliding the NDA across. "You agree not to pursue criminal or civil charges against any agency involved. You agree not to discuss operational details publicly. Standard confidentiality provisions."
Standard.
I signed.
What else was I going to do?
The governments wanted it gone. Sealed. Classified into oblivion. Tony was ready with lawyers, prepared to fight, but there was nothing to fight.
No charges. No trial. No public reckoning.
Just a settlement and an NDA.
"That's... good, Buck." Steve's voice had that careful quality, like he was trying to convince himself. "That's good. You're free."
Free.
I'd taken their blood money and signed away my right to pursue charges against every agency that rented me out for oligarch feuds and corporate espionage.
-.+.-.+.-.+.-.+.-.+.-.+.-
Want to be inside Bucky’s head as he trudges through the political conspiracy shitshow? Don’t let me stop you: [link]
Sometimes you sit down and finish a fic in one sitting, or maybe over the course of a few weeks/months, but sometimes you have a fic that you started seven years ago and you finish it one random October night.
Or in other words: I had started a Bucky and Steve fic seven years ago, and it was sitting unfinished at 1k. I dusted it off for Whumptober and 800 words later, we are done at 1850 words.
Also, if I finished this seven years ago, there wouldn't have been the added bonus to mention something that's tied with my current obsession...
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OK BUT STUCKY LIVING TOGETHER WITH THE AVENGERS AND BUCKY LOVES TO WEAR FLOWER CROWNS AND OTHER NICE AND PRETTY STUFF AND AVENGERS THINKING HOW CUTE BUCKY IS AND BEING "DISGUSTED" (not actually tho) ABOUT HOW DISGUSTINGLY IN LOVE STEVE AND BUCKY ARE AND BUCKY DENYING THAT HES CUTE AND HIM DOING A CUTE POUTY FACE AND THE OTHER AVENGERS THINKING THATS CUTE AS WELL ALL THE WHILE STEVE IS STANDING THERE JUST WATCHING HIM WITH THE ABSOLUTELY BIGGEST FRICKITJN HEART EYES EVER AND AND YEAH
NONNIE, OH NONNIE MY LOVE, GOD BLESS YOU SO SO MUCH, DARLING 💕💕💕💕💕💕💕 I don't know if you're the same lovely nonnie from the Thor + jealous Steve ask (if you are, then I thank you not 1000, but 2000 times!! 😘😘😘), but either way I LOVE YOU and thank you for bringing such preciousness to my inbox 💕💕💕 I simply adore this trope, and indeed I think this is one of the million opportunities the mcu wasted - so here, I wrote a silly little thing for you that I hope you will enjoy :3
1.5k words under the cut!
*
The popcorn kernels hit the bottom of the pan with a happy little tinkle, all tin-tiling-a-ling, spilling like summer hail out of the box. Steve barely hears the sound over the sudden burst of laughter coming from the living room, which – and here comes the pleasant surprise – is the baseline soundtrack of all their game nights lately, and he finds himself grinning along with it as he turns the stove on. Who knows, maybe Lucky went hurtling straight into Tony’s house of UNO cards again.
“Aw Barnes, you’re so cute, man,” Clint – of course it’s Clint – slurs through a mouthful of– possibly a pizza pocket. Could be a coupla pigs in a blanket getting shmooshed in there, though.
Bucky’s reply comes through gritted teeth and positively dripping with indignation. “I am not. Cute.”
Oh yes, ooh yes you are, Steve’s brain supplies instantly, and he steals a quick glance (do 37 seconds still qualify as quick?)– a quick glance towards the couch, where Bucky’s currently demonstrating his Eternal Glower of Profound Betrayal. Dark brows pulled tight together, pursed lips just entering the Hardcore Sulking stage, icing sugar caught in his stubble, and the sight alone makes Steve’s heart feel tender and juicy like chicken thighs after six hours in a slow cooker. Could pull him apart with a spoon, he’s so sweet on the guy.
And God but is Bucky cute; cute doesn’t even begin to cover it. In his new fluffy sweater with the kitty prints, the neon-green pj bottoms, and his arms and legs crossed stubbornly in a full-body pout, he’s just about the cutest thing Steve’s lucky, lucky eyes have ever seen.
He’s wearing his second-favorite flower crown, too – a half a wreath of the most delicate fake cherry blossoms that make the steel blue of his irises pop like goddamn fireworks on the fourth of July. The first time little Cassie caught sight of Bucky in that, she dubbed him an Actual Princess, very earnestly adding that he looked, and dare she say it, prettier than Rapunzel, thus producing the loveliest shade of bubblegum pink all over Bucky’s cheeks – a color which Steve has been trying to recreate, with much patience and dedication, with the loving touch of his fingers and the filthiest words he can fit in his mouth, if only to see how far down Bucky’s body he can get it to reach.
In other words, yes – he’s very much on Clint’s side on this one.
“The man’s right, Barton, he’s not cute,” Sam chimes in, his toothgapped grin all but glinting with mischief. “I believe the word you’re looking for is adorable.”
Amen to that, brother, Steve thinks to himself, just barely remembering to cover the pan before the popcorn starts popcornin’ right into his face.
“Fuck off, Wilson,” Bucky replies, helpfully illustrating the anatomy of a middle finger for Sam’s special benefit.
“Excuse me,” Tony pipes up, one UNO Reverse card tucked behind his ear and two more balanced precariously on top of his multi-story card tower, “I would urge all of you people to consider a true evergreen. The all-powerful, the all-encompassing, the one and only: precious.”
A chorus of cooing noises erupts across the room, rippling from body to body all around the coffee table, until Scott’s arm is shooting up, phone a-wiggling in the air.
“Wait wait wait, I’ve got one– JARVIS, if you please?”
There is a beat of silence. Then the AI’s voice echoes through the entire floor, somewhat mortified.
“As per Mr. Lang’s request, I submit for your perusal an animated Graphic Interchange Format, depicting a small child with cartoonish features, who appears to be holding an overlarge stuffed toy in the shape of a unicorn. The script beneath it reads, It’s so fluffy I’m gonna die.”
The GIF in question starts playing on loop on every screen available in the room – including the one that occupies the entire length of a wall – and the little crowd immediately explodes in a symphony of cackles and excited “Yes!”s and “Spot on”s and “Look Barnes, it’s you!”.
“I hate all of you,” Bucky grumbles, seemingly resigned to his fate; but Steve doesn’t miss the amused twinkle in his eye, nor the subtle curl in the corner of his pouty mouth.
Bucky’s gaze finds him, bright and beautiful, and they exchange a long look across the living room’s open space – intimate, somehow, even over the ruckus caused by their merrymaking friends.
And it might be the popcorn beginning to knock into the lid under Steve’s hand, but there’s something here, fizzing in the tips of his fingers, tingling at the base of his neck; something bubbly and sweet filling up his chest, that he just can’t keep a lid on tonight.
When he sees Nat perched on the backrest just behind Bucky, tugging on his half-braided hair and pleasantly threatening, You move your head again and I’ll bite your ears off – and Bucky drawls out a soft little Sorrey for her, but he keeps grinning up at Steve, his eyes like the shimmer of sunlight on clear waters.
When he finds Clint trying to stick fridge magnets to Bucky’s vibranium arm even through his fuzzy sleeve, then dragging Sam into it too like Hey man, check this out, and from there it’s all about how many times they can spell ‘DICK’ on him before Bucky notices and shoves them both off the couch.
Even when Thor interrupts his Mario Kart showdown with Bruce to offer, “Personally, I find it quite a dashing look – although in my experience, fresh flowers improve it tenfold. STEVEN! You must provide your beloved with fresh flowers for his hair every day! It’s tradition!”
And amongst all the snacks laid out before him, the teasing smile on Bucky’s lips is still the only thing Steve wants to taste tonight.
“You hear that, Steven?” Says his beloved.
Steve adores him. Steve would worship the ground his green-socked feet walk on. “Loud and clear, baby.”
Ohh, it’s worth saying it just for the lovely blush it puts on the apples of Bucky’s cheeks, rosey pink and delicious; and maybe, yeah, maybe even for the outburst of catcalls and Get-a-room’s it gets him, the second the word is out of his mouth.
“Aww, he said baby~”
“That’s so cute, you guys–”
“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”
“No, shut up– if you two lovebirds start making out in front of me again, I will throw up in the guacamole bowl and it won’t be pretty.”
“Nah, don’t you listen to this old sourball here, this is a PDA-friendly zone! If you guys feel like a bit of canoodling, some squeezin’ and a-lovin’–”
“Yo Rogers, that popcorn about ready or you still growin’ it?”
And. And Steve loves it. This– this, right here. It’s pure unadulterated chaos sometimes – all right, most of the time – but he can hardly picture his life without a healthy dose of this anymore.
Four years ago, he was a shell of a man; raw pulp under a too-thin rind, the chill of ice still creeping in his veins, with barely the will to see another day.
Two years ago, he found something he’d thought he’d lost forever to the sharp embrace of a frost-coated ravine. Hope. And what a powerful fuel that proved to be.
Ten months ago, when Bucky first sought his kisses again, and slipped into his arms as easy as if he’d never ever left them at all, Steve rediscovered the meaning of bliss. He had everything he needed. Everything he’d dreamed of, night after day after night. What more could he have wished for?
Today, an unexpected answer presents itself to him.
“Hey, pass the chips, will you?”
“You think we’ve got any caramel sauce?”
“If you unleash one more of those green shells upon me, then so help me Odin–”
This. He wants this, with no name to put to it, except for the way it makes him feel inside. This thing that fills a room, warm and lovely, like hot chocolate poured in a cup, and feels so much like an embrace. Like coming in from the cold.
He never would have dared to wish for it. Hell, he didn’t even think he could afford to ask for it, but now that it’s here, he finds he’s hungry for it; and it doesn’t feel like greed at all. It just feels– good.
He’s only vaguely aware of Sam walking up to him, handing him an empty bowl to pour the fresh popcorn in. His brown eyes are gentle, knowing – but then, Sam always seems to know something Steve doesn’t.
“Happy’s a good look on you, man,” Sam says, and this smile, ah, this Steve couldn’t hold back if he tried with all his might.
He looks over to the couch, where Bucky’s holding his belly as he laughs, head thrown back and flower crown drooping perilously over his eyes. Steve is smiling so hard, it hurts.
companion fic to half in the shadows (half burned in flame)
7,673 | T+ | no archive warnings apply
Sam stands in the kitchen, knife in hand, and listens to Bucky say very lowly. “I could kill you.”
He feels lit up, overheated. Has the same free fall pit opening up in his stomach that he gets when he closes his wings while in the air. A voice in the back of his head screaming danger, you fool, there’s danger.
“Yeah, I know,” he says, doesn’t let any of the wind seep into his voice. Throws an apple hard and fast at Bucky. “Are you going to?”
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
“Sam!” Steve called out after he took out the last Hydra agent. “Sam! Where’d you go?” He called out again as he stepped over the bodies of the agents and went through the warehouse. He soon heard a baby’s cry and followed it to a lab where he found bodies of 5 people in lab coats. His mouth dropped and his eyes widened when he found an empty glass bassinet with a white blanket and a small baby sized electronic headband that looked more like a torture device as it had many wires connected to it. He picked it up and put it back on the bed, before following the cries once again. Steve got behind a work station and immediately had a gun pointed at him.
“Hey, whoa, Sam, it’s me! It’s Steve!” Steve said putting his hands up.
“Shit, Steve, sorry,” Sam apologized and lowered the gun.
Steve noticed a baby tucked in Sam’s left arm and he crouched on the floor and watched the baby in awe.
“Is that…”
“…the baby they were experimenting on? Yes,” Sam finished Steve’s sentence for him.
Steve reached out to touch the baby’s wet cheek. There was something so familiar about him. He had tanned sun kissed skin, head full of dark curls, a small nose, thin lips, but it’s those big blue eyes that reminded Steve of Bucky.
Shaking the thought away, Steve got back up and helped Sam off the floor. “Are you okay?” He asked his friend.
“Yeah, I’m good,” Sam replied. “You?”
“I’m good too,” Steve answered. “What do we do with him?” He asked pointing at the baby.
“Let’s take him with us for now and then we can figure it out,” Sam replied, and rocked the baby in his arms when he started crying again.
Steve nodded and got in front of Sam and the baby. “Come on, follow me. I think we took down all of them but just to be on the safe side.
Steve destroyed all the machines in the lab so that they were rendered useless. He then led Sam and the baby out of the warehouse and got into their truck before driving away.
***
When got to the hotel, they took the baby to their room.
“Now what?” Steve asked.
The baby was fast asleep in Sam’s arms and Sam was watching him in awe.
“We have to get supplies for him. He can sleep on my bed tonight but when we get back home tomorrow, we can buy him a crib.”
“Sam…” Steve trailed off looking at his friend. “…we can’t keep him. Tomorrow morning we should give him up to an orphanage. They’ll take care of him.”
“Are you-“ Sam started to say loudly but then lowered his voice. “—are you out of your mind? This is likely a super powered baby. Much like you. Hydra is after him, and we only took out one lab. God only knows how many more there are out there. We can’t just leave this baby to strangers and call it a day. Hydra will do whatever it takes to get to him.”
“So what do you want to do?” Steve asked.
“I say we take him back with us,” Sam told him.
“How are we supposed to take care of a baby?” Steve started to pace the room. “We know nothing about them.”
“Correction. You know nothing about babies. I have a nephew and several baby cousins, whom I helped raise,” Sam informed him.
“So you’ve made up your mind? You’re taking him with you?”
“Yes,” Sam replied decisively. “We just need to get him out of Germany and to the US. We don’t have any paperwork on him. It could be difficult getting him back home.”
“Don’t worry about that,” Steve assured him. “I’ll have Tony take care of it.”
“Thanks,” said Sam. “Do you wanna hold him?”
“What?” Steve slightly panicked.
“The baby, do you wanna hold him?”
“I’ve never held a baby so small. What if I hurt him?” Steve asked worried.
“You won’t!” Sam assured him. “Here, it's okay!” He said putting the baby in Steve’s arms. “Just support the neck like... yeah, there you go! You got it!”
Steve smiled at the sleeping child in his arms who squirmed and made a small noise when Steve took him. “Shhh… it’s okay, kiddo. I got you.” Steve whispered to him.
“You’re a natural,” Sam teased.
Steve looked up at him and rolled his eyes. “Thanks,” he said. “This baby… he reminds me of Bucky.” He finally admitted.
“Not gonna lie, that’s what I thought too when I first saw him,” Sam told Steve. “Do you think he could be—“
“But how?” Steve asked before Sam could finish his question.
“Well, how else are babies made Steve?” Sam huffed.
“Bucky was with Hydra this whole time. He was kept brainwashed and in a cryo state most of the time. When would he—“
“I don’t know,” Sam shrugged. “But it would make sense why Hydra is after this baby. Besides, look at him, apart from the skin color, he looks exactly like your friend. I say Bucky had a thing with that doctor, Alicia.”
“Hmmm… I suppose you’re right,” Steve replied.
“Maybe once we find Bucky, we can reunite him with the baby?” Sam suggested. “In the meantime, we keep him.”
“How old do you think he is?” Steve asked.
“I say he’s at least 3 months old,” Sam answered.
“Does he have a name?”
“I don’t think Hydra named him,” Sam replied and reached out to gently thump the baby’s chest when he started to wake up. The baby made a face but then didn’t cry and fell asleep again.
“What do we call him then?” Steve asked.
“I don’t know,” Sam answered honestly. “Do you have a name?”
Steve thought for a little bit, gently rocking the baby before saying, “How about James?”
“James it is then.” Sam grinned and took the baby back from Steve, who hesitated before giving him back. “Hey James,” Sam cooed and kissed his forehead.
