Unwanted - PocketStark - Marvel Cinematic Universe [Archive of Our Own] (2024)

Chapter 1: Unarmed

Chapter Text

"You're sure you're cool with this, Boss?" you asked Tony Stark, for what was probably the ten thousandth time in the last hour. The two of you were sitting by yourselves off in a corner of the common area of the Avengers Tower while the rest of your team congregated around the bar, eagerly anticipating the official return of Captain America to the Avengers. That, by itself, would be enough to warrant a gathering of Earth's mightiest heroes, but what had everyone in attendance talking was the fact that Steve Rogers wouldn't be returning alone.

Your billionaire employer sighed and swirled his glass of Laphroaig, the amber liquid sloshing along the sides of the tumbler. "I don't love it, Pocket, but it was Cap's only condition for coming back into the fold, and since Barton, Wilson, and Maximoff all went off the reservation with him, it seemed a small price to pay to get everyone back under one roof." He took a swig of his whiskey and smacked his lips.

You couldn't help but smile at his use of your nickname. Thor had inadvertently given it to you when you first met the God of Thunder years ago, remarking for everyone to hear that you were so small and tiny, he could tuck you into his pocket and abscond away with you to Asgard. Somehow, it stuck. You'd hated it at first; it had felt dismissive and condescending, which of course meant that it soon became the only thing the members of your team called you, but the more they used in their daily lives, the more you actually came to love it. It was a brand new, unique identity that came to embody the person you’d become, and the past you’d worked so hard to put behind you. You were more likely to answer to 'Pocket,' now, than you were your legal name, and you were grateful for it.

"Besides," Tony continued with a shrug, "if letting the Barnes thing go means we get the band back together, I'm willing to be the bigger person about it."

You stared at him, impressed. "Well look at you. When did you get so emotionally evolved?"

"Since Pepper told me I needed to start seeing a therapist or she’d leave me once and for all," he admitted to you with a cheeky wink; you both knew that, though Tony drove his partner, Pepper Potts, absolutely insane sometimes, she loved him far too much to ever walk away from him for good. That didn’t stop the threats, though. Lord knows he tried her patience. In your opinion, the woman was a saint.

Your eyes widened at the revelation and you let out a low whistle of appreciation. " You're going to therapy? Wow. Tony, That's amazing. I'm proud of you."

"Oh please," Tony scoffed, "I have much more important things to do than sit on a couch and spill my feelings. Besides, my secrets are too valuable to divulge to an actual human being. I just trained FRIDAY on therapeutic conversational datasets so she can handle all that psychological mumbo jumbo and then I paired that with BARF's augmented reality-- it's seriously the platinum standard in mental healthcare. No awkward silences or judgmental stares, just pure efficiency. You should try it; it’d do you wonders. And the best part? No copays."

You chuckled as you took a sip of your pineapple and Malibu. "Yeah, okay. That completely tracks for you," you told him with a smile. "So, what did Dr. FRIDAY tell you that got you to change your mind about the Barnes situation?"

Furrows appeared between Tony's eyebrows as he took another sip of whiskey to buy time for collecting his thoughts. There was still so much pain in him where Bucky Barnes was concerned. You'd worked for him in some capacity for nearly fifteen years and you'd never seen him as defeated as he'd been when he got off that Quinjet from Siberia. He'd been bloodied, battered and utterly broken, body and soul. Seeing him like that had shattered you, and you never wanted to live through something like that again.

Tony ran you through his experience with his therapeutic innovation, and you had to admit, it was impressive. The system had helped him realize that Bucky Barnes wasn't responsible for the heinous crimes Hydra had brainwashed him into completing, and so his anger over the death of his parents, while justified, had been misdirected.

"Once I processed that, it was a quick jump to realizing we can't be the best version of the Avengers if we only have half the team at home, and it's innocent people who would pay the price for it. So, when I reached out to Cap and he agreed to come back if I agreed to let him bring Barnes with him, well..." Tony trailed off, gesturing vaguely with his hand toward the where the rest of the team was waiting.

"So, you and Rogers are just, what? Good then? All water under the bridge?" you asked him, mild irritation clouding your voice.

"Oh, absolutely not." Tony took another sip of whiskey. "I can work with him again, and I'm glad to, but we're not going to be braiding each other's hair anytime soon."

"Good," you said, raising your glass in a mock toast to Tony. "I'm not quite ready to forgive him on your behalf just yet." Tony had essentially saved your life when you first met him, and he’d continued to support and guide your career to heights you could have never imagined. You'd started as a systems analyst and mechanical engineer at Stark Industries fresh out of college, and under Tony’s mentorship, it wasn’t long before you found yourself rising to the position of the company’s Chief Technical Officer, second in command only to Pepper, now that Tony had passed on the reins to her. All this happened long before he'd ever brought you in to work with him on the Avengers Initiative, and now you spent the majority of your time heading up their Technology and Innovation Department, as well.

Any kind of healthy respect you might have had for your boss had died out a long, long time ago, because Tony Stark was Tony Stark , but now he was just Tony -- more like an annoying older brother you loved dearly, whose name just happened to be on your paychecks. You owed him everything and that had earned him your unwavering loyalty. You'd follow him to hell and back again if he asked it of you, though he knew he’d never have to; you’d be paving the path there right alongside him.

The sound of laughter made its way across to you from the other side of the room and you felt warmth at the sound-- everyone, together again and happy. Just a few short months ago, you never would have been able to imagine the scene before you, not after the fight in Berlin and its brutal aftermath. You had thought for sure that this little family you'd found yourself in the middle of had been destroyed beyond repair.

So, you might have had your own reasons to be pissed at Steve Rogers.

"What's Barnes like?" you asked Tony. Having only ever glimpsed him from a distance, or from behind a computer monitor, you'd utilized all the resources at your disposal to dig up as much information on the Winter Soldier as possible, but even your skills hadn't been able to get you what simply didn't exist. "You know I don't like unknown quantities."

Tony seemed to think for a moment. "You mean, aside from being a brainwashed, murderous assassin?"

"Tony," you chastised. You knew that Barnes had spent a good deal of time in Wakanda before coming home to New York, working on having the words that triggered his homicidal alter-ego neutralized. Rogers may not always acted rationally when it came to making decisions about his oldest friend, but you were sure he wouldn’t be bringing Barnes back to the Tower if he posed a serious danger to the rest of you. Right?

"Fine," Tony said, with a typical exaggerated sigh. "Aside from being a former brainwashed, murderous assassin; better?" You rolled your eyes but nodded. "Don't really know, didn't care enough to ask. I'll be happy as long as he doesn't start murdering us all in our sleep. Cap vouches for him, so that counts for something. Maybe not as much as it did once upon a time, but something. But T’Challa seems to think he’s harmless enough now, so that’s good enough for me."

You nodded, taking another sip of your pineapple and Malibu, then leaned back, pensive. "Oh, God," you said after a moment of thought, sitting up in alarm. "You don't think it’s going to be like having an entire extra Rogers around, do you? All '40s morality and emotional repression? Because I am so over having him police my language." It wasn't that you had anything against Captain America as an Avenger, but there was only so much of the Boy Scout act you could take before you started getting nauseous. And okay, fine, you weren't too proud to admit it-- there was a not-so-small part of you that still hadn't forgiven him for what you saw as his blatant betrayal of Tony when he refused to sign the Accords. You'd promised to play nice, though, for the sake of your family, but your personal relationship with The Star-Spangled Man had taken heavy damage since Berlin.

Tony chuckled. "As if you'd ever let Cap's presence keep you from a good profanity. I should put out a swear jar. We could fund that crisis algorithm project of yours off your mouth alone."

"Fuck you, Tony," you uttered with a chuckle, fully aware that he had your number. You never met a four-letter word you didn’t fall immediately in love with.

"And look at that," Tony said with a smirk, "I just made another dollar. Hey FRIDAY, open up a new savings account and deposit a dollar into every time Pocket has a potty mouth."

"On it, Boss," the AI replied cheerfully.

You swore at Tony a few more times for good measure. "I fully intend to financially bleed you dry now, asshole."

"Oh no, I'm shaking in my custom Tom Ford's," Tony mockingly bemoaned, putting his feet, enclosed in the aforementioned ridiculously expensive loafers, up on the coffee table.

Raised voices from the other side of the room caught your attention. You stood up and craned your neck, trying to see what had caused the commotion. "I think they're here, Boss," you said.

"Alright," Tony said, standing up and putting an arm around your shoulder, "big smiles, kiddo. Remember, we're supposed to be happy about this." You suppressed a chuckle as you watched Rogers present Bucky Barnes to the rest of the team. Everyone was welcoming; you wouldn’t have expected any less, but as you watched their body language, the only word that came to mind was guarded . And you completely understood; The Winter Soldier’s reputation had preceded him, after all. There were hugs for Rogers, of course, but no one made any attempt to reach out to his friend.

Despite your overall annoyance with Rogers, you couldn't help but feel some degree of happiness for the giant oaf. When you'd been assigned on a mission with him (which happened fairly frequently, as he was so pathetically abysmal with anything having to do with technology) and ended up having to hole up in a safehouse for an extra couple of days while waiting for extraction, he'd started opening up to you about James Buchanan Barnes, and the reminiscing had made him so happy, you encouraged Steve to tell you everything about this Bucky. After that, the trouble was getting Rogers to stop telling his Bucky stories. If he wasn't sharing tales about growing up with his best friend during the Great Depression and all the absolute mischief they got into, he was sharing war stories of their time together with the Howling Commandos. He'd even shared his grief with you– how painful it had been to watch Barnes fall from that train and the guilt he carried for not being able to save him. He’d confessed to you once that, when he went into the ice, fully prepared to die, there was a part of him that was relieved to be reunited with Barnes in the next life, and waking up some 70 years later to a world where he was still alive but Bucky was still gone had broken his heart all over again. And yet, here they were– together in the next life, after all. If you were a different kind of person, you’d say it was a goddamn miracle.

Because of the way Rogers described his best friend in those old stories, you were expecting Bucky Barnes to come swaggering along next to him, with a cocksure tilt to his head and a panty-dropping smirk playing along his lips, but the man who accompanied Steve was the furthest thing from that.

He shuffled behind Rogers slowly, looking at the floor and avoiding making eye contact with anyone else from the team. His hair hung long and limp, curtaining off his face as though it were a protective barrier. Though, if it was keeping him away from everyone else, or everyone else away from him, you couldn't be sure. He was much thinner than you'd anticipated, especially for a super soldier– though still extremely muscular, giving you the impression that it had been a long time since he'd let himself indulge in anything more than the bare minimum amount of calories he needed for survival. Tilting your head, you tried to steal a glance at his infamous metal arm, the thing of legends that had turned him from a run-of-the-mill assassin into the stuff of waking nightmares.

But the sleeve of his jacket hung limp, only empty space where the appendage should have been.

Curious. He'd come to Tony Stark's home unarmed . Your hand flew to your mouth to try and stop the uncontrollable snicker that broke loose at your own stupid joke. Tony elbowed you gently in the ribs to shut you up, and you hoped you were too far away and the others too distracted by Steve's introductions to notice you, but that thought flew right out the window when Bucky Barnes' head snapped up at the sound, his eyes locking onto yours from across the room.

"Holy shit," you breathed, knowing another dollar would go into Tony's digital swear jar, but damn if the man didn't have the most striking blue eyes you had ever seen. There were dark circles under them, and he looked incredibly tired, yeah, but they were beautiful. You didn't mean to stare, but you found you couldn't look away, either, and so the two of you were locked into some sort of impromptu staring contest. The longer you looked at him, the more you could sense an overwhelming sadness coming from him, as well as a level of wariness at being in a room full of strangers. It was almost overwhelming.

But then, just as suddenly as it began, the spell was broken. Blinking once, Bucky looked away and you felt the tension vanish from between you.

"What was that about?" Tony asked you in a low singsong voice.

"I have no idea," you answered, honestly. There had been so much pain and loneliness in his eyes. You'd seen eyes like that before, when you were younger and looked at your own reflection in the mirror following a scalding shower with your skin scrubbed raw and bloody. You suppressed a shiver.

Finally, Steve managed to disengage himself and Bucky from the other Avengers and began making his way toward you and Tony. Up close, you were struck by how tall Bucky was. He had to be at least a foot taller than you, if not more. And God, he was handsome. Granted, in a kind of heroin-chic sort of way, but still. A couple of good nights' sleep, a few good meals, some light personal grooming, and... well, there was a very good chance you were going to be in trouble once he got his shit together, that was for sure.

"And Buck," Steve was saying, drawing you out of your ogling, "This is our resident computer genius, Pocket (Y/L/N). You ever need help with anything technology-related, she's your girl."

"A bit of an over-simplified version, Rogers," you said, sticking your hand out to shake Bucky’s, "but yeah, that about covers it."

Bucky looked at you, then down at your hand, making no move to take it.

"What the hell kind of name is Pocket ?" he asked, voice rough as though he hadn’t been using it a lot. Pulling your hand back, you shot him an annoyed glare.

"I don't know," you oozed back sarcastically. "What the hell kind of name is Bucky ?"

"It's his nickname, Pocket," Steve supplied helpfully, though not without a trace of confusion. You gave him an annoyed, pointed look.

"No shit, Rogers." You turned back to Bucky and spoke slowly, as if to a child. "So, what do you think Pocket is, then?"

"Oh," said Bucky, catching on. The corners of his mouth turned up ever so slightly. "Gotcha; m'sorry about that. My manners are rusty from a severe lack of use."

You didn't mean it, but your mouth curved up into a hint of a smile, too. And then, almost as if you couldn't stop yourself from doing it, you found yourself saying "I see you've arrived unarmed."

There was a long, heavy beat of silence as Steve and Tony stared at you, mouths slightly agape, and you wondered if you'd made a critical error. You were just about to punch yourself in the face and claim you had a concussion and therefore couldn't be held responsible for what you said when Bucky burst into laughter.

It was the most beautiful sound you'd ever heard, and it was contagious. Through your own laughter, you risked a glance up at Steve. He was looking back and forth between you and Bucky, an indiscernible look in his eyes, and you couldn't help but wonder how long it had been since he'd heard his best friend laugh. Hell, you wondered how long it had been since Bucky Barnes had laughed at all.

"Pocket," Tony groaned, palming his face, "that was truly terrible, even for you."

"I'm sorry," you said, trying to catch your breath through your burst of giggles. "It just slipped out-- I couldn’t help it. You know once these things come into my head, they just bounce around in there until they fall out. I didn't mean it."

Steve smiled at you. "So that's what you were snickering at," he said, amused. Damn that enhanced super soldier hearing. Rogers didn't need to be so nosy with it.

You shrugged. "What can I say? Bad jokes are my superpower. Don't be jealous that all you got was super strength and a six pack, Rogers."

Bucky laughed again, then nudged Steve playfully with his elbow. "I like this one, Stevie," he said. "She's funny."

You weren't sure why, exactly, but something in Bucky's words turned your insides into a warm puddle of goo.

Oh, you were going to be in trouble, indeed.

*

The next evening, you were making your way back to your suite after a productive, albeit exhausting, day in your lab. You were working on a crisis prediction real-time monitoring system to anticipate global threats. You were convinced it would allow the Avengers to respond to trouble faster, but perfecting the privacy algorithm had been an absolute pain in the ass, and you still hadn't gotten it quite right. Technically, you could have farmed the project off to a subordinate; hell, even a team of subordinates of a subordinate, but this was one of your pet projects and you insisted on being hands-on in its development.

You had your tablet open as you walked, chewing on your thumb and reviewing the dataset from the run of your latest algorithm model one more time. Closer, but not good enough. If you were going to convince Tony that this was a program worth implementing, especially at its projected cost, everything had to be perfect. "Damn it," you muttered to yourself.

You rounded the corner and ran smack into Bucky's chest, dropping your tablet and causing him to drop the three books he'd been holding under his remaining arm. "Oh, shit-- I'm so sorry," you uttered as you bent down to retrieve the dropped items. Bucky leaned down to assist you, but you waved him off.

"’S my fault; I've got it," you told him, piling up his books for him. "I wasn't paying attention to where I was going. I didn't hurt you, did I?"

Bucky leaned up against the wall and chuckled while you stood up and handed the books back to him. "I doubt you could hurt me," he said, smiling softly. "No offense."

You let out a small laugh. "None taken." He was a super soldier, after all. Stealing a glance at book spines, you couldn't suppress the smile that crossed your face. " Lord of the Rings ," you nodded appreciatively. "Have you read them before?"

Bucky looked down at the books tucked under his arm. "No, first time. I read The Hobbit back when it was first published in '37, but these didn't come out until after..." he trailed off, but you knew what he meant. After he'd been abducted and brainwashed, turned into a murderer.

You nodded in understanding. "I'm actually really excited for you," you told him. "What I wouldn't give to be able to read them again for the first time."

"You a Tolkien fan, then?" he asked you. When you nodded, he continued: "When I finish them, maybe we can talk about them sometime? Steve's not really into fantasy."

"Yeah, I'd like that," you said. "If you're interested, we could watch the movies. I'll warn you though; they're long as hell, but their masterpieces. I mean, they didn't need to turn The Hobbit into three separate films, but still, they'll blow your fucking mind."

Bucky ran his tongue over his lower lip and you couldn't help but follow the motion with your eyes. "That sounds like fun," he said, his eyes twinkling with... something. "Your place or mine?" Was he… flirting with you?

"How 'bout you finish the books first, then we'll talk logistics," you teased. "Hey, speaking of, what floor did they end up putting you on?"

"Um, this one, actually," he said, tilting his head toward a nearby door.

"No shit," you remarked, laughingly. "You must have done something to piss Rogers off, because he put you right across the hall from me."

Bucky looked down, scuffing the toe of his boot against the carpeting. "He said it was the quietest floor, thought I'd prefer that."

You pursed your lips, considering. "Yeah, that makes sense; it's just been me on this level for ages. It'll be nice to have some company for a change."

Bucky looked surprised. "Stark's kept you down here all by your lonesome? That doesn't seem very nice."

You shook your head and dismissed his concern with a wave. "Oh, no-- Tony hates that I still live down here, actually. He put in all new living quarters a few years back. Everyone migrated upstairs, but I was the only one who didn't want to move."

"Why's that?" Bucky asked, appearing genuinely interested.

"I've lived here since I graduated college," you admitted, "back when it was still just Stark Tower. When Tony relocated here from Malibu to rebrand it for the Avengers, he wanted to redo everything, which meant fancy new suites for everybody. But I love my rooms, so I asked to stay put. They've been my home for so long now and I guess I just like the stability, you know?"

Bucky nodded thoughtfully. "And Tony thinks highly enough of you that he let the blow to his ego slide?"

You raised an eyebrow. "Maybe I have enough dirt on him that he felt like he didn't have much of a choice." You snorted, not able to keep up the pretense. "No, but seriously, I know you and Tony have a complicated... history, but he's not a bad guy. Ego as tall as this Tower, yes, definitely, but he's also incredibly kind and generous. He paid for my entire college education-- undergrad, post-grad, doctorate. I owe everything I have to him."

Bucky shifted against the wall. "That is pretty generous. And he never expected anything from you in return?" He didn't say the words out loud, but the implication was there. Had you slept with Tony in exchange for your diplomas ? The innuendo should have bothered you, but it had been posed to you so many times over the years, you'd stopped being offended by it. Before Pepper, Tony had had quite the reputation, after all, and an MIT education didn’t exactly come cheap. Most people couldn’t understand why he would offer a full ride to someone who, at the time, had been a complete stranger.

"Tony appreciates talent," you clarified. "When he finds it, he cultivates it, nourishes it, does everything he can to help it grow to its fullest potential. But he does like to get a return on his investments, and my skills have helped him make a lot of money." You shrugged your shoulders with a chuckle. "I love my job, I love the work we do, I love the stupid weirdo family we've built here, so I've always considered meeting Tony to be the best thing that ever happened to me. He's kind of like my own fairy godfather."

"So, what exactly does he have you do around here?" Bucky asked. "I know Steve said you did computer stuff, but you said it was an over-simplification."

You ran a hand up to rub the back of your neck while you considered your answer. How best to explain your position to someone who was born before the invention of the television ? "Okay," you exhaled, "so, short answer is that I'm the CTO, the Chief Technology Officer, of Stark Industries and, under that, I run the Avenger’s Technology and Innovation Department. It's sort of our take on Research and Development. I've got a lab where I'm in charge of about 450 scientists, engineers, computer programmers, analysts, et. cetera. And our entire job is coming up with cool new ways of making things easier for the Avengers. Like, new features for suits, developing useful programs, coming up with new defenses and weapons, that kind of thing. And if we've got missions that require heavy computer- or tech-work, I come along for on-site support. I'm combat-trained and good with languages, so that comes in handy in the field. There’s probably a ton of field agents that could go in my place, but for Tony, it’s a matter of trust."

Bucky let out a low, appreciative whistle. "Damn. That's impressive. You're a little intimidating, you know that?"

Laughing, you tucked your tablet under your arm. "Please. I'm about as intimidating as a hamster." You paused to think. "Maybe a hamster with rabies, but still a hamster."

A series of beeps emanated from your tablet. As you pulled it out to check the alert, Bucky moved away from the wall. "I'm so sorry-- you were heading back to your room and I've basically been holding you hostage this entire time."

"Actually," you said, silencing the notification alarm that had distracted you, "That was just a reminder I set for myself to eat. Sometimes I lose track of time in the lab and completely forget to have dinner. Are you hungry? You could join me."

Bucky pulled his head back, regarding you as though he wasn't sure if you were serious.

"Or, if you don't want to, that's cool," you said quickly once you noticed his hesitation. "I mean, you wanted a quiet floor. Annoying neighbor is probably the last--"

"I'd love to," interrupted Bucky with a grin. "I'm just surprised someone like you would want to spend time with someone like me ."

" Someone like me ? Hey now, for all you know, I could be an absolute trash person," you teased, playfully punching him on the shoulder.

Bucky chuckled, his eyes sparkling with a newfound warmth. "Well, I highly doubt that, but I guess I'll find out soon enough."

"Don't say I didn't warn you when you do." You cocked your head toward the door to your room. "I'm going to change out of my work clothes. While I do, how about you decide what you're in the mood for, and we'll go from there. That sound good?" Bucky nodded as you let yourself into your room. The evening had taken an unexpected turn, but you found you were looking forward to spending more time in the company of Bucky Barnes.

*

Your friendship with Bucky only continued to grow from there. There was something about him, his quiet demeanor, his gentle sense of humor, that made you feel an immediate connection with him, as if you'd known him for ages instead of just a few weeks. You weren't one to open up to others easily; it had taken you over a year to trust that Tony didn't have any ulterior motives for befriending you, but with Bucky, it was effortless, as if you couldn't have stopped it even if you wanted to.

About three weeks into his residency at the Tower, you were exposed to your first instance of one of Bucky's nightmares. He'd told you he frequently had them, but you'd yet to experience one firsthand. You hadn't been able to sleep-- your own losing battle with insomnia--, so you were coming back up from getting a late night snack in the communal kitchen when you heard the muffled shouting coming from behind his door. At first, you were going to ignore it, sure that it was his television, but you heard him utter a single, desperate "Pozhaluysta," the sound of it so heartbreaking that your breath caught in your lungs. Please .

Crossing over to Bucky's door, you knocked softly. "Bucky? It's Pocket. Are you okay? I heard shouting." You waited for an answer... but nothing. Taking a step closer, you put an ear to the door, holding your breath. You could make out the sound of frantic thrashing, cries of "Net!" and then a whimper. He sounded like he was in trouble, like he was in pain .

"FRIDAY," you said to the AI that ran the tower, "open the door."

"I'm sorry, Ms. (Y/L/N), but Sergeant Barnes has locked his door for the evening."

"For fucks' sake, FRIDAY," you muttered. "Enact override protocol 346.78C." There was no point in being the Avenger's resident computer genius if you couldn't hack their home automation system, was there? You heard the click of Bucky's door unlocking. Turning the handle and hoping that asking him for forgiveness was easier than asking for permission, you stepped inside.

It took a moment for your eyes to adjust, but once you were able to make out shapes in the gloom of the darkened suite, you saw that the layout was relatively similar to your own. You made your way over to the bed, expecting to see Bucky writhing on it in the midst of his nightmare, but it was empty, stripped of all bedding, just a bare mattress.

Then you heard him, thrashing from the space between the bed and the wall. You shuffled over to the other side and found the super soldier lying on the floor, tangled in his sheets. A thin sheen of sweat covered his naked torso, a pair of sweat pants riding low on his hips. His face was contorted in agony as his head twisted from side to side.

"Net! Net!" he cried out in Russian, fighting off invisible assailants, "Pozhaluysta, ne nado! Eto bol'no!" No! No! Please, no! It hurts!

It physically pained your heart to see him struggling like this, so you did the first thing that came to mind-- you threw yourself across him, wrapping your arms around his body and holding him in place, whispering back to him in Russian: "Ty v poryadke, ty v poryadke. Ty v bezopasnosti. Nikto ne mozhet prichinit' tebe vred." You're okay, you're okay. You're safe. No one can hurt you . "I've got you, Bucky. You're safe."

It was a long moment before you realized that his thrashing had stopped, his heartbeat had slowed, and he had wrapped his arm around you, holding you to him as if you were a lifeline.

You pulled back, allowing him to sit up.

"Pocket?" he asked, voice laced with confusion at seeing you, as though he wasn't sure if he was actually awake or not. "What are you doing here? And... were you speaking Russian, or was I dreaming?"

Suddenly shy, you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, avoiding looking at him. Jesus. He literally just woken up to you throwing yourself on top of him. "I-I'm sorry," you stammered. "I was walking by, and it sounded like you were having a nightmare. I was worried, so I came in to check on you. I'll let you go back to sleep. Sorry." You got up to go, but his hand reached out and encircled your wrist, gently holding you in place.

"No," he murmured, pulling you back down to the floor next to him. "You were right, I was having a nightmare. I... I told you I get them, sometimes. Memories, really. Of things Hydra... did to me. Things they... things they made me do. Thank you," he looked up at you, catching your eyes through the darkness and holding your gaze. "Thank you for waking me up, for taking me out of it."

You gulped, the night becoming far more intimate than you could have anticipated when you went downstairs to grab a pint of ice cream earlier. You forced a smile. "Of course. What are friends for?"

"Are we?" he asked, his voice suddenly low, causing a pool of warmth to collect in the bottom of your stomach. "Friends?"

"Of course, Buck." You gave him a concerned look. "Why wouldn't we be?"

"Because I'm a monster, Pocket." Bucky lowered his head in his shame. "I'm a murderer and a monster."

"Oh, Bucky, no." You took his chin into your hands and brushed a strand of hair away from his face. "Sweetie, no, you're not. You were a victim. You didn't consent to a single thing Hydra made you do. I know that it's going to take you a long time to believe that, but it's the truth. I promise you it is." He closed his eyes and nodded.

"Pocket, do you think..." he looked away from you, almost shyly, "do you think you could stay? After a nightmare, I... Well, I don't really like being alone."

"And Rogers isn’t one for midnight cuddling, huh?" you teased, a playful smile on your lips. You couldn't see it, but you could practically feel the sardonic look he was giving you. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding. Yes, I'll stay. But Bucky, I have one rule--"

"I'll keep my hand to myself and be a perfect gentleman, I promise," he said solemnly.

"Pfft," you scoffed. "I don't give a shit about that. Be as handsy as you want. No, my one rule is: I am not sleeping on the fucking floor." Bucky rewarded you with another one of his genuine laughs. You couldn't articulate how happy it made you feel knowing that you were the cause of that laughter.

"You got it," he said, as he stood up and began to move his sheets and pillows back to the bed. "Nothing but the best for you, doll."

Your insides glowed at this new nickname, and you were positive he was going to notice how his words made you light up in the dark. You busied yourself with helping him make up the bed before crawling under the covers. You tried not to be too obvious as you inhaled the scent of Bucky on the pillowcase. He smelled like cedar and leather and something unidentifiable that was just so quintessentially Bucky that it had become your favorite scent. You wanted to bottle it up and use it like a fabric spray so you'd always be surrounded by it.

The bed dipped as Bucky got in, pulling the covers up over himself. "Thank you for this, Pocket," he whispered.

You turned onto your side to face him. "Of course. Any time, Bucky; I sincerely mean that. I know what it's like; I have them, too."

"You do?" You felt him reach for you in the dark, taking your hand and interlacing his fingers with yours. "You can tell me about them. If you want to."

You nodded, before realizing he probably couldn't see you, so you hummed an affirmative. There was something about the cover of night that made you feel brave, safe in opening up to Bucky; you found yourself wanting to tell him what kept you awake at night. You took a deep breath.

"I... didn't have the best childhood," you began, trying to keep your voice steady. "My father took off before I was old enough to even remember what he looked like, and my mother was always more interested in getting high than she was with being a parent. I was in and out of foster care for a while when I was a little girl." Bucky squeezed your hand in sympathy and you continued: "Then she got this boyfriend, Darren." God, even now, the taste of his name on your tongue was like bitter bile. "For a little while, things were… better. Mom got her shit together enough that Social Services sent me back to live with her. I could almost believe that things were going to be okay. I mean, we even stayed in the same place for more than six months. I went to school regularly. It almost made me feel like a normal kid."

"What happened?" You barely heard Bucky's whispered question. You let out a harsh, disillusioned laugh.

"Puberty," you told him. "I turned eleven, got boobs and suddenly Darren's paying a lot more attention to me." You felt Bucky tense in the bed beside you. "Of course, that's entirely my fault, right?" you continued. "At least according to my mother. They started fighting more often, and she went back to the booze and meth. Stopped giving a shit about everything. Going to work, paying bills, making sure I went to school, whether or not I even ate. Only thing that mattered was where the next fix was going to come from." You took a breath. This next part was the hardest, and Tony was the only one you'd ever told the entire truth of the matter to.

"And with Mom incapacitated, boyfriend feels he's got free reign," Bucky supplied for you.

"Yeah," you swallowed, grateful you hadn't needed to actually say it, yourself.

"Pocket," Bucky began, "that's aw--"

"There's more," you admitted before he could continue. "Darren liked to bet on horses but, like absolutely everything else he ever did, he was complete shit at it. Ended up owing some horrible guys a lot of money. There was no way in hell he'd have been able to come up with it, so he... proposed a trade."

"God," Bucky breathed. "Oh, Pocket. I am so, so sorry."

"Thanks," you said, wishing that was the end of it, but knowing that you still weren't finished. "Darren realized he had a valuable commodity that a, uh, certain kind of man would pay good money for, and he wasn't just going to let such a lucrative income stream go to waste. He was an idiot, but he wasn't that dumb."

Next to you, Bucky sucked in a breath. You could practically feel him vibrating with anger for your younger self. "How long?" he asked through gritted teeth.

"Seven years, more or less. When I turned 18, I grabbed every important document I could get my hands on, hightailed it to Boston and never looked back. But the memories, the nightmares? They still haunt me. Even after all this time, they’ve never fully gone away. So, you know, I get it."

There was silence for a moment, but then Bucky cleared his throat and asked: "Where is he now?"

"He's got himself a nice little plot of land in Pensacola," you said, a smile ghosting your face.

"So, he got off Scott-free." Bucky's voice was a low growl.

"Oh, I didn't say that, you said slyly. "That nice little plot is a pauper's grave at Pensacola Federal Prison Camp. Bastard got himself shanked in the slammer about ten years ago. Happiest day of my fucking life.

Bucky's laugh was low and dry. "What about your mom? Please tell me she got what she deserved, too."

You shifted slightly, propping your head up onto your hand. "Honestly, I have no idea what happened to her. The way she drank, she's probably long dead by now, and I could honestly not care less. That's why I have everyone call me Pocket." Bucky moved to mirror your position, using a pillow to prop himself up instead of an arm, so you were laying eye to eye, only a few inches separating your faces.

"Okay, explain to me how that makes sense," he said, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, his warm breath fanning pleasantly across your skin.

His touch was gentle and you found yourself subtly leaning into it. "My legal name is (Y/N)," you told him. "It was my mother's name, too. I know that 'Pocket's a ridiculous nickname, but when people call me that, it's like I'm someone else, someone new. I'm not that scared little girl that had all those horrible things happen to her. I'm someone I made myself into." Your voice had dropped to barely a whisper as you admitted it to him.

He studied you for a moment before speaking, voice low. "Thank you for trusting me with this, Pocket."

You let out a small laugh. "I think we might need to make each other some matching friendship bracelets or something after all of this sharing," you told him. Bucky laughed with you, and the tension that had been hovering in the air lessened. You hadn't meant to get so deep into your personal history, or to get emotional, but sharing your story with Bucky brought you a sense of relief; at the very least, you'd helped take Bucky's mind off of his own nightmares, even if it had meant delving back into your own.

You both fell silent for a moment, and then Bucky spoke again, his voice soft and hesitant. "Pocket, can I ask you something? A favor?"

You looked at him, noticing how his eyes glinted in the dark. "Yeah, of course, Bucky. What's up?"

He swallowed audibly, his grip returning to your hand. "I don't want to overstep or make you uncomfortable, so maybe this is too much to ask, but… do you think… maybe we could… I don't know… be there for each other? You know, when we have nightmares? Just... hold each other, maybe?"

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, your mind suddenly racing with implications. Was he suggesting what you thought he was suggesting? Did he want to… cuddle with you? Your body was suddenly acutely aware of how close you were to him, of the heat that radiated off of his body. You licked your lips before answering, your voice coming out a little huskier than you intended. "I mean… I wouldn't be opposed to that. If you think it would help, then I'm all for it."

Bucky let out a small sigh of relief, his hand moving to cup your cheek, his thumb rubbing soothing circles. "Thank you, Pocket. You have no idea how much it means to me."

You leaned into his touch, a shiver running down your spine at the gentleness of it. "I think I might. I mean, I don't know exactly what you went through, but I know what it's like to feel scared and alone."

Bucky leaned in, his lips brushing against your forehead as he whispered, "Neither of us have to be alone anymore. We'll be here for each other."

And then, without another word, he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you close to his chest. You could feel the beat of his heart, steady and strong, and the warmth that radiated off of him made you feel safe, taken care of. You wrapped your arms around him in return, feeling a new sense of peace and security you hadn't known in a long, long time. Maybe ever.

*

The next morning, you awoke with Bucky's arm wrapped around your stomach, your back pressed against his chest. Your sleep shirt had ridden up in the night, so his fingers were splayed across your bare skin. Everywhere your flesh touched felt like it was on fire.

"Good morning," he muttered, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck.

"How'd you even know I was awake?" you croaked sleepily. “I barely moved.”

"Can hear it in the way you breathe," he said, tightening his arm around your middle. "Super soldier hearing."

"Well, that's not creepy." You huffed out a laugh, then made to get up to start your day, but Bucky held you tighter and pulled you even closer to his chest.

"Uh, Buck," you said, slowly, "I kinda need to get up."

"But you're so warm and soft, Pocket," he began running his fingers up and down the meridian of your stomach, eliciting a small shiver from you at the sensation. "Just five more minutes, okay?" You knew this was a bad idea. You knew it. You glanced at the clock. You had a training session with Sam in an hour.

"I guess five minutes wouldn't hurt," you muttered, snuggling back down into the bed.

You were twenty-five minutes late for your session with Sam, but you couldn't find it within yourself to feel bad about it.

Chapter 2: Unspeakable

Chapter Text

From that night on, Bucky found every excuse he could to touch you. It was as though, after so many years of nothing but cold cruelty, he had become addicted to the warmth and softness of your skin. You didn't mind in the least; you liked the way he wrapped his arm around your stomach and rested his chin in the crook of your shoulder when he came up behind you, or the way he pulled your hand onto his thigh and traced the lines of your palm with his index finger while you watched TV in the common room, side by side.

One afternoon, you were standing in front of a monitor in your lab, lost in thought as the numbers from your latest algorithm trial ran across the screen. So immersed were you in the data that you didn't notice the form coming up behind you until two hands grabbed you by the waist, lifting you up and spinning you.

Without thinking, your years of training kicked in, like flipping on a switch. You stomped down, hard, on the top of your assailant's foot with your heel, while simultaneously throwing your elbow back into their solar plexus. The attacker let out a low "Oof" and released their hold on you, giving you the opportunity to drop your weight low and spin on your toes to face them.

Bucky stood stooped before you, one hand clutching his abdomen where your elbow had made contact, the other hand held up in surrender. The other hand?

"Jesus Christ, Buck!" you panted. "You scared the shit out of me!"

"I was trying to surprise you, you hell beast," Bucky said, though he was smiling. Rubbing the tender spot of nerves you had so artfully disturbed, he asked "Where'd you learn to fight so dirty?"

"Krav Maga," you beamed, pleased that you'd managed to get a hit on a super soldier, even if Bucky hadn't been actually attacking you. "Care to tell me how you managed to end up with two fucking arms?"

Now it was Buck's turn to beam at you as he held out his new left arm for your perusal. You took the hand, inspecting it. Black metal gleamed in the light of your lab. You turned the arm over, admiring the craftsmanship. "This is a thing of beauty, Buck," you murmured, trailing your fingers along the gold veins that ran through the metal. Bucky involuntarily shivered at your touch. "You can feel that?" you asked him, awestruck. He nodded, his face awash in delight.

You leaned in to examine it more closely. If you didn't know any better, you'd say it was... But, no, it couldn't be– "Bucky," you said in astonishment, looking up to meet his eye, "is this vibranium?"

Bucky grinned from ear to ear, looking like a little boy who had gotten just what he'd asked for for Christmas. "It was a gift. From the Wakandans, for helping them capture Helmut Zemo." Bucky seemed almost shy at revealing why the Wakandans had gifted him the arm, as though he was still uncomfortable with being acknowledged for doing good instead of being blamed for committing evil.

"This..." you started, at a loss for words. "Bucky, this is amazing! The Wakandans are the most technologically advanced nation on the planet. This makes the arm I've been working on look like a fucking stick."

Bucky cocked his head and studied you as you studied the vibranium appendage. "You were making me an arm, doll?" he asked, throat choked on emotion.

You looked up at him, a blush of color rising to your cheeks. "Well, I was trying to. I wasn't going to say anything until I knew it would work; I didn't want to get your hopes up, but this... this is worlds better than anything I could have manufactured."

Bucky gently pulled his metal arm from your hand and used it to cup your cheek, instead. You leaned into the cool, hard metal. "That's the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me," he murmured. You gave him a soft smile.

"You're one of my best friends, and you deserve all the good things," you told him with a shrug of your shoulder. "Including two functioning arms."

Bucky pulled you into a hug and you returned his embrace, relishing in the feeling of being completely held by him. "I don't know what I'd do without you, Pocket," he said into the top of your head.

You pulled back to look up at him. "Well, hopefully, you'll never have to find out." You stayed like that for a few moments longer, neither of you willing to be the first to let go. "You know what," you said, eventually pulling away from him, "we should celebrate."

Bucky looked down at you with a glint in his eye. "Celebrate, huh? What should we do?"

"Anything you want," you told him, moving out of the cage of his arms. Arms. You still couldn't believe it. "It's your arm we're celebrating."

He studied you for a moment, and there was a look in his eyes you couldn't quite decipher. As the heat of Bucky's gaze lingered on you, a shiver ran down your spine. There was something different about the way he looked at you now, something that made your heart race and your palms grow sweaty. It was as if every fiber of his being was focused solely on you, his eyes tracing every contour of your face with an almost alarming intensity.

"Can we start those Hobbit movies?" he asked.

"That's how you want to celebrate?" you smiled up at him. "You're such a fucking nerd. Yeah, we can absolutely do that. Oh, shit--" you remembered. "It's Girls' Night tonight. It’s fine– I can skip it."

"No," said Bucky, and the look he'd been giving you had vanished, leaving you to wonder if you'd simply imagined it to begin with, "go to Girls' Night. I know how much you look forward to those."

"I said we'd celebrate, and I want to celebrate," you insisted. "I can bow out of Girls' Night early. I'll just pop in, have one glass of wine, and then I'll be all yours; they can manage without me for a night."

Bucky hit you with his devil-charming grin. "All mine?" he asked, a mischievous lilt to his voice.

Rolling your eyes, you playfully slapped at his chest. "You know what I mean, asshat."

"Another dollar in the jar," he tsked.

"Get the fuck out of here and let me get back to work," you said with a laugh, shooing him away. You followed him with your eyes as he made his way to the door. Right before he went through, he turned around and looked back over at you, giving you a parting smile before walking off.

*

Since there were only four women who lived full-time at the Tower (you, former KGB assassin-turned SHIELD spy-turned Avenger, Natasha Romanoff, Tony's long-time romantic partner and Stark Industries CEO Pepper Potts, and, most recently, Sokovian witch Wanda Maximoff), you all made an effort to get together once a month for a Girl's Night, to relax, catch up, and just spend time in each other's company.

"So, what is going on between you and Barnes," Natasha asked when you explained why you needed to cut out early tonight.

You looked at her, confused. "There's nothing going on between me and Barnes," you told her. "We're just friends, Natty."

"You and I are 'just friends,' Pocket, and you don't see me with my hands all over you, 24/7," Nat smirked.

"No one's stopping you, Natasha." With a wink, you grabbed her hand and put it on your boob. She gave it a quick squeeze, but then said:

"Seriously, he's all over you like government money on a bad idea."

You shrugged. "He just likes physical touch, that's all. It's, like, his love language or something."

"I'll bet it is," Pepper said coyly, taking a sip of wine from her oversize glass. Girl's Nights always came with a few bottles of Tony's finest vintage. "Can’t say I’ve seen him touching Steve like that, though. Then again, who can say what those two get up to behind closed locker room doors?"

"Pepper!" Wanda swatted at her, pretending to be scandalized. "I'm sure if Pocket says there's nothing going on between her and Bucky, there's nothing going on." She shot you a wicked look. "Of course, I could always read her mind to get the truth out of her."

Nat clapped, delighted. "Oh my God, yes! Please do it, Wanda! Get all of Pocket's dirty little secrets!" All three of the women turned to look at you with hopeful expressions.

"Go ahead," you told Wanda dismissively. "I've got nothing to hide where Bucky's concerned."

The Scarlet Witch did a little shimmy of excitement. "Oh, yay! No one ever willingly lets me look into their heads," she said. "This'll be good practice! And I promise," she added, solemnly, "I’ll only look at your memories of Bucky, nothing else." Her fingertips began to glow red as she raised her hands to your temples. You weren't sure what you were expecting, but it was like a warm buzzing sensation ran through your brain. It felt really--

"Fucking cool," you muttered.

"There's another dollar in the jar," Pepper joked, causing you to stick your tongue out at her.

"Boo," said Wanda, pulling back after a moment. "She's telling the truth. Nothing's going on between them. They're just disgustingly best friend-y. They're just sleeping together."

"I knew it!" Nat shouted in triumph.

"No, I mean, they actually just sleep together. No sex. Just some light cuddling," Wanda clarified. "Not even an occasional groping."

Nat and Pepper groaned in unison.

"Well, that's disappointing," Nat said, throwing back a good sized mouthful of wine.

"She does still have that leather jacket of yours, Nat," Wanda added, giving you a wink.

Natasha feigned outrage. "You thief! You said you lost it!"

"I thought I lost it," you amended, giving Wanda a dirty look. "I just found it the other day when I was unpacking my go-bag. I'll get it back to you."

Nat gave you a skeptical glare. "I'll believe it when I see it, but back to you and Barnes," she said.

"I don't know why you all care so much," you lamented, refilling your own glass. "Pep, you and Wanda have your own relationships we could be talking about, and Nat, you never tell us what's going on between you and Bruce-- I have to hear everything second-hand from Clint, which you know is so weird-- so I'm not sure why I have to be the focus of attention."

"Okay, first of all," Wanda said, "I adore Vision with all of my heart, but Bucky Barnes? Oof. I'd let that man do unspeakable things to my body."

"Wanda!" The three of you stared at the normally reserved Sokovian with open mouths.

"What?" She shrugged, a tinge of pink creeping up her cheeks. "He's gorgeous. It's an objective fact."

You shook your head, trying to wrap your brain around what she just said. You knew Bucky was handsome; you'd known from the first moment you saw him, but as your friendship had blossomed, you had sort of... stopped paying attention to it? Who he was as a person had become far more important to you than what he looked like. Sure, there were moments when you would be reminded of just how attractive he was, but they always hit you like a ton of bricks because you never focused on it for very long, so it seemed so easy to forget and just see him as Bucky, your best friend-- kind, funny, smart, loyal Bucky.

"And he's just gotten better looking the longer he's been here," Nat added. "I wouldn't be able to keep my hands off of him, either, Pocket, if I wasn't afraid he'd rip my arms off for trying."

You rolled your eyes at your friend, but she was right-- Bucky had gotten so much better the longer he'd been at the Tower, but that was because he was taking care of himself. He was getting more sleep, so his eyes had lost their dark circles and their sunken, hollow look. He'd been eating better and had put on some weight-- all of it muscle, broadening his shoulders and thickening his thighs. He'd cut his hair short and shaved his beard, leaving just a hint of stubble.

"What are you smiling at?" Pepper teased, pulling you from your thoughts.

"Hmm? Oh. Just thinking about how much better Bucky's been doing since he got some stability in his life and people who care about his well being. While you all sit here objectifying a senior citizen prisoner of war like he's a piece of meat," you teased. "What are you, men?"

"Wow," said Nat with a laugh, "way to make us feel like assholes." You just smiled and sipped your wine.

"If the butt plugs fit..." Natasha picked up a couch pillow and threw it at you. You were able to dodge it easily, so you knew the assassin hadn't been actually trying to hit you, though you did have to carefully balance your wineglass to prevent it from spilling all over the couch.

"Ladies," Pepper warned. It wasn't the first time your banter would have devolved into an expensive dry cleaning bill.

"Sorry, Mom," You and Nat sang in unison, wicked grins on your faces.

*

About an hour later, you were getting ready to watch the first Hobbit movie. You'd changed into your pajamas and were getting your movie snacks in order. Bucky was sprawled atop your mattress; the two of you hardly slept apart anymore, and you alternated whose room you stayed in. Tonight was your turn to host the Nightmare Sleepover, as you'd come to call it.

"How was Girl's Night," Bucky asked as he watched you put on your lotion.

"Interesting," you replied, rubbing the lilac-scented balm into your skin. You knew how much he loved the smell of it, so you always made sure to have it on hand. "They think we're sleeping together, so they wanted all the salacious details."

"Doll," he chuckled, rolling onto his side to get a better view of you, "we are sleeping together."

You shot him an arched glance. "You know what I mean."

Bucky fiddled with his vibranium thumb and looked up at you through his lashes. "What did you tell them?"

You plopped yourself next to him on the bed, grinning. "Well, obviously, I told them you're hung like a horse and have the stamina of a steam engine, but that you always cry after you come and you insist on calling me 'mommy.' It’s fairly off-putting."

"You are an absolute menace!" He lunged for you and began tickling you without mercy. You fought him off as valiantly as you could, but you were no match for a super soldier and you both knew it.

"Yield!" you cried, breathless, a few moments later. "I yield!" He reluctantly let you go so you could catch your breath. "I told them the truth-- we're just friends," you said once you could talk again, "but they all think you're very sexy and one of them-- and I will not say which one-- said she would let you do, and I quote, ‘unspeakable things to her body.’"

Bucky's face lit up like a Christmas tree; you knew how much he relished any kind of praise. It was like physical touch-- he had been deprived of it for so long, he was starved for it. "Was it Natasha? It was Nat, wasn't it?"

The readiness at which he jumped to that conclusion left a gross feeling in the pit of your stomach. All you could do was give him a tight-lipped smile and shrug your shoulders, playing coy. You definitely did not want to examine why his comment made you feel so icky.

"We should get this movie going," you told him, instead. "Otherwise we'll be up all night." Bucky fluffed up your pillows against your headboard while you fiddled with the remote to queue up the film. Because this was Tony's place, you didn't have a regular television. Instead, your room was equipped with a projector embedded in the ceiling, and the entire wall opposite your bed was the screen. It was as good as a movie theater.

"Are you excited?" you asked as you leaned back against the pillows next to Bucky.

"Are you kidding me?" he said, scooting closer to you until your shoulders were touching and passing you an open pack of Twizzlers. "Watching an adaptation of my favorite book with my best girl? I've been looking forward to this since the moment you told me there were movies."

A warmth flooding your insides like liquid sunshine. You poked his mouth with a Twizzler until he opened up and ripped a bite off of it. Grinning, you took a bite and rested your head on his shoulder, feeling completely content in this moment with your best friend.

*

"I've been meaning to thank you," Steve said as he stood over your shoulder. It was about a week after your movie night with Bucky, and you and Steve were working a mission together in Eastern Latvia. He'd already cleared the facility of hostile agents, allowing you the time you needed to infiltrate the site's computer systems and copy all necessary files for extraction back to the US government’s counter-terrorism task force. It was something you'd done a hundred times before, and could probably do with your eyes closed.

"Thank me for what? We've done this dance plenty of times." Your eyes narrowed as you concentrated on the computer code, fingers moving almost too fast for your own eyes to follow. You had nearly done it- the breach was wide open, and the terrorists' files were all laid out before you. The hard part was over, now it was just a matter of copying them over securely.

"Not the mission," he clarified, clearing his throat. "I wanted to thank you for what you've done for Bucky, for being there for him. I... I know you don't like me and things between us haven't been the same since Berlin, but it means a lot to me, knowing that he can call you a friend."

You paused, fingers hovering over the keyboard, and stared blankly at the screen, not able to look at him in the moment. "I never disliked you, Steve," you began, slowly, choosing your words with care, "but you broke us. You had your reasons, I get that, and maybe, to you, they seemed like good ones, but you fractured our family instead of trying to find a way for all of us to work through it, together. The only reason we're even in this room right now is because, by some grace of God, Tony was able to put his ego aside and offer you an olive branch to come home. We might look whole on the outside, but the cracks are still there. And they're always going to be. They'll never fully heal.

"So, it's not that I don't like you anymore. It's that I can't trust you. Not right now. Because I don't know if you're going to break us again." Your voice cracked by the end, but you felt surprisingly lightened, as though a massive weight had been lifted from your shoulders, and you realized just how desperately you had needed Steve to know how his actions had affected, not just you, but the others, as well. None of you had wanted to be forced to take sides in the civil war between Iron Man and Captain America; it had felt like burning down your own house, but in the end they had left you no choice. You'd already had it out with Tony. He'd apologized in the only way a man like him knew how-- with a brand new Ferrari that you were too anxious to drive and an obscene raise to your salary, but you'd never spoken about it with Steve. He'd seemed too content to act as though nothing had changed, like he hadn’t upended your entire existence.

You heard him clear his throat above you and you looked up. He was looking away from you, his face impassive, save for a tic in jaw. You'd known him long enough to see he was working on holding back his emotions.

"That's fair," he said softly. "That's entirely valid, and fair. And for what it's worth, I'm sorry. I was so caught up in trying to bring back my best friend that I didn't realize I was throwing away my family." He stole a glance down at you and caught your gaze; you could see his eyes shining. "I'll do better, Pocket. I'll do better for all of us, and I’ll especially do better for you."

His words didn't heal the wounds on your heart, but they did make them hurt a little less. You flashed him a small smile of gratitude, amazed that just his acknowledgement of the pain he'd caused you could be such a soothing balm to your anger. "Thanks, Cap. I appreciate it." He smiled at your use of the nickname; you hadn't called him anything but Rogers in forever. “And, for what it's worth," you added as the computer began beeping, signaling the transfer of files was complete and your objective had been reached, "I'm grateful you brought Bucky back with you. I can't imagine not having him in my life now." You stood up and pocketed the flash drive that now contained 18 months worth of terrorist plans. "Now, what do you say we blow this fucking Popsicle stand?" You gave him a cheeky grin as you deposited a small detonator on top of the computer server.

Steve returned your smile and offered a flourished "After you" as the two of you made your way out of the facility. Once you had cleared the perimeter, he gave you the all clear, signaling you to set off the detonators. You watched together as the building imploded into a spectacular fireball. Your relationship may not have been fully cured, but it had finally begun the process of healing.

*

When the Quinjet landed back at the Avengers’ Tower, Bucky was waiting for you in the landing bay. You'd only been gone for four days, but as soon as he saw you start down the gangplank, he ran to you, picking you up and spinning you in circles until you squealed.

"Buck! Put me down before I throw up on you!"

"Can't, Pocket," he said, though he did stop spinning you. "Missed you too much. Physically impossible to let you go."

Steve followed shortly behind you, rolling his eyes at his best friend's theatrics. "No love for your old war buddy, Barnes?"

Bucky laughed, finally putting you down to give Steve a brief, one-armed hug. "Glad you're back safe, too, Stevie," he said. "And thanks for bringing my Pocket home in one piece."

Steve pulled you close in a side hug, the earlier tension that had existed between the two of you having faded since you had a chance to clear the air. "You should be thanking her for bringing me home in one piece. The girl's deadly with plastic explosives."

You shoved him away from you playfully. "Please, Stevie," you teased. "If you just learned the first thing about computers, you could have done the whole mission on your own, you wouldn't even have needed me."

"Always gonna need you, Pocket," Steve said, ruffling your hair. "You're family." You gave each other stupid grins before he hefted his go-bag over his shoulder. "I'm gonna go grab a shower and get some sleep. I'll see you kids later." He walked off into the belly of the tower, leaving you and Bucky alone.

"Ugh, I can't wait to get out of this tac-suit," you moaned. "I always feel so filthy after a mission with explosives, you know?" Bucky gave you a curious look as he leaned down and grabbed your go-bag for you. "Such a gentleman," you smiled at him as you led the way back to your room.

You went straight into the bathroom and unzipped the top of your tac-suit, pulling it down over your arms until it was hanging from your waist. With a sigh of relief at being freed from the confines of the heavy poly-carbonate blended fabric, you washed your face and started brushing your teeth.

"So, how was the mission?" Bucky called from where he was sitting on your bed.

"Goo!" you managed to get out around a mouthful of toothpaste.

"Good, good." He paused. "So, um, it's not really my business or anything, but did something happen... between you and Steve? While you guys were gone? Like, did you guys, I dunno... sleep together?"

You nearly choked on your toothpaste and quickly spat it out in the sink before coming out of the bathroom.

"I'm sorry," you said, pointing your toothbrush at him accusingly. "Did you just ask me if I had sex with Steve Rogers?"

He wouldn't look at you. "Like I said, it's none of my business. It's just that, before you guys left, you were always kind of, I dunno, angry at him? And then you get off the plane and you're hugging and he's got his hands in your hair and you’re calling him ‘Stevie’. So, I was just wondering if something happened."

"And your brain immediately jumped to us sleeping together?" You asked him, incredulous. He looked up at you. "Seriously? We just talked. Lanced some bad blood that had been festering between us since Berlin, so we can work on being good again, be a family again." You noticed he was staring at you, mouth slightly opened. "What?" you asked him.

He motioned vaguely toward your chest, and you looked down to realize your tac-suit was still hanging half off of you and you were standing in front of him in just a purple push-up bra.

"Oh for fucks' sake, Barnes. They're just tits." You stalked over to your dresser and pulled out a t-shirt and slipped it over your head. "Better now?"

He shook his head as if a spell had been broken over him. "Uh, yeah. So, you didn't sleep with Steve," he reiterated.

"No, I did not. To begin with, he's family. There's a major ick factor. And second--, no. That's really it. The idea is super gross."

"Good," Bucky chuckled. "I love Steve like a brother, but I didn't love the idea of sharing you with him."

You started shimmying yourself out of the pants of your tac-suit and tossed it into your hamper. "Yes," you deadpanned, "because you know how much I love being compared to an object that can be owned and thus shared among friends. Not emotionally triggering for me at all."

Bucky had the decency to look chastised. "You know that's not what I meant."

"Relax, Barnes," you teased as you stepped into and pulled up a pair of shorts. "I'm just giving you shit." You ruffled his hair. "I may be emotionally scarred and have more baggage than the cargo hold on an airplane, but at least I can laugh about it."

Bucky rolled his eyes at you, but there was a smile on his lips. "You're something else, you know that?"

You grinned at him. "I'd like to think so. Makes your life so much more interesting, don't you think?"

Bucky nodded in agreement. "Definitely. You're never boring, that's for sure."

You chuckled and flopped down on your bed next to him. "So, what about you? Any juicy drama while I was gone?"

"Hmmm, let's see..." Bucky thought for a moment. "I'm pretty sure Nat and Banner were fucking in the lab the other day."

"No!" you gasped, sitting up.

"Yeah; I needed some calibration done on my arm, and since you weren't here, I went down to Bruce's lab to ask him to help, but the doors were locked. I was about to turn around and come back later, when the door opened up and Nat came rushing out, won’t acknowledge me or make eye contact, and I swear her shirt was on inside out. I get inside and Banner's actively tucking his shirt back into his pants."

You cackled at the mental image, kicking your legs in the air with delight. "Oh, that's amazing. Finally, those two crazy kids got together. I'll have to find some way to get Nat to give me all the dirty, dirty details."

"Ugh, if you do, please keep them to yourself," Bucky moaned. "Last thing I need is a mental picture of Banner's mini-Hulk."

"Hey now, I'm sure Bruce is perfectly proportionate," you teased. Then you got serious. "I gotta admit, I'm a bit jealous."

"You have a thing for Bruce?" Bucky asked, eyes wide with astonishment. "I would never have guessed he's your type."

"What?! No!" You playfully shoved him. "Same reason I'm jealous of Tony and Pepper, Wanda and Viz, Clint and Laura. You and your left hand, Sam and whoever he's dating this week. It just must be nice to be in a relationship, you know? To have someone to share that part of your life with."

Bucky cocked his eyebrow, but nodded, understanding your meaning and letting your joke about his left hand slide. "So, what's stopping you from going out and getting one for yourself, Pocket? You're smart, funny, gorgeous. You could date anyone you wanted."

You leaned back, making yourself comfortable against your pillows and heaved a heavy sigh. "Oh, you know, just the usual: Trauma, trust issues, fear of abandonment. All of that fun stuff." Bucky gave you a look, and you knew he wanted you to take the conversation seriously, for once.

"Finnne," you whined. "After I... Once I started out on my own, I was... Well, I did everything I could think of to try to reclaim sex for myself, you know? It wasn't healthy, it wasn't smart, but I was young and stupid and I didn't know what else to do. I fully embraced my Slut Era, if you will. I can fuck someone without having a panic attack now, which, trust me, is a vast improvement from where I started, but making myself vulnerable for that emotional connection? To transcend something from just sex to a real relationship? I have no idea how to do that. It's like, I can open up one way, or the other; I can't do both. It's too much. If there’s even a hint of an emotional connection with a guy, I shut down. Close myself off. Like, it’s not worth the risk of getting hurt.”

"I understand," said Bucky, softly and simply, and you knew that he did. Your traumas were different, but the scars they had left on you were so similar. "I haven't been with a girl, physically, since 1944," he confided. "I don't know if I can trust anyone to be that open with, to share that part of me with. Not after everything that's been done to me. And I worry that I can't trust myself to let go, not without hurting someone."

You let out a long, low whistle. "That's gotta be some kinda celibacy record." You clapped your hand over your mouth. "You're a reborn virgin, James Buchanan Barnes!"

"Reached your quota for serious conversation, have you?" Bucky asked with a piqued eyebrow.

"You know it's not my strong suit," you conceded. "But seriously, man? 1944? Oof. Your balls must be black by now."

He gave you a look of disappointment, causing you to sigh.

"I know, I know," you said eventually. "You're trying to have a meaningful discussion with me and I'm being an immature ass, again. I'm sorry."

Bucky wrapped his arms around you and rested his chin on your shoulder. "You're not an ass, Pocket. You're just... I wish you could talk to me without feeling like you have to fall back onto your defense mechanisms, that's all. I want you to feel safe with me."

You turned your head to look at him. "Buck, I feel safer with you than anyone else on this entire fucking planet. You're my best friend and you know all of my deep, dark secrets. You know me better than anyone, but I’ve spent a lifetime building those defenses; they aren't all just going to fall down in a day, so that means an inappropriate joke or two is going to slip through every now and then.”

Bucky smiled at you and squeezed you a bit tighter. "I know, Pocket. And I adore you for it. But if you ever want to talk about anything serious, know that I'm here for you."

"I know," you said, leaning into him. "And thank you for being so patient and understanding with me. I get that I can be... a lot."

"No, you're just enough," he said. "Never think otherwise."

Chapter 3: Unbidden

Chapter Text

Slapping your American Express Black Card onto the polished mahogany bar, you made sure the bartender was giving you his full attention. "Everything my group orders tonight goes on my tab, got it?" you told him. "If Tony Stark tries to pay for a single thing, tell him it's already covered and if he has a problem with it, he can take it up with me." The bartender nodded, taking your card and depositing it with the other open tabs behind the bar. It was going to be a very lucrative night for the bar.

You'd all come to Gino's, a downtown dive of a place you all loved, to celebrate Bucky's clearance for missions. As a part of his presidential pardon for the Winter Soldier's crimes (completely unnecessary, in your opinion, because Bucky hadn’t been the one to commit them), he had been required to undertake 12 months of court-mandated therapy, and now that he had ten months under his belt, his therapist had signed her approval for Bucky to engage in real Avenger work, provided he was accompanied by another member of the team at all times for supervision. He'd be leaving tomorrow for a classified location with Steve and Sam; they'd be gone for about a week, so you'd wanted to commemorate the event and leave him with some positive memories before he left.

You rejoined your group in the far back, where you'd commandeered the largest corner booth and the surrounding tables. "Tonight's on me," you declared as you approached, "so drink up and eat well." Your friends cheered their thanks; Thor even banged his giant fist against the table in appreciation. You did a mock curtsey before coming to stand behind Bucky where he sat, draping your arms around his neck and shoulders and bringing your head down alongside his.

"Having a good time?" you asked him.

Bucky let out a soft chuckle, leaning back into your touch. "With you by my side? Always," he replied, his voice laced with affection. "But you didn't have to do this, doll. Pay for everything, I mean. We could have all gotten our own."

Letting go of his shoulders, you moved around to sit next to him. "Bullshit. My best friend is going on his first Avengers mission, this is the least I can do."

"Listen, man," said Sam Wilson, also known as The Falcon and, if you were being completely honest, one of your favorite teammates after Bucky, "I know things might have been different when you were younger, but in the 21st Century, when a lady offers to buy you drinks, the polite thing to do is just say 'thank you' and get hammered."

Bucky laughed and chugged down the beer he'd been previously nursing and took the bourbon you'd brought over for him from the bar. "Thank you, Pocket. Though, I don't think I'll be getting... hammered on anything here."

"You're most welcome, Buck," you said, patting his cheek, the stubble tickling at your palm. "But if you are looking to get hammered, I believe our resident God of Thunder has brought a little something extra you could sip on in between beers." You nodded your head toward Thor, who sat a few seats down, pouring a splash of Asgardian something from a flask into Steve's tumbler.

Bucky quirked an eyebrow. "Is that so? Maybe I'll take him up on that." The super soldier got up and, squeezing your hand, made his way over to Thor, who gladly poured a generous splash of spirits into Bucky's glass of bourbon.

You watched him for a moment as he sat and drank with Steve and Thor, a warm feeling building in your chest at the sight of him looking and doing so well. He'd made so much progress since he first arrived at the Tower and you were unbelievably proud of him.

"You've been good for him, Pocket," Sam offered with a raise of his glass. "But I gotta know, when are you two gonna stop tip-toeing around each other and make things official?"

You let out an agonized groan. "Not you, too, Sam. Why don't you and Natty get together and write some fanfic about it? That's about as close to reality as it'll get."

"What are Wilson and I collaborating to write smutty fanfiction about?" Natasha asked as she sat down in Bucky's vacated seat, passing you a shot glass.

"Za nashu druzhbu!" You toasted in unison before downing the sweet liquid. To our friendship!

"A Redheaded Slut shot? How very Natasha," you teased.

"Don't try to change the subject," Sam interjected. "Romanoff: (Y/L/N) and Barnes. They go together like Netflix and chill or what?"

Natasha's eyes lit up. "Absolutely! Oh my God; I'm so glad you see it, too. They're just screaming 'Let's fuck already,' right?!"

"I don't know that they haven't started already," Sam said, obviously pleased to finally have someone to talk about this with. "I've never seen Metalhead as content as when he's with Pocket. Figure she's gotta be doing something to keep a smile on his face, if you know what I mean." He waggled his eyebrows, setting Natasha off into a barking laugh.

"Jesus Christ, Sam!" you sputtered. "I'm sitting right fucking here!"

Sam gave you a sheepish smile. "Sorry, Baby Girl. 'M just calling it like I see it. And with you and Barnes, I see it."

"She's going to stick to the story that nothing's going on between them," Nat began.

"Because there is nothing going on between us," you interrupted.

"But I think we all know something is brewing between those two," she continued, as if you hadn't said a thing. "I mean, do you really think they're just sleeping in the same bed every night?"

"Hold up, hold up." Sam raised his hand to stop Nat. "You're telling me those two share a bed? How long has this been going on and why am I just hearing about it now?"

"Oh my god," you said, putting your head in your hands and wishing the floor would open up and suck you into a hell dimension. It had to be better than sitting here listening to the two of them talk as if weren't in the room.

"You didn't know?!" Nat's expression was incredulous. "Essentially since the moment Barnes moved into the Tower. They alternate whose bed they sleep in, but it's literally every. single. night."

"That's it," you murmured, though you were sure they weren't paying you any attention, "I am never telling you another thing, ever, Natalia." They weren't embarrassing you, per se. You felt no shame about your closeness with Bucky. It was more that you hated that they were making assumptions about him. You could take ones made about you; you'd been doing that your entire life, but Bucky was different. He was... fragile wasn't the right word, but it came close. You wanted to protect him from everything negative, including your friends gossiping about his alleged sex life.

"Guys, please," you said, loud enough to catch their attention. "I know that, whatever I say, it's not going to convince you that I'm telling you the truth, but I don't want Bucky to hear it, okay? You're just going to make him uncomfortable and he'll retreat into himself, close up. So, save it for when you're by yourselves, alright?"

The sincerity in your words caused Sam and Nat's gazes to soften as they looked at you. You hoped that, despite their ribbing, they understood that your concern for your shared friend was genuine, and that, of the three of you sitting at the table, you knew Bucky best.

"Alright," said Sam, "I'll drop it. For now. But know I've got my eye on you, Pocket." He gave you a shrewd look. "Don't think you can keep your secret from Ole Sammy forever."

You shook your head, annoyingly amused.

The evening moved on pleasantly: conversation and alcohol flowed, and you felt yourself loosening up as the shots you'd drank with Natasha worked their way through your system until you were sporting a pleasant buzz. Bucky eventually came back to join you at your table, eyes glassy and with a giant, dopey grin plastered across his face.

"How's that Asgardian liquor treating you, Buckaroo?" you asked him with a grin of your own, knowing full well he was sauced.

"'s real good, Pocket," he slurred, propping his head on his fist and gazing at you with a dreamy expression. "'s nice and tingly, like the sun is shining on my insides."

"I'm happy for you, Buck," you said with a laugh, shooting an amused glance over Bucky's head to Nat, who responded with a smirk of her own. "That's real good."

He put his arms around you and pulled you into him, almost tugging you off of your chair in the process. "No! You're real good. Sho good to me, all warm and fuzzy and pretty. Just wanna keep touchin' you, you know? 'Cause you make me think of happy things." He paused to nuzzle his face into your hair. "You're m'favorite person."

"You're my favorite person, too, Buck," you said, stifling a giggle, amused by this new soft, silly side of him.

"Me?" he squeaked--actually squeaked. You nodded and then let out a surprised squeal as he pulled you into his lap, holding you almost tight enough to be uncomfortable, his metal arm clinging you to his chest. But then he pulled his head back to look you in the eye, his face suddenly serious.

He slurred, leaning in closer. You could smell the sweet scent of the Asgardian liquor on his breath. "Don'tcha dare tell Stevie, though, doll" he hiccupped, "'cause he'd be real put out if he found out I was your fav'rite."

"Well, then we won't tell him," you assured him, casting a bewildered glance to Nat. She subtly shook her head, as if to say she was just as confused as you as to why Steve would care if Bucky was your favorite person.

Bucky nodded solemnly. "Good. Don't want 'im feelin' bad, but 'm not sorry. 'S not my fault, either. He had ages and he didn't do nuthin'. That's on 'im. Not on me, not on you. On 'im." He began petting your hair in long strokes, seemingly distracted by the feel of it and losing his original train of thought. "Mmmm, you're so pretty. M'pretty little Pocket."

"Why, thank you, my handsome soldier," you replied, tapping him playfully on the nose while wondering what the hell he had been going on about concerning Steve. You hoped he wasn't so drunk that he didn't remember this conversation in the morning, because you were going to press the shit out of him for details.

Oh, but then... the next song from the jukebox caught your attention, and you looked up as the opening bars of Flo Rida's Low filled the air.

"Oh no," moaned Nat with a trace of laughter. "You're gonna dance, aren't you?"

A broad grin broke across your face. You loved dancing to anything, but this song was your kryptonite. "I can't help it," you told her, "it calls me, I come. Let's go!" You stood up, taking Bucky's hand and trying to pull him along with you, but the super soldier just shook his head and refused to move. Apparently he wasn't that drunk. "Fine. Sam, Nat, dance with me."

"I'm coming, Baby Girl," Sam said, taking Nat's hand and dragging her to meet you.

As soon as you had the space, you began to move, the music pulsing through your veins, syncing perfectly with your heartbeat. You swayed your hips in time with the infectious rhythm, your body moving effortlessly to the beat.

You felt Sam come up behind you, placing his hands on your hips as he began to dance with you, bass thumping in your chests. You and Sam had danced together countless times before; he was one of the only ones in the Tower who enjoyed dancing as much as you did, so the two of you had had plenty of practice moving together. Your movements may have been completely innocent, but they gave the appearance of something much more intimate-- it was just the nature of the dance. You could feel the heat of Sam's body pressed against your back, the way his hands gripped your hips protectively. It was all in good fun, a playful dance between friends, until you felt Sam's hands fly from your waist as you were about to get low.

You spun around, finding Bucky standing where Sam had been just a few seconds before, Sam now several feet away, anger wearing heavy on his face.

"What the hell, man?" Sam barked at Bucky. "What'd you shove me for?"

Bucky, his face flushed and eyes narrowed with a combination of intoxication and something dark, took a step towards Sam. "Didn't shove ya, Wilson," he slurred, his words blending together. "Ya just...got in the way."

"Got in the way? Man, we were just dancing. How was I in your way?"

Bucky's jaw clenched, his metal arm flexing by his side. The atmosphere shifted, thick with tension, as if the air in the room had suddenly turned molasses-slow.

"Okay, boys." You stepped between them, hands down and palms open, trying to create as much distance between the two as possible. The last thing you wanted was a drunken argument devolving into some kind of brawl. "It's getting late, and we've all had a good amount to drink." You gave Sam a pointed glance. "Bucky, will you take me home to the Tower? I'm pretty tired and I think I'm ready to call it a night."

Sam nodded in understanding-- it would be a hell of a lot easier to get Bucky home in his current state if he thought he was escorting you, instead of the other way around.

"Yeah, 'course, Pocket," Bucky said, his eyes softening as he looked at you. You were able to call out your goodnights to the rest of the team and, leaving instructions with Nat to close out your tab at the end of the night, began making your way to the door. Bucky stumbled a bit, his balance compromised by the alcohol in his system. You wrapped an arm around him, steadying him as you both made your way outside.

Outside the bar, the cool night air was a welcome relief from the noisy atmosphere inside. Bucky leaned heavily against you, his arm draped around your shoulders for support.

"Fuck, Barnes. You're heavy," you groaned under his weight.

"Fuck me, Pocket," he slurred, head tilting to the side. There was that look in his eyes again. The same one you'd seen the day he'd gotten his new arm. You couldn't identify it, but it made the hair on your arms stand up straight.

"Yeah, that's exactly what I said." You could feel his warmth seeping through your clothes, his presence comforting even in his intoxicated state.

"You good to stand on your own for a second, soldier?" you asked him. "I need to hail us a cab."

Bucky nodded and you carefully eased yourself out from under his arm, scanning the street for a taxi. The bustling city night was alive with lights and sounds, creating a tapestry of urban energy that seemed to match the frequency of the electricity that ran through your brain.

God, did you love this city.

As you raised your hand to flag down a cab, you couldn't help but steal glances at Bucky, his hair in disarray, falling into his eyes and his lips slightly parted as he breathed in the cool night air. Even drunk and disheveled, he still looked so handsome. There was a softness to him in the moment that made him look younger, and for a second, you could imagine that beautiful, carefree young man who had been drafted to cross the sea to fight someone else's war, and had paid for it with even more than his life.

A taxi screeched to a stop in front of you, interrupting your reverie. You hurriedly opened the door and helped Bucky inside, sliding in beside him. The cab driver gave you both a curious glance before pulling away from the curb. Once you gave him the address to Avengers Tower, that look got more and more frequent as he kept checking his rear view mirror.

"Hey, eyes on the road, buddy," you snapped at him, probably putting more aggression into your voice than you had intended, but the way the cab driver was looking at the two of you made you uneasy.

The ride back to the Tower was quiet, the low hum of the taxi's engine serving as a backdrop to the thoughts swirling in your mind. Bucky slumped against you, his head resting on your shoulder as he dozed off. You gently ran your fingers through his hair, feeling the softness of it against your skin. The city lights blurred past outside the window, casting a hazy glow over both of you.

"Listen," the cabbie eventually began in his thick New Jersey accent, "sweetheart, ya seem like a nice girl, but I don't think ya know what you're dealin' with, here. That man right there's the Winter Soldier. He's a murderer, a nasty one. The kind that likes to take a sweet thing like you and do horrible things."

You rolled your eyes. If they were going to keep telling stories about the Winter Soldier, the least they could do was get the details right instead of making him sound like Ted Fucking Bundy.

"This nasty murderer is my best friend," you said, each word clipped and infused with the anger you felt on Bucky's behalf. "So, maybe you should stick with getting us to our destination instead of trying to lecture me on something you know absolutely nothing about."

The cabbie fell silent, his eyes darting nervously between the road ahead and the rearview mirror. You could tell that he was regretting his decision to say anything, realizing that he had struck a nerve. Or, you thought with an amused chuckle, afraid that you were just as nasty as the Winter Soldier. But you couldn't blame him entirely. The reputation of the Winter Soldier was notorious, and it was only natural for people to be cautious. You just wished they knew the name Bucky Barnes, and the actual man, himself, just as well.

You sighed and shifted your gaze to Bucky, still unconscious against your shoulder. It wasn't fair, you thought, how people judged him solely based on his past. Yes, there were dark chapters in his history, but he had fought tooth and nail to regain control over his life. He had redeemed himself in countless ways even before he had officially joined the Avengers.

As the taxi approached Avengers Tower, you leaned over and gently shook Bucky awake. His eyes fluttered open, confusion etched in his features for a brief moment before recognition set in.

"We're home, Buck," you whispered softly, trying to soothe away any lingering unease from your brief conversation with the cab driver. "Let's get you upstairs." You threw a handful of bills in the cabbie's direction, not even bothering to wait for him to give you your change; you just wanted out of his cab and away from his prejudice.

Bucky nodded, rubbing sleep from his eyes. With your help, he stumbled out of the taxi and leaned on you for support as you made your way into the building.

"'m sorry 'bout that, doll," he drawled as you passed the security desk, sending a quick wave to the night guard.

"Sorry for what, Buck?" you asked him. He was silent as you made your way to the elevator bay, waiting until you had pressed the button to summon the elevator car.

"'bout the cabbie." He avoided looking at you while you waited, and it was like a punch to your gut-- he'd heard everything that ignorant man had said. The elevator doors dinged open and you helped usher him inside.

You took a deep breath as you pressed the button for your floor, the retinal scanner making quick work to prove your identity and verify your security clearance. "Buck," you exhaled, "you have nothing to apologize for. That man was an asshole and an idiot."

Bucky leaned back against the elevator wall, his head thumping against the cool metal. "But he was right. I am a nasty murderer."

You could scream. You could strangle that cabbie with your bare hands. Bucky had been doing so well, had been having such a good night, and one person's careless remark had ruined all of it.

"Barnes," you said, turning to face him. "Look at me. Do you think I'm stupid?"

His eyes grew wide at the insinuation, even in his drunk state, he was with it enough to be taken aback by your question. "'bsolutely not, doll. You're the smartest person I know. Smarter than Stark, even, 'cause you can admit when your wrong." The compliment left you trying to hide a smile.

"Okay. Do you trust my judgment?"

"With my life," he breathed. The elevator opened to your floor, and you helped Bucky out into the hall and down the corridor toward his room. The soft glow of the hallway lights illuminated his features, casting a warm, intimate aura around the two of you.

"So, if I'm not stupid and you trust my judgment, trust me when I tell you are not what that man says you are. You are a good man who had too many horrible things happen to him. And despite all those horrible things, you are still the kindest, funniest, most gentle man that I know."

As you reached his door, Bucky turned to face you, his eyes filled with a mixture of gratitude and vulnerability. "Thank you, Pocket. Thank you for taking care of me, and for being my friend," he murmured, his voice hoarse with exhaustion and emotion.

A small smile played on your lips. "Always, Buck," you replied softly. "Now let's get you inside."

With a gentle push, you opened the door to his room and guided him over to his bed. Bucky collapsed onto the mattress with a heavy sigh, his body sinking into the softness beneath him. Once you'd pulled off his boots, you knelt down beside him, tucking the blanket around his shoulders.

As you straightened up, Bucky reached out and grabbed your hand, his grip surprisingly strong despite his intoxicated state. His gaze locked with yours, a mix of vulnerability and longing flickering in his eyes.

"I don't want you to leave," he whispered, his voice laced with a hint of desperation.

"I'm just going to hop over to my room to change into pajamas," you assured him. "I'll be right back. Promise." You smoothed his hair, trying to tame it from where it stood up in all directions.

"'kay," he said through a yawn, "but don't take too long. I got somethin' I need to tell ya. 's important."

"Okay," you told him, planting a kiss on his head. "I'll be just a minute." You hurried across the hall to your own room, changing into your pajamas and brushing your teeth in record time.

Re-entering Bucky's room, you were extremely curious as to what he'd wanted to say to you. "Alright, Buckaroo, I'm back. What did you--"

You smiled to yourself. Bucky was fast asleep, light snores emanating from him as he lay sprawled across the bed. You couldn't help but find him adorable in his slumber, especially with his hair sticking up in all directions.

With a soft sigh, you walked over to the side of the bed and gently sat down, watching Bucky's peaceful face. It was moments like these that reminded you of how much he had been through, how much pain and loss he had experienced. Despite his tough exterior, there was a vulnerability about him that tugged at your heartstrings.

You leaned in closer, unable to resist the urge to brush a stray lock of hair away from his forehead. Your fingers lingered on his skin for a moment longer than necessary, feeling the warmth radiating from him. The desire to protect and comfort him overwhelmed you, making your heart ache with affection, and something else that you couldn't quite identify.

Pulling down the covers, you climbed into bed next to him, snuggling up to his body for warmth. He grunted and wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer to him. It wasn't long before you drifted off into a slumber of your own.

*

When you awoke the next morning, he was already gone. You'd reached for him, only to find his side of the bed cold and empty, your hand landing on a note he'd left folded for you on his pillow.

Pocket,

We had to get an early start and you looked too peaceful to wake up. After dragging my drunk ass home last night, I figured you needed your sleep. Thank you for taking such good care of me last night. You're an amazing person and a better friend than a guy like me could ever hope for. Steve says the mission should only take a week, at most, but when I get back, I'd like to talk to you about something important.

Be a good girl while I'm gone.

I'll miss you.

Your Bucky xo.

A smile crept across your face. Your Bucky. You wondered what it was he wanted to talk to you about, and if it was the same thing he said he'd wanted to tell you last night, before he'd fallen asleep. You sighed, dreading the idea of going the next few days without him.

*

The mission was only supposed to last a handful days, a week, tops, but he'd been gone for close to two weeks, and you hated it. He was with Steve and Sam, off to God only knew where, doing God only knew what, and as there was no need for your tech skills, you'd been left behind. It was almost disconcerting how difficult it had been to be sleeping on your own again, and you found yourself sneaking into his room late at night after you'd been tossing and turning for hours, just to hold onto his pillow and inhale the familiar scent of cedar and leather.

On the thirteenth night, you were lying in your bed, staring at the ceiling. A glance at your clock told you it was almost 2am. You were debating whether or not you should go across the hall to Bucky's room to try to steal a few hours of sleep there so you wouldn't be completely useless tomorrow when there was a knock on your door. You bolted upright-- no good news came at 2am, and especially not in person.

You quickly padded to the door on bare feet, heart pounding and mind reeling at the thought of what could possibly be waiting on the other side-- had the mission gone horribly wrong? Had something happened to Bucky? God, you didn't even know what you would do with yourself if something bad had happened to him... The last thing you were expecting to find on the other side was the man, himself, leaning on the door frame, breathing heavily, tac-suit disheveled and bloodied.

You flung the door wide. "Buck?" you whispered. "What happ--" With a single step forward and without a word, his mouth was on yours, hands grasping your face and pulling you toward him in desperation. There was nothing gentle or romantic about the kiss-- it was ravenous and frantic, as though your lips were the only thing keeping him tethered to the ground.

You gasped against his mouth and pulled away, stumbling back a few steps to put some distance between you as you tried to make sense of what had just happened. He was staring at you with an intensity that made you feel the urge to squeeze your thighs together. There was a hunger in his eyes you had never seen before, and it was directed at you.

"Bucky," you breathed as his eyes roved over your body from head to toe and back again.

"Is that my shirt?" The corner of his mouth rose in a smirk. You looked down. You were wearing one of his shirts, having gone and pulled it out of his dresser one night when you were sick with missing him. Unfortunately, it was all you were wearing. You certainly hadn't gone to bed expecting post-midnight visitors.

"Yes?" you managed to squeak out. He stepped further into your room and, without even turning around, kicked your door shut in one fluid motion.

"Pocket," he practically growled --and dear God, why was the sound of his voice making you wet?-- "I missed you. So. fucking. much. You have no idea." He was on you again, this time his hands going under your ass and hoisting you up as he kissed you.

This is a bad idea, you thought as you found yourself kissing him back, opening your mouth to let in his tongue. This is a terrible, very bad idea. Yet you wrapped your legs around his waist and carded your hands through his hair as he walked you back to the bed. Future!Pocket can deal with the fallout tomorrow was your last cognizant thought before you let yourself give in fully to the sensation of your best friend's lips on yours.

When he got you to your bed, he laid you down, so gently you could scarcely breathe. He rested his body next to you, eyes never leaving yours as his hands gently stroked your face, your arms, your sides.

"Bucky," you moaned as his hands found their way under the hem of your shirt to caress your hipbone, "what is this?"

He leaned down, trailing feather-light kisses along your jawline, your neck, your collarbone. "Two weeks," he murmured in between kissing you. "Two weeks without touching you, feeling how soft you are. All I could think about was how you danced, with Sam's hands all over you. Thought I was going to go crazy. And then all that violence. Killing bad guys is still killing, and I still hate it. Needed to come home and feel something good. Needed to feel you." You felt him slide his hands under the waistband of your panties, skimming his way across your pubic bone until he was cupping your mound. You hitched a breath at the contact, hips inadvertently pressing up against his palm on their own accord.

"We're friends, Buck." You let out a low moan as his fingers began inching slowly lower, toward your center, just out of reach of where you were surprised to find you wanted him to be. You knew if you told him to stop, he'd do so in an instant, but the look of wanting in his eyes, of the absolute need he had for you had short circuited your brain, and you were willing to give him anything he asked for in that moment.

"Mmmm," he hummed as he slipped a single finger between your folds, teasing you, testing you, seeing how far you were willing to let him go as you squirmed beneath him. "Best friends. And we can still be best friends in the morning, but I need this now, Pocket. Pozhaluysta."

It was the please that did you in. There was something about the vulnerability in his voice, the desperation, that had you opening your legs to him, a silent invitation.

He smiled at you, so beautiful and pure, that you couldn't resist leaning up to kiss him again, and as you did, he ran a finger through your slick, coating himself in you, before plunging it inside you up to his knuckle.

You gasped at the unexpected intrusion, arching your back and pressing your chest against his. The feeling of his thick finger inside of you was exquisite. The number of times you had been intimate with someone simply because you wanted to be, and not because you were forced to, were few and far between, and if you were being honest with yourself, if you could have picked an ideal partner, it would have been Bucky.

"You're already so wet, doll," he whispered, nibbling on the soft skin of your neck, just at your pulse point. He was going to leave a mark, but it felt so good that you couldn't care. Yet, the feeling of having his finger inside of you paled in comparison to when he began pumping that finger, strokes long and slow, the palm of his hand grinding on your clit as he worked you. After a moment, a second finger joined the first, and then a third, and he curled them as he stretched you, hitting that soft, spongy part of you that had you seeing stars.

"Bucky," you panted, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt and pulling him closer as you gasped for air. "I'm-- I'm--"

"That's alright, doll," he whispered, the pace of his thrusting increasing as he brought you closer to the edge. "I want you to come for me, okay? Can you do that? Can you come around my fingers? God, you look so beautiful. Prosto otpusti menya, kukolka." Just let go for me, doll.

You couldn't even form a coherent word for him right now if you tried, in any language, so you just moaned and writhed, letting your body speak for you until you were coiling, coiling, coiling-- snapping and breaking, falling apart into a million pieces of light, internal walls fluttering around his fingers as a wave of euphoria washed over you, pulsating through every inch of your being with a ferocious intensity.

He kept working you through your release, prolonging the sensations, drawing out your whimpers and moans as your limbs shook with the aftershock.

"Good girl," he whispered, standing up, placing a chaste kiss on your forehead. "Such a good girl for me, and so pretty when you come, too."

You laid there, motionless as you tried to catch your breath. Did that really just happen? Did you seriously just get off on Bucky's fingers?

Propping yourself up onto your elbows, you opened your mouth to ask Bucky what this was going to mean for your friendship, but before you could get a word out, you were struck dumb by the sight of him before you. He had stripped himself of his tac-suit and was standing on the side of the bed in just his boxer briefs. You'd seen him shirtless before, he'd slept in only sweats often enough, but this was an entirely different level. The man was built like a marble sculpture. Even the jagged scars on his shoulder where flesh met metal were beautiful.

Bucky seemed to be moving in slow motion, and you weren't sure if he was being deliberate in his movements, or if you were just so rattled by the orgasm he had given you that time had become distorted, but you watched as he hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his boxer briefs and pulled them down over his thick thighs, until he was stepping out of them.

Your eyes followed his hand as it came back up and took a hold of his shaft, giving it one, two, three long, strong strokes.

"Yebena mat'," you whispered-- holy shit-- and he smirked at you; he always loved it when you spoke Russian to him. You'd always guessed Bucky was fairly well endowed, but you never imagined anything like this. He was long and thick, with a prominent vein snaking up the underside of the hard length of him as his hand traveled from base to tip, leaving a slick trail of pre-cum behind. His size alone was enough to make you shudder with need, and that combined with the way he moved around it -- like he knew exactly what he was doing and who he was doing it for -- made you feel as if you'd been thrown right back into that place of euphoria all over again.

Bucky closed the distance between you, his breath hot against your skin as he loomed over you. Your heart raced, anticipation coursing through your veins as he gazed down at you with intense desire in his eyes. You lifted yourself up, eager to explore every inch of his sculpted body with your hands and lips. As his hand ran along his length, you couldn't help but bite your lip in anticipation. "I don't know whether to be scared or excited," you whispered, aching for him in a way you'd never known.

With a soft smile, Bucky kissed the tip of your nose before retrieving a condom from your bedside drawer-- how did he even know where you kept them?-- and rolling it on his length. "There's nothing to be scared of," he reassured you in a low voice. "I promise, Pocket, I'm going to make you feel so good." And with that, he entered you, filling you completely and igniting a fire within you until you were begging to burn. His movements were skillful and deliberate, each thrust pushing you closer to an edge of ecstasy that seemed perpetually out of reach. With every stroke, he broke down your barriers until you were grinding against him in pure bliss, lost in a world of pleasure you could never have imagined he would create for you.

"You take me so damned well," Bucky grunted into your ear. "The perfect little Pocket for my cock to sit in."

He grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head, pounding into you relentlessly, pushing past all your reservations and making you beg him for more. You never knew you could crave someone like this until now, and it was intoxicating. Pleasure coursed through your body as he took you to new heights, and you couldn't help but scream his name as he took you to the brink of ecstasy over and over again.

He kept thrusting until the very last wave of his own release was complete, before collapsing beside you. You laid there, breathless and panting, your head spinning with a million different thoughts and feelings. You couldn't believe that you'd just had sex with Bucky Barnes. You'd just had sex with your best friend.

Bucky shifted so that he was lying beside you, resting his head on the swell of your chest. "You okay, Pocket?"

You nodded, unable to muster up the words to express what you were feeling. Hell, you could barely process what had just happened between you.

"We don't have to talk about this if you don't want to," he said, pressing a kiss to your clavicle. "But I... Just... Thank you, Pocket. You have no idea how much I needed that. How much it means to me."

"We should talk about it, though," you said softly, almost regretting it as soon as the words left your mouth. But when it came to physical intimacy, you had too much emotional baggage to just act like this was nothing.

Bucky held perfectly still at your words. He wasn't looking at you, so you had no way of knowing what he was thinking, but you needed to be honest with him.

"That was..." you blew out a breath, "amazing. Seriously, well done. Five stars." You felt, rather than heard, him chuckle against your skin, and some of the post-coital tension between you dissipated. "But, I need to know what your expectations are going forward, Buck."

He tilted his head up to look at you, his eyes wide and open. "I don't have any expectations of you, Pocket. This can be a one-time thing, and we can pretend it never happened, or we can explore it. See where it goes. Whatever you want."

Whatever you wanted. What did you want? You loved Bucky with your whole heart. Probably more than you'd ever loved anyone, but did you love him like that? You'd never even stopped to consider it. You were attracted to him, obviously. You weren't blind, after all. But you were so damaged. You'd spent your entire adult life divorcing sex from your emotions, building a wall between the two. What if you tried this, and in the process, destroyed the best thing you'd ever had?

"I don't know how to do this, Buck," you whispered, and you knew he understood. Though your traumas weren't identical, they shared a foundation: forced into submission as your bodies were used for the whims and desires of others, against your will.

"Hey," he crawled back up to your face, planting small kisses along the tear stains on your cheeks. Shit. When had you started crying? "It's just you and me, okay? Just us. This," he motioned between your two bodies, "is something extra, a bonus. You told me a long time ago what your limits were, and I respect them. I understand them, and I'm not trying to make you go past them. We can have... what did Sam call it? A friends-with-insurance situation."

A snort escaped you as you swatted at him, relief washing over you at the knowledge that he knew you so well, that he wasn't pushing for more than you could give him right now. "It's 'friends with benefits,' you geriatric stooge." And then it hit you and you started to laugh.

"What?" Bucky asked suspiciously, propping himself up onto his metal elbow to look down at you.

"I just fucked a centenarian. Is that considered elder abuse?"

"I'm pretty sure I was the one doing all the pounding, so I think you're safe on that front," he said with a laugh.

That sound. God, you loved that sound. It was like a weight being lifted from your chest. You turned into him, resting your head against the hard planes of his chest.

"I don't want to ruin what we have, Buck," you confessed, your voice small and scared. "You're the most important thing in my life, and if I fuck up our friendship, I don't know what I would do."

He took a finger and placed it under your chin, tilting your face up until he met your eyes. "We're not going to fuck anything up, Pocket, I promise. This can be just sex, just another way for us to make each other happy." He ran his hand through your hair, cupping the back of your skull. "You always do such a good job of taking care of me, of making me feel good. Let me return the favor." He leaned down and kissed you again.

This kiss was softer, without the hunger he'd poured into the first time he kissed you, but no less consuming. You felt his tongue brush along the seam of your lips, so you opened your mouth, inviting him to deepen the kiss. He tasted like wintergreen gum.

"Just making each other happy," you whispered when you separated for air. "I can do that."

And in that moment, you actually believed it.

Chapter 4: Unwelcome

Chapter Text

You sat in your office, head bent over the latest budget requests from your lab staff. You tended to be pretty generous when it came to project funding, but this $15 million request for a proposed shrink ray had to be some sort of a joke. Did they want a lawsuit from Pym Technologies? A knock on your door drew your attention away from the submission in front of you.

"Come in," you called out, putting the shrink ray proposal in your rejection pile. Bucky entered your office, flashing you a seductive smile as he closed and locked the door behind him.

Leaning back in your desk chair, you let your eyes rove over his frame as he walked toward you. He'd obviously just come from the gym, his muscles glistening with a sheen of sweat and his t-shirt clinging to his sculpted chest. The sight of him made your heart race, and you couldn't help but feel a now familiar heat building between your legs. He looked absolutely gorgeous. "You're not my GrubHub order," you teased.

"Not your GrubHub," he said, coming around to sit on the edge of your desk, "but I bet I can fill you up just as good."

You both stared at each other for a beat before bursting into laughter. "Oh my God, Barnes," you groaned, standing up and wrapping your arms around his neck. "That was absolutely awful." You kissed him, relishing the feel of his laughter against your mouth. "I can't believe I willingly let you put your dick in me, jokes like that."

Bucky's laughter faded into a heated gaze as his hands traveled up your sides, sending shivers down your spine. "Well," he whispered huskily, his lips grazing against the shell of your ear, "I'm glad you let me, because all I can think about is doing it again."

"Then it's a very good thing you locked that door," you whispered back, trying to ignore the wetness his words sent straight to your panties.

His fingers traced the outline of your jaw, his feather-light touch igniting a trail of desire along your skin. The familiar weight of his presence grounded you, drawing you closer. Together, like this, it was as if you were the only two people in the world, as if no one else existed.

"I've been thinking about you all day," Bucky confessed, his voice laced with a mixture of longing and hunger. "Couldn't focus on anything else but getting my hands on you."

"I've been right here." You took a hand and palmed him through his sweats. He was already rock hard, ready for you.

"Tease," he moaned, slotting his lips over yours again.

Your breath hitched as he kissed you, a surge of electricity coursing through your veins. The heat between you intensified with each kiss, fueling the fire that burned deep within. The taste of him was addictive, and you wondered how you had spent over a year in his company without kissing him before now.

“Fuck,” he hissed, pulling back from you. “I don’t have a condom. I could go get one, come back…”

You shook your head, not wanting to delay another moment. You knew the serum made him immune to catching or passing on any STIs, and you were clean. “I’m on the pill, Bucky,” you said, bringing your lips to his again. “And I wanna feel you. So fucking bad.”

“Thank God for modern fucking medicine,” he grinned.

Bucky's hands roamed over your body, his touch leaving a trail of fire in its wake. He expertly unbuttoned your blouse without taking his mouth from yours, revealing the soft curve of your breasts. His lips trailed down your neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin.

"You seem to have forgotten your bra, Pocket," he murmured before taking his mouth to your nipple, swirling his tongue around it and sucking gently. Your knees weakened at the sensation, and you gripped onto his shoulders for support.

"Mmm, Bucky," you moaned, arching your back as he switched his attention to your other breast, giving it the same lavish treatment. The wetness pooled between your thighs, leaving you aching for his touch.

He stepped back abruptly, his eyes dark with desire as he reached down to unbutton your skirt. "I've been dying to taste you," he murmured, his voice thick with need.

You eagerly stepped out of your skirt, revealing the black lace panties that barely covered your soaking slit. Bucky's gaze darkened further as he looked at you, hungrily taking in every inch of your exposed body.

"Fuck," he breathed, stepping closer to you "You wear these just for me?" You just smiled at him, biting your lower lip. You had worn them just for him, but he didn't need to know that. With one swift motion, he lifted you up and placed you on the edge of your desk. The cool wood felt delicious against your heated skin as Bucky hooked his fingers around the sides of your panties, pulling them down your legs and stuffing them into the pocket of his pants.

"Thief," you chastised, but he only smirked at you as he dropped to his knees in front of you, his warm breath fanning across your slick folds as he hooked your legs over his shoulders.

You grasped the edge of the desk, your heart pounding in anticipation as he leaned forward and dipped his tongue between your swollen lips. A moan escaped you at the first touch of his velvety tongue against your throbbing clit. "Holy shit, Buck," you groaned. "Just like that."

"I knew you'd be delicious," he moaned into you.

Bucky's skilled tongue worked its magic, flicking and swirling with an expertise that sent waves of pleasure radiating through your body. Your head fell back, exposing your neck as you surrendered yourself to the sensations he was evoking. Each lick and suck was like an electric shock to your core, building the tension coiling within you.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, urging him closer as he devoured you with an insatiable hunger. The intensity of his ministrations brought you to the edge faster than expected, the coil within you tightening with an urgency that demanded release. You whimpered, your moans growing louder with each pass of his tongue.

"Bucky," you panted, pulling on his hair to drag him up. "Bucky I need you. I need you right now." Your voice was desperate, your body craving the feel of his thickness inside you.

Bucky's eyes were filled with a predatory glint as he stood up, his lips glistening with the evidence of your arousal. He swiftly rid himself of his sweats, releasing his swollen, throbbing length that begged to be inside you. The air crackled with tension as he positioned himself between your thighs, his hands gripping your hips firmly.

"Tell me what you want, sweetheart," he growled, his voice rough with desire.

You locked eyes with him, the intensity of your connection sparking a fire within you. "I want you inside me," you gasped, your voice filled with a desperate need.

Without any further warning, Bucky plunged into you with a force that stole your breath. The sensation of being filled by him, stretched and taken to the brink of reason, sent shock waves coursing through every nerve ending in your body. You cried out in ecstasy, the sound mingling with his own groan of pleasure.

"Jesus Christ, Pocket," he moaned, "you're so fucking tight."

He set a punishing pace, driving into you with a raw need that matched your own. The sensation of him sliding in and out of you sent sparks of delight shooting through your veins. Your hands clawed at his back, urging him to move faster, harder.

Each stroke hit that sweet spot deep within you, igniting fireworks in your body. The desk creaked beneath the force of your movements, the sound echoing throughout the room.

"Fuck," Bucky grunted, his hips slapping against yours with a primal intensity, "turn around."

He pulled out of you and flipped you, bending you over the desk before thrusting back into you from behind. The new angle allowed him to hit you deeper than before, and you could feel the tip of him kiss your cervix.

The desk continued to shake as Bucky pounded into you, the raw power behind each thrust pushing you closer to the edge of release. Your breath came in ragged gasps, your moans filling the air as ecstasy rippled through your body.

Sweat dripped down both of your bodies, glistening in the dim light of the office. The urgency between you was palpable, a desperate hunger that consumed every inch of your being. You could feel the tension building within you, coiling tighter and tighter.

"I'm...I'm so close," you managed to pant out, your voice strained with need. "Don't stop, Bucky."

He groaned in response, his thrusts becoming more erratic, his hips slamming against yours with an almost brutal force. The sound of your bodies colliding filled the room, drowning out any other noise.

Bucky's gaze bore into yours as you turned to look at him, his eyes filled with a mixture of lust and adoration. His grip on your hips tightened even further, his fingers leaving imprints on your skin as he pistoned in and out of you. The sensations he stoked within you built to an unbearable peak, threatening to consume you both.

With one final powerful thrust, Bucky sent you hurtling over the edge, your orgasm crashing through you like a tidal wave. You cried out his name, your body convulsing as waves of bliss coursed through every fiber of your being. It was an explosion that left you breathless and trembling, your senses overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment.

Bucky followed suit, ropes of his spend spilling into you as he found his own release. He bent his body over yours, burying his face in the curve of your neck, his moans muffled against your skin as he rode out the aftershocks of his orgasm.

For a few moments, the only sound in the room was heavy breathing and the faint echo of your heartbeats pounding in your ears. Your bodies were entangled, sweaty and spent from the intense release that had just washed over you. Bucky's grip on your hips slowly loosened as he pulled out of you, his length slipping free with a wet sound.

With a shaky sigh, you turned around and immediately collapsed back onto the desk, your legs trembling from the sheer euphoria that had consumed you moments ago. Bucky stood there, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. His eyes were filled with a mix of satisfaction and tenderness as he looked down at you.

He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before moving to stand in front of you. His fingers gently brushed against your cheek, wiping away a stray tear that had escaped during your climax. You reached up, intertwining your fingers with his and bringing them to your lips for a gentle kiss.

"Are you okay?" he asked, concern lacing his voice. "I didn't hurt you, did I? I went a little harder than I meant to."

You shook your head, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "No, Bucky. That was... incredible. You didn't hurt me, you made me feel amazing." You paused, looking up into his eyes, filled with genuine affection. "You always make me feel amazing."

His gaze softened, and he brushed his thumb against your cheekbone. You moved to hop down from your desk, but your knees gave out, refusing to hold you.

"Hey, I've got you," Bucky said with a laugh as he steadied you, supporting you as though you weighed nothing. He began slowly buttoning your shirt back up, then slid your skirt back up your thighs.

"I think you ruined my legs," you giggled as he planted a kiss on your navel before tucking your shirt back into your skirt.

"Sorry 'bout that," he said with a smirk as he straightened up.

You let out a shaky laugh. "Yeah, I'm sure you feel really bad about it," you grinned.

He leaned in close to your ear. "Not even a little bit," he whispered, as though it was a conspiratorial secret. God, just his proximity and the sound of his voice sent a shiver down your spine.

"Looking to go for Round Two already, doll?" he asked you as he took in your physical response to him with a smug smile.

"I don't think my desk can take another go at the moment, or my legs, for that matter." You tried standing up again and were pleased to find that, though your knees were still weak, you were able to hold yourself upright. You glanced over to see Bucky watching you with a shit-eating grin. "You look a little too proud of yourself, you know."

"Tell me it's not fully deserved." He grinned at you like a mother fucking cat who had just found a saucer of cream. You rolled your eyes as you began picking up the avalanche of papers that had fallen from your desk to the floor. Bucky came around and bent over to help set your office back to rights.

Once everything was back in its proper place, you stood back to admire your work. No one would know that you'd been thoroughly railed here just a few minutes before. You watched as Bucky picked up the framed photo you kept of the two of you on your desk.

It was from your trip to the New York Botanical Gardens last winter. Bucky had confessed to you that, due to spending so much time on ice while under Hydra's control, he'd developed an intense hatred-- almost fear-- of cold weather. So, when a particularly brutal cold snap had him feeling exceptionally out of sorts, you'd taken him up to the Bronx to visit the Enid A. Haupt Conservatory, where you spent the day meandering through the paths of the hothouse, surrounded by humidity and tropical plants as though you were in the middle of the rainforest. In the photo, Bucky stood next to you with his arms wrapped around your shoulders, your hands hanging off of his forearm as he leaned into you and kissed your temple. Your face was scrunched up into a ridiculous smile.

"That was a great day," Bucky said, tracing the photo with a flesh finger. "I don't think I ever told you how much it meant to me, means to me, that you did that for me." His voice had dropped to something deeper, softer.

You felt something in your heart flutter at his words, the sensation new and a little frightening. The sensation made you nervous in a way you couldn't identify. "Buck," you said, swallowing thickly, "there's not much I wouldn't do for you. I hope you know that."

His crystal blue eyes bore into you as he looked at you, almost as though he was waiting for you to say something more. When you didn't, he let out a sigh and placed the photo back on your desk.

Looking back up at you, the intensity was gone from his gaze. "You hungry? I figure we must have burned enough calories to justify a big lunch." His cocky grin was back in place.

"Yeah, that sounds perfect," you said, linking your arm in his and patently ignoring the way the contact sent a swell of affection through your heart. "Let me pop into the bathroom to clean up, and then we're good to go."

*

"You're both so codependent," Nat said to the two of you one evening a few months later as you all sat gathered around in the common room after dinner. It was a rare occurrence where no one was away on a mission and everyone was Earth-side. The space was crowded, so naturally Bucky had offered you his lap, theoretically in order to open up some seating for everyone else. Aside from the two of you and Nat, there was Wanda and Vision, Steve and Sam, Clint, Thor, Tony and Pepper, Bruce, and Rhodey. Your perfectly imperfect found family. The only one who was missing was young Peter Parker, but it was a school night and Tony tried to make sure the kid had his priorities in order.

"No we're not," you and Bucky said in unison, which made everyone else either laugh or groan. You glanced up at him with a smile and then back to the others. "What can we say? We just really enjoy the benefits of our friendship."

Bucky let out a cough into his hand that sounded a lot like "Be cool, damn."

"How come you never volunteer to sit in my lap?" Steve asked with an exaggerated pout.

"Do you want me to get up, Star-Spangled Man?" you ribbed as you feigned moving out of Bucky's lap. "You can have him all to yourself." Bucky squeezed your waist in warning, holding you down against him. You knew that if you got up now, you'd be exposing everyone to the erection that had been rubbing against your backside all evening. Fortunately, Steve wasn't one to take such a joke very far.

"No, it's fine. I can tell when I've been replaced," he teased, though his smile didn't necessarily reach his eyes. You and Bucky weren't necessarily hiding the fact that you'd started having sex from everyone, but you sure as shit weren't shouting it from the rooftops. There would be far too many 'I told you so's or 'about damn time's for your liking, not to mention everyone asking 'what's the next step?,' so it was something you kept to yourselves. Besides, you both decided that the secret aspect of sneaking around made it so much fucking hotter.

"Good, you're all here," said Tony, breaking through the levity with a serious tone, "since we're all together for once, there's something we need to discuss."

All eyes turned to him. Usually, a serious Tony meant a global-threatening event, but things on the world-saving front had been fairly quiet recently, so you were all curious to see what he had to say.

"As you're no doubt well aware, because most of you aren't complete morons, there are more and more enhanced individuals coming out of the woodwork, and not all of them are identifying as friendlies. I know we've already got a great team here, but Fury thinks we could be better."

"Pretty strong opinion for a man who just sits around watching and talking," Clint offered from his position on the couch next to Nat where he was re-stringing one of his bows.

"Don't disagree, Barton," Tony continued, "but Fury's good graces and government approval are the reason we keep getting to do what we do. He wants us to expand."

"What, open up a West Coast Avengers second location?" Bruce asked with a laugh.

"He wants us to consider taking on some more members," Tony said. "Expand our capabilities. I was able to negotiate it down to one."

"Do we have a say in the matter, or has he already made the choice for us?" Natasha asked warily. Like you, the Avengers were the only real family she'd ever known, and like you, she was highly uncomfortable with the idea of allowing just anyone to join it.

"He's made some... suggestions," Tony said, holding up a stack of thick folders, "but the final decision is ours to make."

"Well, I say we stick with known quantities," Sam offered. "Like Tic-Tac. He proved himself in Berlin."

"Nah, Scott Lang's not a viable option," you interjected thoughtfully. "Maybe as a reserve or something, but not a full-blown member." At Sam's questioning look, you elaborated. "His daughter's young, and he doesn't have custody. He's not going to move across the country and leave her in San Francisco. Not for us, especially after being apart from her while he was in prison."

"Same's going to go for T'Challa," Nat agreed. "His priority is always going to be Wakanda, he won't give that up, nor should we expect him to."

"We could always invite my brother Loki to join us," said Thor with a grin. "He's quite skilled," he paused for a moment to think his statement through. "Though he is completely untrustworthy and could very well try to murder us all, so perhaps not. But what a humorous situation that would have made!" The eye rolls from around the room proved that, no, it would not have made a humorous situation at all.

"I wish Pietro were still here; he would be magnificent. A perfect addition," Wanda said wistfully, and you reached over to squeeze her hand. She'd done so much healing since her brother had died in the crossfire of the battle with Ultron, but you couldn't imagine the lingering pain losing a twin must keep her in. She gave you a grateful look as she returned your squeeze.

"Well, who else do we know that we'd actually trust enough to ask?" Rhodey posited. The ensuing silence spoke volumes.

"Natty, what about your sister?" you suggested. "You think Yelena would be interested? It wouldn't suck to have another trained Widow on the team. Plus, she makes me laugh, which, you know, absolutely crucial Avenger requirement."

Nat looked thoughtful. "I don't know if it would be her thing, but I could reach out; wouldn't hurt to ask. But I wouldn't get our hopes up; she's pretty dedicated to helping all the former Widows right now."

"Swell," said Tony with an eye roll, making a note on a piece of paper inside his folder. "That's one, maybe. But probably not."

"Well, what options did Fury send over?" Rhodey asked him.

Tony began handing out folders to everyone. Each page contained a brief bio of an enhanced individual Fury had vetted and thought might make a good addition to the team. He handed you a folder, then made to hand another to Bucky.

"I'll share with Pocket," he said.

"Of course you will," Tony said with a shake of his head. "You sharing your balls with her, too, Barnes?" You stuck your tongue out at him. "Nice, Pocket. The pinnacle of maturity," Tony muttered as he moved on toward Bruce.

"Not just your balls," you whispered into Bucky's ear, giving his cock a discreet squeeze. He did his best not to moan out loud at your touch.

"You are going to pay for that," he whispered, causing you to laugh.

"Why don't we take a look at these profiles?" Steve interjected with a cough, waving a folder in the air. Everyone began leafing through their packets. The room was silent, save for the shuffling of paper.

"Wait, here's someone we should definitely consider," Bucky said after a long moment, freezing everyone's attention. He held up a sheet of paper with a picture stapled to it.

You leaned over to get a better look and immediately felt an odd sensation deep inside as your eyes focused on the woman in question: Jade Carthage, code-named 'Vixen'. She had long black hair cascading down her back and vibrant emerald green eyes that, in your opinion, looked cold and calculating. She was absolutely stunning.

"Let's see..." you began reading out loud, "she's the only survivor of a secret Hydra super soldier facility. Looks like they gave her a relatively successful version of the serum, but she single-handedly destroyed their base before it could be replicated and defected to S.H.I.E.L.D. Damn; that's really impressive. Enhanced strength, regenerative capabilities, trained in various forms of martial arts..." While reading about her powers and skills, you couldn't help but feel a slight twinge of jealousy over your own lack of superhero abilities. It was a gentle though bitter reminder that, though you may be able to play in the Avengers' world, you'd never really be one of them.

"She seems..." Bucky said, almost reverently, letting the rest of his thought hang in the air. "We should definitely meet her." You weren't sure why, but the tone of his voice left your stomach feeling sour.

"Well, she certainly seems interesting," Tony said, perusing the profile, "but I'm not sure she'd be a good fit for the team; I'm not seeing anything unique she can bring us that we don't already have on tap, and I'd want to know why she was the base's sole survivor. What happened to the rest of the subjects? We'll have to look into her more closely before we consider inviting her."

"I think it would be a mistake not to at least meet her," Bucky said, his gaze still locked on Jade's picture. "You can't just walk out of a Hydra base, especially when they value you as an asset. She's got to be good at what she does."

The others seemed to agree with Bucky's assessment after reviewing Jade's sheet. The general consensus seemed to be in favor of inviting Jade in for a more in-depth interview and meet and greet before making further decisions. You weren't sure how you felt about it, but you kept your discomfort to yourself. After all, she could definitely be an asset to the team if they chose to make her an offer, and if she chose to accept, of course. Those were two big ifs that might amount to nothing.And really, when it came down to it, your opinion didn't matter. You weren't actually an Avenger. You were just... Avenger-adjacent. Shaking your head, you attempted to disperse the negative thought. It was a term you'd used to refer to yourself when you were feeling less than your friends, when you were being hard on yourself. You hadn't used it in a while, and you weren't about to let yourself spiral down the familiar path of self-loathing... at least, not just yet.

*

That night, you felt distracted. Though you couldn't help it, you found you kept comparing yourself to Jade Carthage, not able to get over the way Bucky had so intensely examined her photo and bio. You refused to examine why the thoughts bothered you so much; this wasn't a relationship, and he was free to find other women attractive, and though you tried to ignore the slick, slippery feeling they elicited in your gut, you knew you were wallowing.

But you couldn't help but think he was comparing you to her, too, and also finding you lacking.

For as practically as long as you could remember, your self esteem had been entwined with how sexually appealing men had found you. It was never a relationship you nurtured for yourself, but your mother's boyfriend had instilled in you that the happier you made his clients, the better he would treat you, and it fucked up your sense of self-worth. Under ideal conditions, you were able to put all your years of therapy to work and look past the trauma of your youth, but at times like this, when you were feeling less than, you sought out the approval that your sexuality brought you.

And right now, you were desperate for that approval from Bucky.

After you came out of the bathroom in your pajamas, you were disheartened to see him sitting on the edge of his bed, going over Jade's paperwork yet again. You sighed, but he didn't look up at you. Fine, if he was going to be like that, you'd just have to take matters into your own hands, literally, and make him remember who he shared a bed with at night.

Coming to stand before him, you reached down and took the paper from his hands, tossing it behind you.

"Hey," said Bucky, mild annoyance in his voice, "I was reading that."

Before he could even think about going after the discarded paper, though, you got down on your knees before him.

Tracing your fingers along his thighs, you eagerly reached for his belt, fumbling with the buckle in your haste. The zipper of his pants gave way easily as you pulled it down, revealing his cock beneath his boxer briefs. You wasted no time and hungrily grasped him in your hand, stroking him firmly and teasingly until he was throbbing and fully aroused.

"Pocket," he said, his protest laced with desire as he looked down at you with hooded eyes, "what are you--"

With a wicked smirk, you silenced him with a fierce look. Your tongue darted out to swirl around the tip of his throbbing cock, making him groan as he grabbed onto your hair. You took him into your mouth eagerly, savoring the taste and feel of him against your tongue. With each movement, you swallowed him deeper and deeper until your nose brushed against his lower stomach, sending shivers down his spine. Your hands worked his base expertly, teasing and toying with him as he begged for more.

"Fucking hell, Pocket," Bucky moaned as he thrust his hips towards you, "what's gotten into you tonight?"

You hummed against him, adding in subtle twists and sucks that made him tremble. He pulled at your hair harder, urging you to take him fully once again. With practiced ease, you hollowed out your cheeks and bobbed faster and harder against him, taking him all the way in until you could feel his twitching release just moments away. Both of you knew it wouldn't be long now before he exploded in ecstasy.

"I'm gonna come, Pocket," he moaned, trying to back himself out of your mouth, but you refused to let go, renewing your grip on his thighs, becoming almost aggressive. Your eyes locked onto his, silently begging for him to give in and let go. With one final grunt, Bucky exploded, spurting hot streams of his essence into your mouth. You eagerly gulped it all down, determined to take everything he had to give you. And when you finally released him from your mouth, the sound of a satisfying 'pop' echoed through the room.

"I just want you to remember that," you purred, slowly standing up and sauntering back to your side of the bed. You could feel the intense desire radiating from his gaze as you wiped the remnants of his spend from your lips and licked your fingers clean, and he had a look in his eyes that promised this moment would be seared into his memory forever.

You nestled into the warmth of the sheets, your head resting on his chest. His arms enveloped you, and in a hushed voice he expressed his gratitude. In that moment, you were grateful to have him by your side, knowing that for tonight, at least, he was yours and not consumed by thoughts of another.

Chapter 5: Unprofessional

Chapter Text

You examined your reflection in the mirrored wall of the public elevator as you made your way down to the lobby of Avengers' Tower. You looked every bit the part of the entry-level Stark Industries employee you'd be playing today, from the sensible but inexpensive kitten pumps to the pencil skirt and suit jacket you'd purchased from Target specifically for this assignment. You ran a hand across your bun and adjusted your glasses, making sure you had just the right look of frazzled stress before tucking on the special badge that had been made for you that afternoon: "(Y/N), HOSPITALITY INTERN." You looked like someone of absolutely no consequence, much less the CTO of Stark Industries.

It was a bit of a game Tony liked to play with potential new hires, particularly those he hadn't hand-selected himself, and there was no one else he trusted to get the measure of this new recruit more than you. Except perhaps for Pepper, but she was far too recognizable a face to accomplish what Tony wanted. Fortunately, your aversion to the spotlight made you the ideal candidate.

"You can always get the real measure of a person," he'd told you once when you'd first met, "by how they treat the people they don't think they need to impress in order to get ahead."

With a ding, the elevator reached the ground floor and you exited into the lobby, your heels clicking across the marble floor as you approached Reception. Up head, you could spot Jade Carthage, dressed in a striking, albeit unnecessarily skin-tight, teal pleather bodysuit. She appeared to be animatedly video chatting with someone on her phone as you approached.

"... of course, it's an absolute honor to be invited to Avengers' Tower to meet with the Avengers," she was saying to whomever she was chatting with, "but let's remember, I've been working solo for years now, so let's not think of it as "Is Vixen good enough to join the Avengers?" but instead as "Are the Avengers good enough for Vixen to consider taking on as her backup team?"

You tried hard to stop yourself from rolling your eyes at her outlandish take on the situation, you really did, but the expression escaped you, none-the-less. There was something in her tone that rang false-- too peppy, too disingenuous. You took the opportunity to study her unobserved as you walked closer, and soon, two things became apparent:

First, she was even lovelier looking in person than her picture had indicated. Her hair shined in the florescent lights of the lobby and her skin almost seemed to glow. Even just sitting in one of the oversized armchairs that littered the reception area, she looked like she was posing for a magazine cover. She made you think of a venomous snake, luring its prey in with the beauty of its glittering scales, only to attack with its venomous mouth once you were too close to escape.

Second, she wasn't just video-chatting with someone. She was live streaming from the lobby. You personally had nothing against people who did that sort of thing, though you couldn't imagine anything remotely interesting enough in your own life you'd feel the need to share with strangers live (and you lived- and slept with- Avengers); however, Tony would have your head if you allowed that to continue on the upper floors. It would be a massive security breach.

You cleared your throat as you stood before her, hoping to catch her attention. She narrowed her eyes and, not even bothering to look away from her screen asked:

"What? You're interrupting my feed."

"Ms. Carthage?" you asked, extending your hand to her. "I'm (Y/N). Mr. Stark has requested that I assist you during your visit today, escort you around our Tower, and answer any questions you might have prior to your meeting with him and Captain Rogers later this afternoon."

She finally turned to face you, giving you a full once over before turning back to her phone. "I don't know about all of you," she said to her followers, "but I thought getting an invitation to Avengers Tower would warrant a greeting from, you know, an actual Avenger, not some intern with terrible fashion sense." She laughed, the sound tinny and false, and threw her hair over her shoulder.

You held your face expressionless as you lowered your arm; clearly she deemed you too beneath her to shake your hand. "Ms. Carthage, I would like to keep us on schedule and begin our tour," you said, indicating the private elevator that sat in the back corner of the lobby, "but I'm afraid I must ask you to turn off your phone; there is no live streaming allowed by non-residents on the private floors of the Tower."

Jade stood up and laughed into her camera as she made her way toward the elevator. "'No live streaming,'" she mocked into the screen. "What is this? 1999?" You followed behind her to the elevator bay as she kept chattering into her phone and watched as she tried to push the elevator's call button.

"The private floors require an authorized retinal scan for access, Ms. Carthage," you told her, even-toned, "and I cannot provide that until you've ended your live stream and have turned off your phone. It's one of Mr. Stark's security precautions; I'm sure you understand." You smiled your sweetest smile.

Jade rolled her eyes. "Sorry, Fox Cubs! The elevator police says I have to cut this live stream short or she won't show me where the cute Avengers sleep." She gave the camera an exaggerated wink. "I'll make sure to post a recap video when I'm done with my interview, in the meantime, don't forget to smash that like button and subscribe! This is Vixen, signing off!" She blew a kiss into the screen and ended the live feed.

As soon as her phone was off, she turned back to you, all traces of her previous good humor gone. "There, are you fucking happy now?" she huffed. "I promised my followers unfiltered access to the Avengers, and you went and ruined it."

Without a word, you clicked open your pen and scribbled some notes onto the clipboard you'd been holding to your chest. You wanted to make sure Jade knew her interview had already begun the moment you had approached her, but it didn't seem to have the desired effect.

"Um, hello? I'm talking to you," she said, reaching out to grab your pen. "I don't think Mr. Stark would take too kindly to seeing how his interns treat potential Avengers, do you?" She raised an eyebrow, as though you should be frightened of any imaginary sway she may have over Tony. Please.

"Why don't we head upstairs and begin your tour, then?" You scanned your retina, calling for the elevator and taking secret joy in knowing the various security cameras were picking up every word she spoke to you, from every angle.

The ride to the Avengers' floors was filled with an awkward silence as you and Jade kept to your individual sides of the enclosed space. At least the view through the elevator's glass walls as you ascended above the city was spectacular.

When you got off on the first of the floors dedicated to the Avengers' Initiative, you began the tour Tony had asked you to give, showing Jade the various inner workings of the entire Avengers enterprise and explaining the various functions that went into ensuring the elite group of heroes were able to do whatever they needed to do to save the world.

You took her through the training facility, the med-bay, Quinjet hanger, labs, communications center, armory, and offices, trying to impart on her that the Avengers relied on the collaboration of a large network of individuals in supporting roles, and not just the big-name heroes she knew from the media.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," she said, waving her hand dismissively as you finished explaining the invaluable contribution of the on-site catering staff, who were responsible for keeping track of the dietary preferences and nutritional and caloric needs for each Avenger to ensure they remained in top fighting shape, as well as maintain a ready knowledge bank of cuisines from around the world, and more increasingly, around the galaxy, to ensure that visiting dignitaries and guests were made to feel welcome and included. "Can we get to the part of the tour where you give me the tea on the hot ones?"

"I'm sorry, the tea on what now?" you asked, your carefully preserved mask almost slipping in shock that she'd bring something like that up in what was, first and foremost, a job interview.

"You know, the hot ones." She began ticking off names on her fingers. "Captain America. Thor. The Falcon. That fucking delicious Winter Soldier." She licked her lips and you were suddenly concerned you might actually Hulk-out on her. "Like, Where do they sleep? Are they fucking anyone? Which one has the biggest cock? That kinda thing." She looked at you hopefully, a new light in her eyes.

You took a breath, counted to three. Then ten. "I'm afraid I cannot speak to the private lives of the Avengers, Ms. Carthage. And that includes divulging the location of their individual quarters or any other personal… attributes." You tried to shift the conversation to the Innovation and Technology Department, instead, explaining some of the new gadgets your team had in the pipeline, but Jade was relentless, and you couldn't help but wonder if she was deliberately trying to provoke you in revenge for ending her live stream.

"Oh, come on. Don't tell me you've never fantasized about what it's like to share a bed with someone like Bucky Barnes." She paused to fan herself dramatically with a hand. "I bet that super soldier stamina can have a girl coming for hours. What do you think his 'O' face looks like?"

You felt a flush of anger rise up the back of your neck and swallowed hard. You would love nothing more than to let her know you had no need to fantasize; you knew, intimately. But, you were a professional, there to do your job, and this girl was the most unprofessional individual you'd ever encountered. And you'd worked with Scott Lang. At least he was fun to be around.

"Ms. Carthage, as I have previously stated, I cannot and will not discuss the personal lives of the Avengers."

Jade gave you a pitying smile. "Of course, I'm sorry; this is probably the closest you've ever come to any of them, huh? Giving tours? I bet you've never even met one of them. I shouldn't rub it in. How about I find out about Barnes and let you know all the dirty, dirty details?" She winked at you, her face all smiles.

It took every ounce of your self restraint to not claw her eyes out then and there. You were not jealously insecure like this (okay, you were insecure, but you weren't jealously insecure), and Jade Carthage was fraying your last threads of sanity.

You took a deep breath, hoping to keep your temper in check. "Ms. Carthage," you said evenly, "Mr. Stark is a busy man. That means that every minute of my time is valuable, and every comment of yours that is inappropriately off-topic is a waste of that time." You locked eyes with her, trying to convey the message that you weren't going to tolerate any more of her bullshit.

For a brief moment, Jade seemed taken aback, as if no one had ever dared talk back to her before. But then she quickly regained her composure, flashing you a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Apologies. I was just trying to lighten the mood a bit."

You were saved from having to respond by an alarm going off on your smart watch. "Oh thank fuck," you muttered under your breath.

"Excuse me?" Jade asked, seemingly affronted by your language as if she hadn't just been talking about fucking Bucky. "I can't believe your boss let's you talk to potential Avengers --"

"It's time for your meeting with Mr. Stark and Captain Rogers, Ms. Carthage," you interrupted, turning and heading back to the elevator. You were so done with this girl; you couldn't wait to deposit her on Tony's doorstep and hopefully never see her again.

The ride to the penthouse was even more tense than the initial ride up. As you ascended, you pulled out your phone and started drafting a text to Bucky. You felt the sudden, desperate need to connect with him.

>> What are you up to, handsome?

Magic Dick🍆🦾: Sittin' round this pretty girl's room, waitin' for her to get off of work. Hopin' when she comes back, she'll get me off, too...

>> These jokes really get you pussy, Barnes?

Magic Dick🍆🦾: What can I say? I've had a pretty good success rate so far.

>> Oh yeah? What's your sample size?

Magic Dick🍆🦾: Why? Jealous?

Oof. That hit a little too close to home. You bit your lip, considering how to respond.

Magic Dick🍆🦾: Doll?

Magic Dick🍆🦾: I'm just teasin.

Magic Dick🍆🦾: You know my sample size is one.

You took a breath, relief coursing through you. You knew there was no one else in Bucky's life-- he was with you all day, you shared a bed every night; when would he find the time?-- but the confirmation was something you needed right now.

>> Normally, I'd say that's a terrible way to test a scientific hypothesis, Buckaroo, but in this case, I applaud your methods.

Magic Dick🍆🦾: Well get back here so we can run our own biology experiment.

The elevator arrived at the penthouse and you motioned for Jade to step out in front of you. As you started leading her down toward Tony's office, you shot one last text back to Bucky.

>> As soon as I drop this package off to Tony, I'm all yours.

Magic Dick🍆🦾: Mm, gonna hold you to that, doll.

God, you could just imagine the way he would run his tongue over his bottom lip as he spoke that last sentence and it sent a thrill down your spine.

"Are you done texting your boyfriend, or what?" Jade, hands folded across her chest and tapping her right foot impatiently, interrupted your thoughts.

"I'm sorry, what?" you asked her, thrown off your game for the first time during the entire tour.

"Oh my god, can't you even complete your fucking job before you start making plans for your off time? It's completely unprofessional. I've got half a mind to make a complaint to Stark about you."

You'd had enough. Slipping your phone back into the pocket of your suit jacket, you turned your face up to Jade's. You smiled at her, showing her all your teeth. "By all means," you said, your voice like black honey, "please do." Her eyes widened in surprise at your words, but you turned on your heel and walked straight to Tony's office. Without even bothering to knock, you opened the heavy mahogany doors and ushered Jade to proceed you inside.

Tony and Steve were sitting at a small conference table at the far end of the room. You watched Jade's mouth fall open as she took in the opulent space. Tony was... ostentatious in his everyday life, but his business office took it to an entirely new level. People always expected an exaggeration of riches when they met Tony Stark, and when he took official meetings here, he made sure they got what they came for. It was all for show, though-- the real work happened in Pepper's office down the hall, which was far more austere, much like the woman herself.

"Mr. Stark, Captain Rogers," you said, walking toward them, "Allow me to present Ms. Jade Carthage." Tony caught your eye, giving you a questioning look with a raise of his brow, surmising that, due to your formal tone, the pre-interview hadn't gone very well. You gave him a discreet shake of your head as Steve stood up to shake Jade's hand and motioned for her to sit across the table from where he and Tony had positioned themselves.

You turned to leave, but Tony called back out to you. "Pocket?" You turned to him.

"Yeah, Boss?" Jade eyed you, taking note of Tony's use of a nickname and your casual tone with him.

"I'd really like to get my Chief Technical Officer's assessment of Ms. Carthage's tour, if you don't mind." You smiled. Oh, Tony. You made your way around the conference table and stood on Tony's other side, leaning an elbow on his shoulder. Jade stared at you, eyes wide with confusion.

"Ms. Carthage, you'll have to forgive my little subterfuge," Tony said casually, his boyish charm out in full force. "I'd like to officially introduce you to (Y/N) (Y/L/N), CTO of Stark Industries and Director of Innovation and Technology for the Avengers' Initiative." Smiling, you watched with immature delight as all the color drained from Jade's face and her mouth hung open.

Tony turned to face you. "Now, Pocket, care to give us a rundown of how Ms. Carthage's tour went this afternoon?"

You pursed your lips, as though considering. "Ms. Carthage had some rather... interesting lines of query concerning members of the team and their particular... abilities." You noticed with satisfaction as Jade's hands begin to shake. "Unfortunately, I can't stay to give you the details at this time, as I'm overdue to meet with Sergeant Barnes downstairs," you locked eyes with Jade, returning the wink she'd given to you earlier, "however, I'm more than happy to have FRIDAY pull up the relevant timestamps from the security feeds to share with you, so you can see it for yourself." You smiled sweetly as you moved back around the conference table.

Before you left, you turned and leaned in close to whisper to Jade. "Oh, and Ms. Carthage, regarding our prior conversation concerning Mr. Barnes: there's no need to "find out" for me; I'm already, personally, well aware." You gently patted her on the shoulder. "Cap, Boss," you nodded at the two men, "Have fun, boys; I'll see you later."

*

You made it back down to your suite in record time after asking FRIDAY to send the relevant security footage to Tony and Steve and were delighted to find Bucky sitting in one of your armchairs, an open copy of The Times in his hands.

"Hey there, soldier," you said as you kicked off your heels. You raised your skirt as you approached him, giving your legs the freedom they needed to straddle his lap as you sat down on top of him.

He didn't look up from his paper, but a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "Well, hello there, Pocket." His metal hand came up to rest on your knee, fingers tracing circles on your skin. The touch sending waves of electricity through your body.

"Is that a pistol in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?" you asked with a smirk.

Bucky snorted, finally looking up from his paper, one eyebrow raised. "Mouth like that, did they let you into this fancy building, or did you just sneak in through the vents?"

You smiled, tracing the lines of his face with your fingers. "Maybe I just crawled up through the sewer line," you teased, putting a kiss to his jawline.

"That's my dirty girl," he grinned. You looked at him. You knew he was only teasing you, but he'd called you his girl.

And damn if that wasn't doing something to your insides.

"You okay, doll?" he asked, looking at you with concern.

You nodded, trying to push away the seemingly overwhelming emotions that were stirring within you. "Um, yeah, I'm fine. Just got lost in thought for a minute; Jade Carthage is upstairs meeting with Steve and Tony right now. They'll be coming down to the common room to introduce her to everyone once they're finished."

"Oh yeah, that's right. Jade's interview was today." Bucky's tone was completely unconvincing, leaving you no doubt he knew exactly when Jade was scheduled to be in the Tower. "It completely slipped my mind."

"Oh, we lying to each other now?" you asked, trying to keep your voice light and your insecurity at bay. It was totally fine for him to express interest in getting to know a potential new member of the team, you reminded yourself. Totally fine and not a complete rejection of you at all. Nothing you needed to worry about. Okay, who was the liar now?

"Absolutely not," his voice was now deep with sincerity. "Never." You smiled and leaned in to kiss him, but he leaned back and asked:

"So, how did the tour go? What was she like?" You debated whether or not to tell him what she'd said about him, but decided against it. You found you didn't want him feeling flattered by her disgusting line of questioning, and the fact that you were censoring what you said to him made you feel gross.

"Can't say I was a fan," you told him, instead. At least that was the truth. Just not all of it. "I found her to be incredibly unprofessional and, honestly? Kind of a bitch."

"Hey," Bucky gently chastised, "give the kid a break. She was probably freaking out. It's hard being the new kid in the Tower, you know?" You shrugged; you didn't know, not really. You'd been with Tony from the beginning. Bucky went on: "Remember how much of an ass I was when I first met you?" he asked, then impersonating himself, said: "'What the hell kind of name is Pocket?'" You nodded, a smile tugging your lips at the memory. "But you looked past my obnoxious nerves and I wormed my way into your heart and now you're my best friend and you're stuck with me forever." You nodded, laughing at the memory.

"Yeah, but I want to be stuck with you forever, not her," you told him without thinking as your fingers played with the hairs at the nape of his neck.

"Why, Pocket (Y/L/N)," Bucky drawled, firming his grip on your waist, "I do believe that's the sweetest thing you've ever said to me."

You felt the heat rise to your cheeks at his words. "Maybe you should get your hearing checked then, old man, because I'm pretty sure I say sweet things to you all the time."

Bucky threw his head back and laughed. "Oh, I've heard you make some pretty, sweet sounds, and you sure taste sweet, but that mouth of yours? That's always been filthy."

You huffed in mock outrage and turned your face from his. "Well, if that's how you feel about it, then, I'll make sure to keep my filthy mouth away from you from now on."

"Don't you dare." Bucky took your chin in his fingers and turned your head back to face him. "It's my favorite thing about you. Now come here." Firmly but gently, he pulled your face to his until he could slot his lips over yours.

You melted into his kiss. Finally. It had been what you'd been craving since you texted him in the elevator-- the sensation of being overtaken, of being consumed by him as his tongue sought entry into your mouth, his hands roving across the curves of your body until one found purchase under your ass and the other made its way up your shirt to caress the bare skin of your side.

The kiss deepened, heated, as you pulled him to you, until there was no space between your bodies. You broke away for air, breathless.

"Was that sweet enough for you?" you asked with a sultry smile.

Bucky's grin mirrored your own, his eyes roaming over your face. "Mmm," he hummed, his fingers tracing along your jaw. "Almost," he said before pulling you back for another toe-curling kiss.

His hands slid up your back as he deepened the kiss even further. His lips moved against yours with an intoxicating rhythm, sending a hot rush of desire straight to your core. You found yourself moaning into his mouth, the sound drowned by the husky growl that emanated from his throat.

Time seemed to stretch out, each second filled with nothing but the feel of him beneath you and the euphoria of being claimed by his kiss. You were so lost in Bucky's expert attention that you had no idea how much time had passed-- it could have been minutes or hours lost in the sensation of his lips on yours.

"Ms. (Y/L/N)," FRIDAY's voice eventually filled your room, causing Bucky to halt his movements, "Mr. Stark is requesting you and Mr. Barnes in the common room for Ms. Carthage's team meet and greet in fifteen minutes."

You groaned, trying to pull Bucky closer so you could chase his lips in spite of the interruption, but he moved his head away.

"We should head up, then, huh?" Bucky licked his kiss-swollen lips and gently moved to tug you off of his lap.

"We could be a little late," you said, reluctantly standing up and straightening your skirt. "There's no rule that says we have to be perfectly punctual. Let me at least get you off before we go up, put my filthy mouth to use." You started to kneel in front of him, reaching for his belt, but Bucky stood up, stopping you.

"I don't want to be rude," he said, reaching up and freeing your hair from its bun, running his fingers across your scalp.

"Oh, God," you murmured as you leaned into his touch, "that feels fucking amazing." He brought his other hand up and began massaging your scalp with both hands, gently tugging at the roots of your hair. The sensation immediately relaxed you. Distracted you.

After a few moments, you felt his hands pull away. Cupping your face, he smiled at you. "Why don't I head up now, and you can get changed and meet me?"

You checked your watch; he really hadn't given you much of a choice at this point. "Oooor," you proposed, putting a hand on his chest and running it along the hard line of his pectoral, "we could stay here and get naked and sweaty. Just putting that idea out there."

Bucky chuckled in response to your proposition, tapping a finger against his chin as though seriously considering it. "As much as I'd love to take you up on that offer, we have social obligations we need to fulfill."

You felt something crack inside you at his statement and you leaned back to study him. "Since when do you give a shit about social obligations? You hate being around people." You didn't understand where the shift in his attitude was coming from, and the question came out sounding accusatory.

"And since when do you not?" he shot back, his eyes flicking down to your hand still resting on his chest. "You love all that team-bonding bullshit; thought you'd be all about this thing." You'd only been given a very brief overview of interrogation techniques as part of your field training, but you knew enough to recognize Bucky's answer for what it was-- distracting, deflecting and evading. So much for never lying. You took a step back, withdrawing your hand and putting distance between you both.

"Well, at least wait for me to change, and we can go up together," you offered, moving toward your closet.

"Better if we go up separately. Don't want people getting the wrong idea." The words hit you like a punch to the gut. Since when was walking into a room with you giving people the ‘wrong idea’? You practically walked into every room together every day.

"Wow, Barnes," you said, "I didn't realize you were suddenly embarrassed to be seen with me." You avoided looking at him as you mindlessly flipped through your closet, not even paying attention to the clothing you were looking at.

"Pocket," Bucky stepped toward you, closing the distance you'd put between the two of you, "you know I didn't mean it like that. I just..." He left his sentence unfinished, which was probably the worst thing he could have done-- now you'd be filling in every possible ending and driving yourself crazy with whatever it was he left unsaid.

"Right," you drawled slowly, eyes narrowed at Bucky. "Well then, better get going. Wouldn't want to keep Ms. Carthage waiting, would we? She might get the wrong idea." The pitch of your voice was laced with something cold and bitter, but you couldn't help it.

Bucky's gaze fell on you, his brows furrowed in a mix of frustration and concern. "Hey," he softly called out, reaching for your hand. You pulled away before he could touch you. It was a petty move, you knew that, but at the moment, you needed the physical distance to match the emotional one you could feel blooming between you both.

"I'll see you upstairs," you said curtly, avoiding his gaze and moving towards the bathroom. You could feel Bucky's eyes burning holes into your back as you walked away and shut the door, closing him out.

You waited until you heard the sound of him closing your bedroom door behind him before you finally left your bathroom and started changing. It hadn't been your most mature decision, but you'd needed to put physical space between you both. His words had thrown you, left you confused and hurt and, worst of all, insecure and unsure of where you stood with him.

When you'd finally managed to run away from Darren, you'd vowed that you would never let another man have control of your life, even if that meant locking your heart away and never letting yourself be vulnerable to your emotions. It was why relationships had always been an impossibility for you. But this thing with Bucky, this... whatever it was, had completely snuck up on you, taking you by surprise and leaving you open to all sorts of unpleasant feelings you didn't know how to navigate. He had wormed his way into your heart, and now you were at his mercy.

You stared at yourself in your vanity mirror as you styled your hair. If you didn't know any better, you'd think you were in--.

No.

Oh, no.

Please, God, no.

Your eyes were wide, panicked with the realization, but it didn't go away. The idea just kept firmly burying itself within your consciousness, as though elated to have finally broken free from your subconscious mind, where you were beginning to think it had lived for a very long, long time.

You were in love with Bucky.

You were in love with your best friend, and you were pretty sure you had been, for a while now.

This was, quite possibly, the worst thing that could happen.

Chapter 6: Unattached

Chapter Text

You stood in front of the doors to the common room, the low thrum of conversation and music filtering out from inside. Taking a deep breath, you tried for the umpteenth time to calm your nerves following your unsettling realization.

You had no idea how to approach this, how to approach Bucky. Do you tell him how you felt, in the hope that he felt the same way? But what if he didn't? Could you risk losing him all together? Or do you just keep on like nothing's changed, happy with what you have together? Would that be enough for you? Could you even be happy in a real relationship?

Why couldn't your mother have just been a decent human being and let you go to school like a normal child so you could have worked through all your awkward issues at the appropriate time, instead of saddling you with years of trauma and isolation that left you an emotionally stunted adult? God, you needed a strong drink and to talk to Nat, preferably in that order. Pushing open the common room door, you stepped inside, surveying the room with one eye out for Bucky, the other out for your friend.

It should have been of no surprise, then, that instead of either, you first spotted Jade Carthage. She was situated on a couch in the center of the room, like a queen on her throne before her court, and nearly every Avenger and agent with a penis was surrounding her, jockeying for her attention, even Clint who, you knew for a fact, loved his wife Laura more than life itself.

Your stomach dropped when, after one of the agents in front of the couch shifted slightly, you saw Bucky sitting immediately to Jade's left. And while it seemed like everyone else was clamoring for Jade to pay attention to them, she only had eyes for him. Jealousy coursed through you as she leaned in close, whispering something into his ear that had him throwing his head back in laughter. It was an entirely unpleasant sensation that you would be happy to never feel again. Especially because you knew you had no real right to feel it in the first place. You may have just realized you were in love with him, but he had made no similar declaration to you.

"Careful, you glare any harder, you're liable to bore a hole straight through him," Natasha said, coming up alongside of you.

"What if I aim for her, instead?" you asked, reaching for the tumbler of alcohol she offered you and taking a sip to distract yourself. It was like she could read your mind.

Nat shrugged. "So long as I'm not the one cleaning up the mess, I say have fun. But what happened to no-strings-attached, friends who happen to fuck?" Nat asked with a smirk. "Don't tell me you've grown strings, Pocket."

You looked away from the scene in front of you. "There might be some growing of string, in theory," you mumbled to her. Nat was the only person you had confided in regarding your arrangement with Bucky. Of course, your friend had been thrilled that there had been something going on between the two of you, but she'd been more concerned about protecting your heart-- was this the safest thing for you to do? You assured her at the time you'd be fine, but now...?

Nat's eyes widened as a grin took over her face. "Honey, that's fantastic!" She leaned in to give you a hug. "I'm so happy for you!" Taking in your forlorn expression, she quickly lost her good humor. "Why do you look like you're about to throw up?"

You cast another glance over at the couch. Jade was tracing her fingers along the golden veins of Bucky's vibranium arm and you felt like snakes were crawling through your stomach. "Because I don't know what the fuck to do about it, Natty," you told her with a sigh. "I've never felt like this before in my entire life and it's fucking terrifying; what if he doesn't feel the same way? Or worse, what if he does and I mess everything up because I'm so fucking damaged inside?"

Natasha looped her arm through yours, leaning into you. "Honey, first of all, you are not damaged. You've been through hell and it left its mark on you, that's true, but you've been so strong. We're House Martell, remember?"

You sniggered, remembering how, when the entire Tower was obsessed with watching Game of Thrones together and picking what houses you'd each belong to, you and Nat had been drawn to the words of the ruling house of Dorne. And also, Pedro Pascal, obviously.

"Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken," you recited from memory, a reminder that despite the obstacles life had thrown at you, you remained standing, stronger for what you had endured.

"Atta girl," Nat nudged you with her elbow. "And second of all, you don't need to worry about Bucky's feelings. Boy's obviously mad for you. Everyone can see it."

You drew your bottom lip in between your teeth. "I don't know, Nat. He's been acting strange lately. I tried to give him head earlier and he flat out rejected it." Come to think of it, that was exceptionally weird since, in your text exchange, he'd explicitly told you he'd been waiting in your room specifically for the purpose of getting off.

"Huh. That's... not like him." Nat tilted her head and looked over at Bucky, expression curious. "Did he say why?"

"He was real eager to come up here and get in the middle of that, apparently." You waved a hand in the general direction of the couch where Jade's little reverse-harem was still going strong. "I was getting on my knees and everything."

Nat raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything.

"And then he made a really big deal about us coming up here separately. Said he didn't want people getting 'the wrong idea' about us if we arrived together."

Letting go of your arm, Natasha spun to face you, her face a mask of anger. "He said what now?!" she practically shouted, temporarily drawing everyone's attention to you. You looked around sheepishly as you tried to dismiss their stares.

"Nat," you begged in a whisper, "keep it down."

"Okay, okay, sorry." Natasha lowered her voice to a level only you could hear. "I'm sorry, but that's just complete and utter bullshit. Look, I know you guys think you've been in super secret stealth mode about hiding it, but pretty much everyone on the team knows you've been sleeping together. Hell, most of us placed bets on it." You opened your mouth in order to protest but she cut you off.

"If anything, it's weirder if the two of you don't show up to something together, so I don't know what the hell he's thinking."

"I do," you said morosely. "He doesn't want her getting the wrong idea about us."

"Pocket, don't even let your mind go there," Nat said.

"Think about it, Nat; I've been standing here for what, fifteen minutes now? And he hasn't even looked at me. When's the last time that happened?"

Nat's brows creased, her expression clouding over into something immensely sad for you, and you knew she was realizing what you'd already seen. In the last year, you and Bucky had been attached at the hip, nearly physically joined to one another, and if you were apart, your eyes were always scanning the room in search of the other's presence, seeking them out. The fact that he hadn't even looked for you, let alone come to you since you walked in, was telling in its own heartbreaking way.

Nat let out a heavy sigh. "Oh Pocket. Honey, I'm so sorry."

You shook your head, trying to dispel the tears that were threatening to fall from your eyes if you kept down this path. "Don't Natty, please. I can't fall apart, not here."

"Yeah, okay-- you're right. Now is not the time. Come on." Linking her arm through yours once again, she directed you toward the bar where Tony was standing, whiskey in hand. "If anyone can talk you to distraction," she murmured as you approached him, "it's Stark."

You let out a startled laugh and let her guide you toward the man who had already saved you more times than you could count.

"Hey, kiddo; Romanoff." Tony saluted you with his glass and you did your best to smile back at him as you stuffed your emotions down as far as they would go. "What do you think of our new recruit?" he asked Nat.

"I think 'Weasel' would be a better fitting code name for her than 'Vixen,'" Nat replied with a sly smile as she took a sip of wine.

"Ah, saw the security feed, did you?" Tony asked her. Nat nodded.

"Watched it live as it happened. Wasn't going to leave my bestie without eyes on her six." She gave your arm an affectionate squeeze.

Tony hummed and glanced over to the couch. "Wish Cap had been as discerning as you. He refused to watch the feed; said it made him uncomfortable to spy on someone when they didn't know they were being recorded." Natasha rolled her eyes.

"Always the fucking Boy Scout," she murmured.

"So, how did the interview itself go?" you asked Tony, not really sure you wanted to know the answer, but feeling the need to punish yourself with the details, anyway.

Tony leaned back against the bar, resting his elbows on the polished wooden surface. "If it were up to me, we wouldn't even be playing this charade right now," he said, motioning with his chin to indicate the meet and greet. "Girl's a first-class bullshitter."

"Talent recognizing talent?" you asked with a wry smile that almost felt genuine.

He pointed a finger and winked at you. "Exactly. She talked a good talk, but it doesn't take much to see she's suffering from Big Fish, Small Pond Syndrome. She's in for a rude awakening if she thinks she's ready to swim in the ocean with the whales and the sharks."

"So, you're not going to offer her the probationary position?" you asked, hope rising pathetically in your chest. As if you could un-ring the bell.

"Oh, I didn't say that," Tony said as you deflated. "It's not all up to me. Though, given the fact that I personally fund this entire operation, you'd think it really should be, right?" At the look on your face he moved on. "Apologies, I digress. Anyway, Cap thinks it's only fair we offer it to her, seeing as how we don't have a ton of other options knocking on our door, and Fury's not going to get off my ass until we find someone." He sighed. "I think this entire exercise is a waste of time, and we should be kicking her out on her ass for how she treated you earlier, Pocket, but I'm outvoted."

"Thanks, Boss," you said softly, grateful at least that Tony could see through Jade's facade and took how she treated you seriously. Too bad your best friend couldn't offer you the same courtesy.

The timer on Tony's watch went off. "And that's the dinner bell," he said, putting down his glass. Clapping his hands, he called out to the rest of the room. "Attention Avengers, SHIELD Agents, and... whoever else managed to sneak in off the street! Dinner is served, so if we could all head to the dining room before the food gets cold and Raul quits on me, I'd appreciate it very much."

You held back as the crowd of people noisily moved to the dining room, hoping to catch Bucky's eye, but he remained steadfastly absorbed in his conversation with Jade.

"Come on, honey," Nat said as she took your elbow. "You can talk to him during dinner. You nodded and allowed her to lead you into the dining room. You and Bucky had sat next to one another, without fail, for every meal for the last year, the only exception being when one of you was away on a mission. You'd have plenty of opportunities to talk to him while you ate.

Normally, you all ate at one large table, but since this was a special occasion that required the attendance of a lot more than just the regular 13 members of your family (14, if Parker was around), Tony had the dining room arranged more like a restaurant, with a series of smaller tables spread out throughout the space.

You and Nat followed Bucky and Jade to a six-top where Steve and Sam were already getting ready to sit down, but you froze in your tracks when Bucky pulled back a chair for Jade, pushing it in behind her as she sat down before taking the seat next to her.

The air seemed to grow heavy, as though it weighed too much for you to draw it into your lungs and your chest began to hurt. How could such a simple action be causing you so much physical pain?

Steve, who had already been sitting at Bucky's other side at the head of the table, caught your eye and moved to get up to offer you his chair, instead, as though that could make up for Bucky's dismissal of you.

You subtly shook your head, not wanting to draw attention to the awkward situation you found yourself in. Instead, you made your way over to the only two remaining seats at the table: the one next to Sam that was directly across from Jade and Bucky or the one next to Jade at the opposite end of the table from Steve. Deciding it was better to be sitting across from Steve than either of the other two, you opted for the chair at the end, and Nat slid in next to Sam.

You cast a quick glance in Jade's direction and had to stifle a sick laugh-- she was physically coming between you and Bucky, quite literally.

Jade reached a hand out to Nat across the table. "Wow! Black Widow! It is so great to meet you! My name's Vixen; I'm a huge fan! I'm so excited for us to be working together!"

Bless Nat, she just stared at the girl with arms crossed across her chest, impassive and judging, until Jade slowly and awkwardly pulled her hand back.

"I take it, then, that you've deemed the Avengers good enough to be your backup team?" Nat asked without expression.

You did your best to cover the laughter that escaped from you with a fake cough, but you didn't try very hard to be convincing.

"What's this about, now?" Steve asked, leaning forward.

"Little Vixen over here," Nat began, leaning back in her chair until she was perched on the two rear legs, "was live-streaming this morning to her social media followers. Told them it wasn't so much that the Avengers were interviewing her to see if she'd be good for the team, but she was interviewing us to see if we'd be good back up for her."

Jade had the decency to look embarrassed for a moment before she turned to face you for the first time, anger taking over her features. "So, what? Didn't much take you for a tattler. You that intimidated by me?"

You opened your mouth to defend yourself but were interrupted by the sound of the legs of Nat's chair slamming back against the floor. "Pocket didn't tell me shit. I heard it straight from your mouth on the security feed. That and a lot of other interesting things."

"You're spying on her, Nat? Really?" Bucky spoke up. "She's our guest and she deserves a modicum of privacy, don't you think?" You stared at him, open mouthed, but he didn't spare you a glance.

"It was a part of her interview, Barnes," Nat spat. "Maybe if you---"

"Okay, Nat, Bucky," Steve said, using his official Captain America voice, "let's table this conversation for later and just enjoy our meal. Raul worked really hard on tonight's menu, so let's not spoil it for him, alright?"

Both Nat and Bucky grumbled their agreement as the catering staff brought out the first course and placed them on each of your plates. Normally, you loved when Raul, Tony's personal chef, cooked meals for the team; he always made sure to throw in something with lemon in it, knowing how much you loved the flavor; but tonight, your appetite was failing you and you ended up pushing more food around on your plate than you put in your mouth.

You couldn't help but steal glances over at Bucky, who continued to be wrapped in conversation with Jade. You tried to keep up with what the others were saying, occasionally nodding your head in agreement to something, but you weren't able to pay any real attention; your mind was elsewhere until you noticed Jade looking at you.

"You know, I have to say I'm surprised to see so many non-Avengers here. I got the impression that this group was... I dunno, elite? But it seems like you just let anyone in."

Steve laughed from the other end of the table. "Being an Avenger is a team effort, Vixen. Everyone plays their part. And besides, Pocket here's just as much an Avenger as I am." The comment took you by surprise, and you gave Steve a warm, appreciative smile.

"Thanks, Cap," you said, truly touched by his words.

"Well, she's more like Avenger-adjacent," Bucky amended, and all the warmth you'd felt at Steve's compliment vanished in an instant, leaving you feeling cold and hollow. The words shouldn't have stung-- it was how you had referred to yourself hundreds of times, but you tended to reserve it for your low moments, when you were feeling unequal to Earth's mightiest heroes. Hearing the words come out of Bucky's mouth, as if he, too, shared in your belief that you were inferior to the rest of them... well, that fucking hurt.

Steve let out a surprised laugh and clapped Bucky on the shoulder. "Pocket may not have enhanced physical abilities or powers or what have you, but she's got a brilliant mind. She's got a PhD in Mechanical Engineering and Computation from MIT, three Master's degrees, she speaks seven languages, she's got a black belt in Krav Maga, and she was the youngest Chief Technology Officer in Stark Industries history; all without ever having formally graduating high school. It's no exaggeration for me to say that I'd be dead a couple of dozen times over if I hadn't had her at my six. If anything, I think it makes her even more important than the rest of us. We're here because of the physical things we can do– primarily because of things that happened to us by accident; Pocket's essential to the team because of how she thinks, and the strength and quality of the work she’s willing to put in. We're replaceable, Pocket's one-of-a-kind."

You looked at Steve as if seeing him for the very first time. You had no idea he thought so highly of you, and his praise warmed you. You offered him a soft smile, your throat tightening with emotion and leaving you unable to express your gratitude. You mouthed a silent thank you instead, hoping that conveyed how much his words meant to you. He winked back at you in acknowledgement.

Bucky glanced back and forth between the two of you, as if analyzing your silent exchange. He coughed awkwardly. "I just meant that we try to keep Pocket away from the really dangerous stuff," he backpedaled, poorly, in your opinion. "Can't risk her getting hurt." He smiled at you, but you just stared back, expression blank, until he looked away in embarrassment. Good. Let him feel an ounce of the discomfort you’d been feeling this entire time.

Small talk resumed around the table, with Sam telling Steve about some new modification he was making to Redwing, and Bucky and Jade back to being locked in their own bubble. You did your best to ignore the little glances and gestures that Jade directed to Bucky, but it felt like your eyes were drawn to them like a magnet every time she touched him. Which seemed to be happening more and more frequently. You couldn't help but notice the way he leaned toward her when she spoke. Did he ever do that when he was talking with you?

"So, Bucky," Jade said eventually, her voice low and flirty as the caterers took away the main course, "handsome super hero like you, you seeing anyone?" Your eyes snapped up to Bucky's face, watching him. Surely he was going to look to you, make eye contact, something to acknowledge what was between you, to make you feel like you were in the same room, hell, on the same fucking planet as him. But he didn't.

"Nope," he said, running his hand over the back of his neck like he always did when he was feeling self conscious or nervous. "Not seeing anyone, though I'm not opposed to the idea." You had been stabbed in the abdomen on a mission once, and that had hurt less than hearing the words that had just come out of Bucky's mouth. It took everything in you to resist getting up from the table and leaving the room at that moment.

"Really, man?" Sam asked from where he sat on the other side of Natasha, his voice hard in disbelief. The atmosphere at your table had shifted. Natasha, Steve, and Sam all stared at Bucky with looks ranging from incredulity to flat out disgust. Bucky either was oblivious to the stares or was doing a great job patently ignoring them.

You couldn't even bring yourself to look at him anymore. It felt like a betrayal, the way his eyes had met Jade's and not yours. How could he sit there and just completely deny you like that? Had you been deluding yourself? Had you just been some kind of fuck toy this entire time?

The caterers brought the next course, a cold raspberry soup. You sat there, staring into space as you mechanically spooned the soup into your mouth, trying your hardest to appreciate the taste, but everything seemed bitter in light of Bucky's attitude, actions, and words.

"Could you hand me the water carafe?" Bucky asked. You looked up to watch Jade hand him the bottle of water. "Thanks, doll," he said, smiling at her.

You dropped your spoon, letting it fall into your nearly empty bowl with a reverberating clang. Your companions at the table stared, eyes wide as their gazes traveled between you and Bucky. In his entire time at the tower, he had never once called another woman 'doll.' It was a moniker he'd specifically reserved for you.

Or, it used to be.

You could tell the exact moment when Bucky realized he'd fucked up. His eyes locked on yours, the color draining from his face. He opened his mouth as if he was going to speak to you, but you'd had enough. Without a word, you pushed back your chair with enough force that it practically tipped over and exited the dining room.

You made it all the way to the elevator before you heard him calling for you.

"Doll! Doll, where are you?" You stabbed repeatedly at the call button, as if it would bring the car to you faster. You could hear his footsteps drawing closer, and you really didn't want to talk to him right now.

Finally, the elevator doors opened and you slid inside, turning to press the 'Close Door' button just as you saw Bucky turn the corner to the elevator bay. You were ready to breathe a sigh of relief at evading him until Bucky's metal hand shot in the diminishing space between the closing doors. You were trapped.

"Doll, didn't you hear me callin' to you?" he asked as he slid into the car with you.

You looked around, as if searching for another person in the car. "I'm sorry, were you talking to me? Should probably be more specific with your pet names, then. A girl’s liable to get confused." You were impressed that the words came out as hard and bitter as you felt inside.

Bucky flinched. "I deserved that."

You leaned forward to press the button for your floor before crossing your arms and glaring at him. "You fucking think?"

"Look, it just slipped out, okay? I didn't mean anything by it. It's not a big thing you needed to storm out over." You rolled your eyes at him, disgusted that that was the only thing he seemed to realize he'd done to offend you all evening. "Pocket, can we just talk about this?"

"Oh, now you want to talk to me?" you asked, jutting out your hip in annoyance. "Seemed like earlier today, you couldn't wait to not be seen with me, or do you no longer care if people get the wrong idea?"

"Alright," Bucky said, slamming his fist against the elevator's emergency stop button. You stumbled as the car came to a grinding halt. Bucky tried to put his hands on you to steady you, but you pushed him away. "What is going on with you today, Pocket?"

"What's going on with me?" you asked him, incredulous. "What's going on with you? You've been an ass to me all night, that is when you weren't acting like I didn't exist."

"How am I being an ass?" he asked, voice rising. "You're the one who couldn't even hold a civil conversation with our guest! It was embarrassing!" You recoiled as if he'd slapped you, backing away from him until your back hit the elevator wall.

"Wow. Okay then." You blinked heavily, telling yourself not to cry. You'd be damned if you showed weakness in front of him now. Bury the emotions, encase them in ice. "Sorry I'm such a fucking embarrassment to you, Sergeant Barnes. Now that I know how you feel, I'll make sure to stay out of your way so you don't have to put up with me." You moved to press the button to restart the elevator, but Bucky grabbed your wrist.

"Don't do this," he growled at you. "Don't hide behind snappy quips so you can shut down and avoid having a real conversation with me." You stared between his eyes and where he held your wrist in his metal grip. It wasn't tight enough to hurt, but it was tight enough to keep you from breaking free.

His gaze softened as he watched you. "I never said I was embarrassed of you, Pocket. I just don't know why you had to be so rude to Jade at dinner tonight."

"Name one thing I did that was rude to her," you challenged.

"Okay," Bucky stuck out a finger as though he were about to count off all your grievous errors. "Let's see... You said... No, that was Nat... You were... okay, Steve said that... You said... No, that was Nat again." He looked up at you sheepishly. "So, maybe you actually didn't say anything during dinner, but not talking to her was still rude."

You scoffed. "You want to talk rude and embarrassing, Bucky? Do you know how embarrassing it was to have everyone staring at me when you pulled out my chair for Jade, or when my own best friend didn't defend me when she had the audacity to call me a fucking tattler? Like I’m some kind of fucking child?" Your voice was rising and you could feel yourself getting swept up in your anger. "How about the pity looks I got when everyone heard you lie about not seeing anyone, or when you called her 'doll'? Or when you told her I was 'Avengers-adjacent'? You think I'm the embarrassing one? You made me feel like an insignificant piece of shit tonight, Barnes. God, if it hadn't been for Steve saying what he said, you would have driven me to tears."

Bucky had been staring down at his boots as you'd been speaking, as though your accusations were too much for him to face head-on, but at the mention of Steve's name, his head snapped up, blue eyes like ice on your face. "Well, if Steve's such a hero, why aren't you fucking him, then?" he asked, voice clipped and bitter.

You yanked your wrist free from his grasp. "Maybe I should start!" you shouted. "At least he's not embarrassed of me and doesn't forget I exist when another pair of tits shows up!"

Bucky's gaze darkened and in an instant, he was on you, caging your body against the elevator wall, a hand on either side of your head. "Don't you even fucking joke about that," he snarled.

You jutted out your chin, refusing to show any sign of weakness, though his actions were beginning to frighten you. "Who says I'm joking? Sounds like a good idea to me; thanks for suggesting it." You moved to duck under his arm, but he grabbed you by the shoulders, pinning you in place.

His breaths were coming hard and fast now, as though he'd just run a marathon. His gaze darted between your eyes and your lips, as though trying to make up his mind about something. In the next instant, his mouth was crashing down on yours, his tongue demanding entry.

You gasped at the sudden intrusion and Bucky took that as his invitation, deepening the kiss with a primal fervor. His hands gripped your waist, pulling you into him. For a moment, you were stunned, unsure of what was happening. But then instincts took over – he was kissing you, really kissing you. Your stomach fluttered and your heart hammered in your chest.

One of your hands ran through his hair, while the other gripped his shoulder for support. His hands had somehow migrated beneath your shirt, thumbs rubbing soothing circles into the bare skin at your sides. You returned his kiss with as much intensity as he gave. But then suddenly, as if waking from a dream, you remembered why you were angry with him. You pushed against his chest, breaking the kiss.

You were both panting, and despite your attempt to put distance between your bodies, Bucky leaned down, resting his forehead against yours as he fought to catch his breath. "Don't," he whispered hoarsely, his voice heavy with an emotion you couldn't quite place. "Don't sleep with Steve."

"You realize how incredibly infuriating you're being right now, don't you?" you asked. "You can't just treat me like that, ignore me all night in favor of someone else, then kiss me and try to tell me who I can or can't sleep with."

"I know, Sweetheart," he said, nuzzling your nose with his, "I know and I'm sorry, but please, promise me: no matter how angry you are with me, don't sleep with Steve. You wanna fuck someone else to piss me off? Go fuck Sam, Thor, Rhodes, hell, even Parker. I'll hate it, but if it's Steve, it'll fucking kill me."

"Your signals are all over the place tonight, Buck," you sighed, letting out an involuntary moan as his lips found the sweet spot on your neck and sucked at your skin. You had to pull away before he turned you into a babbling mess. "If you think you can just kiss me into oblivion and I'll forgive you for everything you've said and done tonight, you better think again, because that's not happening."

Bucky ran both his hands through his hair, sending it pointing every which way. Then he pressed the emergency stop button again, letting the elevator resume its journey. "I know I owe you an explanation, Pocket," he said. "So, can we go to your room and talk? No interruptions, no one else, just you and me, okay?"

You studied him, considering. A part of you was still so angry at him that you didn't want to hear him out, but the part of you that loved him hated the idea of leaving things in a bad place. In your line of work, you never knew when your next goodbye might be your last goodbye.

"Fine," you said, dropping your shoulders with a sigh. "We can talk, I'll hear you out, but I'm not promising forgiveness."

He smiled, his eyes bright once again. "That's all I ask, sweets. That's all I ask."

Chapter 7: Unburdened

Chapter Text

The silence in your room felt deafening as you closed the door behind Bucky. For the very first time in your friendship, it felt awkward having him in your space, and you could tell he felt it, too. You crossed over to your sitting area and sat in one of your arm chairs, curling up into yourself. Bucky sat in the chair opposite you, leaning his elbows on his thighs to support his weight. The two of you just stared into space for a long moment, avoiding the other's gaze.

"You wanted to talk," you said eventually, "so talk."

Bucky looked up to meet your eyes, and you could see the sadness and defeat in them. "I'm sorry, Pocket. You're right, I've been an ass all night. I didn't do it with the intention to hurt you, but I hurt you anyway because I wasn't thinking about how my actions would affect you, and that's almost worse. I'm sorry."

You exhaled and looked away from him, afraid that if you held his gaze for too long, you wouldn't be able to stop the tears that would certainly come. "Listen, Buck," you said, swallowing hard, "if you're interested in pursuing something with Jade, that's... well, it's your life, you're free to date whoever you want. We never put any labels or rules on whatever this thing between us is, so I know I don't have any right to be jealous, but watching you flirt so openly with her right in front of me, like I didn't even exist? I can't begin to explain to you how worthless and small that made me feel. So, if you think you want to try for something with her, you have to let me know so I can try to move on, because I can't sit around and watch it happen. It's too painful."

When you looked back over at him, Bucky had gotten up and was now kneeling on the floor in front of you, practically beaming as he took you in.

"Why are you smiling like a lunatic?" you asked, an edge of concern in your voice. "You're creeping me out."

"Pocket," he murmured, cupping your face in his hands as he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. For a moment, you considered pulling away, but the feel of his lips on your skin was such a comfort, you stayed still. "My absolute one and only doll, you've got it all wrong. I let you get the wrong idea and stew with it and I am so, so sorry."

You did pull away at that. "What are you talking about? How do I have the wrong idea?"

Bucky leaned back until he was resting on his heels. "I am interested in Jade, that's true." He took your hands in his as you felt your heart drop into your stomach. "But not in the way you think." He brought your hands to his lips and began placing kisses across your knuckles. "Doll, there's only been one girl I've been interested in pursuing something with in the last seventy-five years, and I'm sitting across from her right now."

You shook your head, sure you had misheard him. "I don't understand."

He chuckled and looked up at you through his lashes, the sight so beautiful, your breath caught in your chest. "Pocket, I have been crazy about you since the moment you made that god-awful 'unarmed' joke. At first I thought a girl as pretty as you, as smart as you, as good as you, you'd never give a guy like me, even without my history, a second look, and I'd be content to just watch you from the sidelines, you know? Watch you be beautiful and bright and I'd be happy my world was a better place just because you were in it.

"But you went outta your way to be nice to me. You talked Tolkien with me, you wanted to spend time with me, you wanted to be my friend, and I thought 'This is already more than you deserve, it's more than enough.' Then, when I had my nightmare, you didn't run away. You stayed. You stayed, and you understood, you let me hold you, and I-I was a goner for you. And that night...," he groaned at the memory, "God, that night you kissed me back, and you let me touch you, in all the ways I dreamed of touching you, all the ways I'd imagined touching you while I fucked my fist for practically a year, and I knew I wasn't going to be able to give you up after that.

"You'd told me about your past, how you were scared of relationships but, sweetheart, I was so greedy, I'd take any part of you you were willing to give me, your friendship, your body, even if it wasn't ever gonna be your heart. I'd take any crumb you offered me, and I'd be grateful for it."

You blinked your eyes repeatedly, dazed by his confession and unable to articulate words. Bucky's face fell as your silence stretched on.

"You don't feel the same way," he said, voice low as he stood up. "I'm sorry-- I-I shouldn't have dumped all of that on you. I'll go--." He turned and made steps toward your door, but you jumped up, reaching out to grab his arm.

"Bucky, wait," you turned him back to face you and brought your lips crashing to his with such intensity that he stumbled backwards a few steps before wrapping his arms around you to kiss you back.

"I love you," you gasped when you broke apart for air, breathing out a laugh when his eyes widened comically in shock. "I'm so fucking in love with you that it terrifies me, because it's an entirely brand new experience and I don't know how to do it. I'm so worried that I'm going to fuck it up and scare you away, or that you're gonna realize I'm not worth it and I don't even know how to live without you anymore."

Bucky held your face between his hands. "Are you serious right now?" he asked, eyes searching yours for any trace of deception. "You're not fucking with me?"

You shook your head emphatically, bringing your hands up to cover his. "No, no, I'm completely serious. I love you, James Buchanan Barnes." You laughed; the more you said the words, the more you realized how entirely true they were. "I love you and I've been so insanely jealous all night because I thought you were interested in her."

Bucky looked down at you with the brightest smile, like the sun shining after a storm, before pulling you toward him so he could kiss you again. You hadn't even realized you'd started to cry until, after Bucky had pulled away, he was brushing the tears from your cheeks.

"I love you, Pocket," he whispered as he began peppering kisses across your face. "I love you and I'm so sorry for everything I did tonight that would make you doubt that you're the most important person in my life and the best thing to ever happen to me."

The reminder of his earlier actions drew you out of the emotional haze his declaration had put you in. "Wait," you said, pulling back and putting some distance between the two of you, "if you've been in love with me this whole time, how come you've been weird about Jade ever since you saw her profile in those folders Tony gave us?" Bucky ran a hand down his face and sighed. Taking your hand, he led you back to the armchair you'd previously vacated and sat, pulling you down to sit on his lap and wrapping his arms around you.

"I told you that I am interested in Jade," he began, but when he felt you tense beneath him, he quickly continued, "but I'm not interested in dating her, or sleeping with her. You're the only girl who's got my attention in those departments." He paused to nuzzle at the junction of your neck and shoulder and you took the opportunity to run your fingers through his hair.

"Go on," you gently urged him.

"I'm interested in getting to know Jade, in talking to her, because she's... well, she's like me, you know? She's got the serum, and I don't know anyone else who's got it that's still alive."

You put a finger on his chin, tilting his face up to meet yours. "But, Steve," you said, somewhat confused, "he's got the serum, too, and you talk to him all the time."

Bucky sighed and shook his head. "Steve's got Erskine's serum," he told you. "The one made by the U.S. Government. The one that they-- that Hydra-- used on me, it was similar, but not the same."

"It's the same one that was used on Jade," you said, understanding dawning on you.

Bucky nodded. "Not exact, but what's running through her veins evolved from what's runnin' through mine. And they never put her through cryo, she's never been wiped. She was conscious through everything they put her through, all the experiments, the tests... I was excited to think that there was someone I could talk to about it, who understood. Someone who could maybe help me fill in some of the blanks I still have. Answer the questions I've been too ashamed to ask Steve."

"Oh, Buck," you hummed, running your nails gently across his scalp, "Baby, why didn't you ever say anything?"

He arched into your touch. "Because you've already had to put up with enough of my shit," he said. "I didn't want to burden you with any more of it."

You stopped your scratching ministrations and looked at him. "Now listen here, Barnes," you began, your tone serious, "the last thing you could ever be to me is a burden. I have never met anyone who was funnier, kinder, braver, more selfless or caring than you. You're a fucking gift, Bucky. One that I am endlessly grateful for, everyday."

Bucky groaned. "Pocket, you can't just say things like that while you're sitting on my lap. I try to be a gentleman, but I've got my limits."

You laughed and leaned into him, resting your head against him. You picked up his right hand and began tracing his fingers with your own.

"If me talkin' to Jade makes you any kind of uncomfortable, doll, I promise I'll never speak to, or even look at, her again." He caught your eye and you could see the seriousness of his statement in them. You leaned in to press a chaste kiss to his lips.

"I'm never going to tell you who you can't be friends with, Buck," you told him with a sigh. "I admit that I don't love the idea of you spending one-on-one time with her alone or anything, but I'm also not going to stand in the way of you getting answers you need about your past. But you tell me the second she tries something," you warned. "Super soldier or not, she comes for my man, I'm gonna kick her fucking ass."

"You've got nothin' to worry about, darlin'. I told you, in seventy-five years, it's only been you. Seventy-five years more, it's still always only ever be you." His words made your heart swell in your chest and you leaned in to kiss him again. "Mm, but say that again," he told you.

"The part where I'm gonna kick her ass?" you asked with a smirk.

"No," he said, nipping at the sensitive skin at the pulse point on your neck, "the part where you called me your man."

You shifted so you could wrap your arms around his neck, toying with the soft hairs at the nape. You leaned in close so you could whisper in his ear: "You're my man, Bucky Barnes." A full shiver went through Bucky's body at your words and you relished in the effect you had over him. He ran his vibranium hand up under the back of your shirt, tracing gentle circles on the skin of your lower back.

"And you're always gonna be my girl, Pocket." His flesh hand came up to brush a strand of hair behind your ear, the motion, combined with his words, so tender your breath hitched.

Something seemed to shift in that moment, the air growing thick and heady between you, as if you were both just realizing the new depth of your relationship for the first time.

"Bucky," you breathed, voice barely a whisper, eyes pleading.

He nodded and, placing one hand at the small of your back and the other under your knees and scooping you up as he stood. With the utmost care, he laid you down on the mattress of your bed and rested his body over yours, careful not to put too much of his weight on top of you.

"This feels different," he said as brushed your hair away from your face.

"Good different or bad different?" you asked, bringing your hands up to cup his face, the stubble scratching your palms.

"The very best different." He leaned down, bringing his lips to yours. The kiss was unlike any you'd shared before-- sweeter, more languid, as though you'd been forced to rush every previous kiss and you were both finally allowed to take your time. Bucky tasted like smoked whiskey as his tongue made leisurely sweeps across your mouth, eliciting a moan from you when he sucked on your bottom lip.

You could feel your arousal pooling between your thighs as you kissed, Bucky's flesh hand roaming up the soft skin of your side. He shifted, pressing more of his weight against you, as if he were desperate to be closer, and you could feel the hard press of his erection against your thigh.

You rocked your hips up against his pelvis, drawing a guttural moan from Bucky's throat. He pulled back, drawing himself up on his haunches. His fingers found their way to the hem of your shirt, teasing the edges as he looked up at you, silently asking you for permission. You nodded, sitting up and raising your hands over your head so he could slide your shirt off. As soon as it was free of your arms, Bucky tossed it aside and brought his lips to your shoulder, kissing his way across your collarbone.

Reaching down, you grabbed the hem of his Henley, slowly rolling it up over his abdomen, placing soft kisses on the hard lines of muscles it revealed. Once you'd fully divested him of his shirt, you let your hands roam the broad expanse of his chest, your lips and tongue trailing open-mouthed kisses across the raised pink scars at his mangled shoulder.

"You don't have to," he said, subtly pulling his shoulder back.

"Shush." You pulled him closer, continuing to kiss his puckered flesh. "I love every inch of you, Bucky. You're beautiful."

He pulled away from you, blue eyes boring into yours like he couldn't believe what he was seeing in front of him.

"How are you even real?" he asked, bringing your lips to his once again, his kisses growing more desperate. "I swear to God, Pocket, 'm gonna take you out, date you so fuckin' hard. Be the best goddamned boyfriend you've ever had."

He wanted to be your boyfriend. Not long ago, those words might have terrified you, but now, with the emotions you'd finally both let yourselves express, they thrilled you.

"You gonna take me to brunch, Barnes?" you teased, nipping at his skin as you rolled your hips up into his, your words coming out in gasps between the mewls of pleasure he was drawing from you. "We goin' to the farmer's market? Fuck--- Spend weekends at bed-n-breakfasts in Vermont?"

Bucky growled as he ground his hips down into yours, the length of his erection pressing down against your clothed clit and making you moan. "Sweetheart, I'll do anything you want. You wanna ride around the city on one of those tandem bicycles?" A dragging of his hips that had you arching your back. "I'm here for it. You wanna share a bowl of spaghetti like those dogs in that movie? I'm your man."

"Baby, I would never make you get on a tandem bike," you gasped, faux scandalized at the suggestion. "A swan paddle boat, maybe, but never a tandem bike. I respect you too much for that."

Bucky laughed as he buried into the crook of your neck. "I'd do it for you, anyway."

"That's the most romantic thing anyone's ever said to me," you told him with a smile.

"Oh, baby," he moaned, licking a stripe along the side of your neck that had you shivering, "We gotta fix that. I'm gonna romance the absolute shit out of you." He moved his mouth, placing kisses down your collar bone, between the valley of your breasts, and down your stomach. You bit your lip as his hands reached the waistband of your pants, his eyes looking up to meet yours as he slowly, so agonizingly slowly, began unbuttoning them.

"Ms. (Y/L/N), Sgt. Barnes," FRIDAY's voice echoed across the room. Bucky groaned and dropped his head on your pelvis at the interruption. "Mr. Stark requests your immediate return to the common room."

It was your turn to groan now as you threw your head back onto the pillow. "How much trouble do you think we'll be in if we just ignore it?" you asked him, reaching down to card your fingers through his hair.

He chuckled as he leaned over to pick up your discarded shirts from the floor. "We don't go, he's libel to come barging in, and I don't know about you, but I'm not keen on Stark getting a load of my bare ass as I'm plowing balls-deep into his favorite little protégé," he said, winking at you as he pulled his Henley back over his head.

"Ew," you laughed, "everyone knows Parker's Tony's favorite little protégé these days. Thank you for that mental image."

Bucky shot you a sardonic look. "Arms, smartass," he said, indicating for you to lift your arms above your head so he could put your shirt back on you. "You got some mouth on you. I ever tell you how much I love it?"

*

Presentable once again, you left your room, Bucky taking your hand in his as you headed up to the common room and whispering all of the filthy things he was going to do to you when you both officially retired for the evening. By the time you entered the common room, you were leaning into him in a fit of flustered giggles.

"Good. Looks like you finally got it out of your systems," Tony said once you'd walked through the doors. "What the 'F' Was It?"

You and Bucky exchanged confused glances before looking back to Tony. Tony's eyes cast down to where your hands were entwined. "Looks like the 'fuck's have it!" he called out to the rest of the gathered group. "Everyone who bet "fight," pay up!"

"Boss, did ya'll seriously bet on whether we were fucking or fighting?" you asked, horrified, but still a little amused.

"That's why the game is called "What the 'F'?," Pocket," Tony said with a smirk and playfully exaggerated eye roll. "Try to keep up."

"Well," began Bucky with a smile, "technically, we didn't do either, so you should all be paying us."

"Nope," said Tony, "Cap had 'Firm up their Friendship,' so I guess he's the winner."

"'Firm up their Friendship'?" you asked, raising an eyebrow in Steve's direction. The super soldier shrugged and averted his eyes, a slight blush creeping up his cheeks.

"It had to begin with an 'F,' otherwise it would not fit the parameters of the game," Thor offered helpfully. "It was very humorous."

"Alright, everyone, pay out to Cap," Tony said, reaching for his wallet.

"Not so fast," Natasha interrupted. "I believe you'll recall that I put money on 'frottage,' so if we could get confirmation on that, I'd appreciate it," she gave you both a knowing grin, and you instantly regretted confessing to her how turned on dry humping made you.

"Oh my God," you muttered, putting your face in your hand, now fully horrified.

Bucky looked down at you, face confused. "What the hell's 'frottage?'" he asked cautiously. You whispered the definition in his ear and his entire face turned a crimson red as he furiously rubbed the back of his neck.

"Ha! I knew it!" Nat shouted, raising a fist in the air. "Pay up, bitches!"

There was a chorus of groans as your friends all begrudgingly passed Natasha one-hundred dollar bills.

"...eight, nine, -- hey, who didn't pay up? There should be a thousand bucks here!" Nat looked around the room. "Where did Steve go? Dirty cheat owes me a hundred dollars!" Everyone looked around, but the Captain had vanished from the room. You felt Bucky heave a heavy sigh next to you, and when you turned up to look at him, you noticed the distraught expression on his face.

"What's up, Buck?" you asked, concerned. "Do you know where Steve went?"

He shook his head, the corners of his mouth turning back up as he looked down at you. "I'll tell you later," he promised before kissing the crown of your head.

"So, we're not hiding this anymore?" Sam asked as he walked over to the two of you. "Because I'm so tired of pretending we don't all know you two bumpin' uglies."

You rolled your eyes at Sam, but couldn't hide the smile that was creeping across your face. You wrapped your arms around Bucky's waist, drawing yourself closer to him. "What? You want us to make some kind of official royal proclamation?"

"I, for one, don't really give a shit," said Rhodey from across the room. "I only bet because Romanoff threatened me."

"Thank you for minding your own business at least, Rhodey," you offered, caught somewhere between grateful and insulted. Rolling your eyes at Sam, you turned to Tony. "So, what's so important that you called us back down here, Boss? We were a little... preoccupied."

"Ugh, Pocket, I don't need you to put a picture in my head, thank you," Tony said, waving his hands at you in disgust. "That's a whole new thing to unpack in Virtual Therapy: "How to handle the guy who was brainwashed into murdering your parents repeatedly violating the girl you've come to see as your baby sister."

"Oh my god, Tony," you muttered at the same time Bucky said "It's not violating if she's a willing participant, Stark." You elbowed Bucky gently in his side.

"Don't traumatize him, baby," you murmured. "He's fragile."

"Funny. Very funny," Tony deadpanned, arms crossed over his chest. "Anyway, getting back to very professional Avenger business, you'll notice Ms. Carthage and our SHIELD guests have left for the evening."

Huh. You'd forgotten they'd even been there to begin with, what with all the love declarations and frottage that had taken place with Bucky.

"Yeah, we see that," said Bucky, answering for both of you.

"Which means we have to decide, as a group, if we want to invite Ms. Carthage to join us on a probationary basis. We've already taken a preliminary vote, so we just need you two to cast your ballots. What's it going to be? Yay or Nay?" Tony looked to you first.

You thought back to the tour you'd given her earlier that day, and how unprofessional Jade had been. Even before she'd started her flirtations with Bucky, Jade Carthage had rubbed you the wrong way. You couldn't, in good conscience, agree to invite her onto your team, into your family.

"I vote 'nay,'" you told Tony.

He nodded. "Very well. Barnes? What say you?"

Bucky didn't even hesitate. "If my girl doesn't want her here, then neither do I. I vote 'nay.'"

You looked up at him, your eyes wide as saucers, and you were pretty sure they’d turned heart-shaped. Despite hoping Jade could give him the answers he'd been searching for, Bucky had voted against having her join The Avengers just because she made you uncomfortable.

"Hey," he said, tucking his thumb under your chin and tilting your head up, "I told you, you're the most important person in the world to me, and I want whatever is going to make you happy. If that means not having her around, then I don't want her around."

"Buck," you breathed, standing up on your toes to reach his lips, "I love you."

You did your best to ignore the cheers and goads from your friends as you kissed, and when you pulled apart a short moment later, both your cheeks were red with embarrassment.

"That was disgusting," Tony said, rolling his eyes in that bored Tony way of his. "Too bad it was for nothing. The 'yay's have it, seven to six. We'll be officially extending an invitation of probationary membership to Jade Carthage, AKA: Vixen, first thing tomorrow morning. Class dismissed."

The relief that had washed over you when Bucky had voted 'nay' alongside you evaporated when Tony read out the results. You mumbled half hearted goodnights to your teammates as they trickled out, off to their individual evening pursuits, until it was just you and Bucky left standing in the common room.

"I'm sorry, doll," he murmured softly as he ran his hands gently up and down your arms. "You'll let me know what I can do to help make the next few months with her as easy for you as possible, yeah? Anything you need."

You smiled at him, so grateful that he was being so understanding about this. You put your hands over his as they rested on your arms. "Just love me, okay, Buck?" you asked him. "Just love me and be honest with me; that's all I ask."

He took you in his arms, swaying you back and forth ever so slightly. "That's an easy promise, sweetheart." You felt him rest his chin on the crown of your head. "I give you my word."

Chapter 8: Unexpected

Chapter Text

The next few weeks were some of the best of your life. True to his word, Bucky was romancing the absolute shit out of you. It seemed like nearly every night, he was whisking you out for another romantic dinner, or to this hole-in-the-wall jazz club he found so he could finally take you dancing ("the proper way, not this humping-while-standing-up-thing you kids do nowadays"). He brought fresh flowers to both your suite and your office once a week like clockwork, and the sex-- well, there were some mornings you couldn't even walk properly. It was perfect. He was perfect.

Together, you existed in your own little bubble, a new level of happiness unlocked in both of you that neither one ever expected to achieve.

The day of Jade's move-in to the Tower arrived, and you would have completely forgotten all about it if Tony hadn't mentioned it to you when you passed him in the hall on your way to meet Bucky in the common room for lunch. The reminder didn't weigh you down like you had expected it to. While she was unpleasant, and you didn't expect to become chums with her anytime soon, that burning rage you'd felt for her when she'd flirted with Bucky had subsided. Knowing how he felt about you had worn your jealousy down to non-existent.

You entered the common room, spotting Bucky kneeling in front of the coffee table, his back to you, as he took the lunches he'd ordered for you out of their takeout carriers and arranging them on the surface.

Feeling playful, you decided to sneak up on him, covering his eyes with your hands when you finally reached him.

"You know I heard you coming a mile away, doll," he chuckled, reaching around to pull you into a kiss. "Could smell you, too."

"Oh, I--" You felt the heat rise to your cheeks as you sank next to him on the floor. Just thinking about Bucky was enough to get you aroused most days, but for it to be enough for him to smell--

"Relax, ya pervert; I meant your perfume," Bucky laughed, passing you a bottle of iced tea from the take out bag. You playfully swatted at him.

"You're awful," you admonished with a grin.

"Yet, you love me," he shot back, leaning in to give you a quick kiss.

"The world is full of mysteries," you teased. You started opening up the container of Gaeng Daeng Bucky had ordered from your favorite Thai place. The portions were so large, you'd only ever be able to eat half of it, but that was just fine; your super soldier boyfriend would make sure none of it went to waste.

"I do love that lilac perfume on you," Bucky mused as he dug into his own plate of Pad Krapow Moo Saap. "Mixes so nice with the scent of your pussy."

You choked on a bite of your curry as Bucky broke into a fit of laughter. Handing you your bottle of tea, Bucky gently rubbed your back as he tried to reel himself in. "I'm sorry, doll. Drink this. Don't go choking to death on me, now."

When you were finally able to get your breathing back under control, you shot him a look.

"What?" he said, face the picture of innocence as he held up his hands in surrender. "'s not my fault you have the prettiest pussy I've ever laid my tongue on."

For the sake of propriety, you wanted to be mad at, or at least a little annoyed by him. But, Lord, if his words didn't do things to you. So, instead, you grabbed him by the shirt collar and pulled him toward you in a bruising kiss. His hands quickly guided your body down, until you were lying on the floor and he was resting on top of you, your Thai food temporarily abandoned as you gave in to one another.

Bucky had just begun pawing at your clothes when you both froze at the sound of someone awkwardly clearing their throat in the doorway.

"Common Room's closed for maintenance. Come back later," Bucky called over his shoulder without even looking. You couldn't help but laugh as he resumed kissing you. The man had no shame and you were kinda into it.

"Buck." The single word, low and harsh from Steve left you both frozen in place. In unison, you picked your heads up and looked to the door. Standing in the archway were three individuals-- one looking at you with barely disguised amusement, one with undisguised rage, and one who was trying very hard not to look at you at all.

"I hope you're not fraternizing on company time, Pocket," Tony said with a grin. Surprisingly, he had warmed up to the idea of you and Bucky being together (especially after you had threatened to "take my talents somewhere where my personal life won't be scrutinized and judged." "You wouldn't!" he'd gasped. "I wouldn't want to," you'd replied. "Don't let that be my only remaining option." It had been an empty threat; you both knew it, but it had been enough to get him on board).

The same couldn't be said for the man who refused to look at you, though. Since you and Bucky had officially begun dating, Steve had been ignoring you like you had cooties and he was unvaccinated, and you couldn't, for the life of you, figure out why. You'd brought your concern up to Bucky one evening, sure he'd assuage your anxiety, but he just told you to give the other man time to sort himself, leaving you with more questions. Did Steve hate you now because he thought you'd stolen his best friend from him? Or were those ‘Stucky’ shippers on Tumblr onto something?

"Like you're one to talk, Boss," you sassed back to Tony as you and Bucky extricated yourselves from your compromising position and stood up. Brushing down your pants, you turned to Bucky. "Can't even begin to tell you how many girls I've walked in on this guy with in the office before Pep came into the picture. Scarred me for life."

Tony had a faux-sappy look on his face and let loose a couple of fake sniffles as he clutched his hands to his heart. "Office dalliances of her very own. My little girl is all grown up. There is nothing more for me to teach you, precious Padawan." His hands moved to wipe away at a fake tear.

"Tony," Steve warned with a raised brow.

Tony blanched, as though just remembering his purpose for being in the common room. "Oh, yeah. Um, very unprofessional, you two. I'm shocked. Just scandalized. This is a place of business, blah blah blah and all that. Anyway, you remember Jade Carthage, our newest Probationary Avenger."

Ah, the third individual who was glaring at you with unadulterated hatred in her eyes.

"Vixen, nice to see you again. Welcome to the team." Bucky extended his hand for Jade to shake, and you watched her gaze soften and melt under his as she took his hand.

"Such a pleasure to see you again, Sergeant Barnes," she cooed. When Bucky released her hand, she turned to you, a cold, wicked smile that cut like a knife across her face.

"I don't think we've met," she said, extending her hand to you. "I'm Jade Carthage, but please, call me 'Vixen.'"

"(Y/N) (Y/L/N)," you said, with a shrug, as if completely nonplussed that she claimed not to know you. “My friends call me ‘Pocket,’ but Ms. (Y/L/N) should suffice.'" You took her hand to shake it. "CTO of Stark Industries, head of Innovation and Technology for the Avengers’ Initiative. Bucky's girlfriend." Jade's grip around your hand tightened, her super soldier strength making it feel as though she were crushing your very bones, but you held on, not letting a single ounce of pain show on your face. You'd dealt with worse.

When you didn't back down, Jade let your hand go. You flexed your fingers, relishing in the return of blood flow to your appendages.

"Buck," Steve said, and you were kind of hoping for more than just a single syllable out of him this time, "we're putting Jade next door to you. Mind showing her where to go? We've already had her stuff moved in. Tony and I just need to finalize some paperwork with her and we'll have her back down."

Sensing your body tense up at Steve's request, Bucky placed a reassuring hand at the small of your back. "Well, I'm in Pocket's room most nights now, anyway." He looked down at you, offering a soft smile that you returned. "But since she's just across the hall, yeah. We can walk you down, Jade. That is," he added, his smile turning a little naughty, "if I can convince my girl here to take the afternoon off and indulge me with a bit of her time." His arm moved from your back up to around your shoulders, and he pulled you into him.

"Well," you hemmed, as though not already completely convinced that would be an absolutely wonderful idea, "I have to check with my boss first. Hey, Tony?" He pursed his lips at you, clearly not pleased that you wanted to slack off. "Can I take the afternoon off?" He opened his mouth, most likely to deny you, but you cut him off "Oh, wait-- that's right. I don't actually report to you anymore." You turned back to Bucky. "We're good to go, baby." You winked and blew Tony a kiss. You both knew you had so much unused vacation time stacked up, you could not show up to work for a year and you'd barely tap into it.

"Great," Bucky said with a smile. "We'll finish our lunch and you can meet us back here when you're done finalizing your paperwork, and we'll show you your new digs."

Steve nodded and grunted his consent, while Jade just glared at you.

"Perfect," said Tony with a clap of his hands. Before turning to leave, he looked back at you and Bucky with a conspiratorial nod. "Just make sure to finish off your lunch and not each other, got it? I'm not due to have this carpet shampooed for another couple of weeks, and they charge extra for dealing with bodily fluids."

"Oh, gross, Tony," you moaned, while they walked off, Tony laughing to himself.

Once they were gone and you and Bucky had settled back around the coffee table to eat your now cooling Thai, you leaned in and kissed him. "Thank you," you said when you'd pulled away.

"For what?" he asked, breath a little uneven from the kiss.

"For being amazing and handling that entire thing perfectly," you told him, putting a hand on his knee.

He smiled at you, his blue eyes like crystals. "I told you, sweetheart, gonna be the best goddamned boyfriend you ever had, and that means making sure I'm not putting myself in a situation with her" he nodded his head toward the now empty doorway, "that makes you uncomfortable. Besides, it was really immature of her to pretend she didn't know who you were. I'm not going to spend alone time with someone who disrespects my girl like that."

You brought your hand up to stroke his jaw. "Have I told you how much I fucking love you?"

"Yeah," said Bucky, smiling at you through a big bite of his food, "but you might have to repeat yourself a lot. I am over a hundred, you know. My hearing's not what it used to be."

*

You were leaning against a couch and mindlessly scrolling through your social media feed when Jade walked back into the common room about twenty minutes later.

"Where's Sergeant Barnes?" she asked by way of greeting.

"Bathroom," you said, slipping your phone into your pocket. "Should be back in a minute."

Jade sighed and walked closer to you, her stiletto heels sending her towering above your head. "You know, you really don't have to come with us," she drawled, as if offering you a way out was doing you some kind of favor. "I'm sure Bucky can show me to my room all by himself. There's no need for you to inconvenience yourself to babysit him. Unless, of course, you don't trust him around me." She smirked at you, emerald eyes hard and cutting.

You chuckled, moving away from the couch and standing up straight, though you couldn't hope to match her height. "It's no trouble at all," you replied, your tone sickeningly saccharine. "I'd hardly call it an inconvenience to take a nanosecond to point to your door while my boyfriend and I are already on our way back to my room to fuck."

"You're a real bitch, you know that?" Jade seethed at you. Well. That took you aback.

"Excuse me?" you countered. "I'm a bitch?"

"It wasn't enough for you to humiliate me in front of Stark and Rogers during my interview, but you had to go and make a play for Bucky once you knew I was interested in him," Jade scoffed. "That was a real mature stunt you pulled at dinner, by the way, storming off like a baby, hoping he'd follow you."

You stared at her, at a loss for words. She couldn't be serious; no one suffered this heavily from Main Character Syndrome. "Look," you said after staring at her for a moment, "you're free to think whatever you want, but Bucky and I--"

"You and I what, Sweets?" Bucky returned from the bathroom, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing his lips to your temple. "Hey, Vixen; ready to see your new home away from home?"

Jade battered her lashes up at him. "I can't wait, Sergeant," she purred at him.

"Uh, Bucky's just fine," he said, a slight blush creeping up the side of his neck. You couldn't help but wonder what that was all about. No, you reminded yourself. You two were in a good place. It wouldn't do you any good working yourself up over something that was most likely nothing. Instead, you took Bucky's hand.

"Ready to go, then?" you asked him. "The sooner we show Jade here her room, the sooner you and I can take advantage of my impromptu half day."

It was a tense trip from the common room down to your floor, though Bucky was doing his best to keep up a casual and friendly conversation.

Exiting the elevator onto your floor, Jade said: "Sorry if this is overstepping but, they kept you at the facility in Siberia, didn't they?" You froze in your steps, immediately squeezing Bucky's hand as you felt his entire body go rigid alongside you.

"Jade," you said, your voice almost pleading, "he doesn't really like to talk--"

"Yes," said Bucky, stiffly, as though his voice was coming on autopilot. "Yes, they did."

"They kept me there for a little while in the early 2000s," she said. "I wonder if our time there ever overlapped."

Bucky coughed into his hand. "I, uh... I wouldn't really be able to tell you. I was on cryo most of the time."

Jade gave a soft laugh. "Nu, dazhe ne nakhodyas' na l'du, etogo mesta bylo dostatochno, chtoby zastavit' menya nenavidet' kholod do kontsa moyey grebanoy zhizni." Well, even without being on ice, that place was enough to make me hate the cold for the rest of my fucking life.

Bucky's barked a short but genuine laugh, startling you. "Kholodneye, chem ved'minskaya sis'ka, ya prav?" Colder than a witch's tit, am I right?

"Vo vsyakom sluchaye, kholodneye, chem moi sis'ki." She said to him with a wink. Colder than my tits, anyway.

Bucky threw his head back and laughed aloud at that, and Jade shot you a side smirk. You rolled your eyes.

"If you want to stand here all day and make jokes about tits, Bucky, I may as well go back to work." Your voice was annoyed as you made to extract your hand from his and move away, but Bucky's grip on you tightened.

"What? No! You are not going back to work, Doll," he said as he pulled you into him, letting his arms envelop you. "Vix, your door's right over there," he pointed down the hall, "and please feel free to let us know if you need anything. But for now, if you'll excuse us," without warning, he picked you up and threw you over his shoulder like a goddamn caveman, "I have to fix it so work's the last thing on this one's mind." With a grin, he carried your shrieking self down the hall and into your room.

*

"Sorry to take you away from your tit-ilating conversation, Barnes," you giggled as he carried you inside and deposited you on your sofa. He draped his massive frame over you, peppering kisses along your jaw bone.

"Mm, someone's got jokes," he hummed as he began working open the buttons of your silk blouse. "Only one pair of tits I'm interested in, and they are right..." he undid the final button, exposing your lace bra to his hungry gaze, "here. Hello, ladies." He brought his mouth to the curve of your breasts, planting open-mouthed kisses on your heated skin. "I missed them."

You reached up to card your hands through his hair while he continued his loving attention. "Pretty sure you saw them both this morning, Buck," you laughed.

“But that was hours ago, sweetheart.” Bucky ran his tongue lazily down the valley between your breasts, taking his time to lap and suck at the flesh, his stubble tickling at your skin. "Remember the first time I saw these beauties. You had your tac-suit down around your waist, were wearing that purple bra. God, I love that bra. Couldn't get them outta my head for days after that."

"Ugh." You threw your head back against the couch pillow with a laugh. "That was right after you asked me if I slept with Steve in Latvia." You felt Bucky hesitate in his ministrations. The pause was brief, barely noticeable, but you were so attuned to each other by this point in your relationship it may as well have been a neon sign blazing at you. "Hey," you said, putting a hand on his cheek and turning him to face you, "what's up?" He avoided your gaze. "Buck," you said, more forcefully, "talk to me."

Bucky sighed and rested his head on the swell of your breasts. "'s nothing," he murmured. "Just lemme love on you like you deserve, okay?" He started running the finger of his metallic hand in circles around the clothed nipple of your right breast, the bud tightening and hardening beneath his touch.

"Stop trying to distract me, Barnes," you admonished, swatting gently at his hand. "Tell me what's going on in that pretty head of yours."

Bucky flicked his eyes up to yours, the sparkling blue reflecting back an emotion you'd never seen in them before: fear.

"Hey," you said, your voice turning serious as you sat up, taking his hands in yours as you positioned yourself to face him on the couch, "now you're freaking me out. Honesty, remember?"

Releasing one of your hands, Bucky ran his through his hair. He looked down at his feet. "I'm worried..." he mumbled, not meeting your gaze. "I'm worried if I tell you, you're gonna wanna leave me."

Your breath hitched with concern as you pulled your shoulders back, your mind wandering to all the possible worst-case scenarios of what he could possibly have to tell you that would make you want to leave him. Most of them involved Jade Carthage.

"It's Steve," Bucky said eventually, his voice so low you had to strain to hear him.

You released the breath you'd been holding. "Sweetheart," you said, climbing to your knees and pressing yourself against him, "why on Earth would you think anything having to do with Steve would make me want to leave you?"

Bucky turned to you, a look of complete devastation on his face. "Because he's in love with you, Pocket," he said, his voice so broken it hurt your heart. "He's been in love with you for years."

You couldn’t help it– you threw your head back and laughed. You weren't laughing at Bucky, or the pain he was obviously in, but the idea of Steve Rogers being in love with you, of all people, was absolutely hilarious.

"Steve is not in love with me, Buck. That's... that's ridiculous."

"'s not funny, doll," Bucky said, an adorable pout forming on his lips. "Right before I started going on missions, I told him-- I told him I thought I was fallin' for you. He told me he understood, because he'd fallen for you ages ago, but he was pretty sure he'd lost any chance he had with you after Berlin."

A memory hit you then, of the words Bucky had spoken to you that night at Gino's, when he was drunk on Asgardian liquor. "Don'tcha dare tell Stevie, though, doll," he'd said, "'cause he'd be real put out if he found out I was your fav'rite. Don't want 'im feelin' bad, but 'm not sorry. 'S not my fault, either. He had ages and he didn't do nuthin'. That's on 'im. Not on me, not on you. On 'im." And your argument in the elevator the night you'd finally gotten together: "Promise me: no matter how angry you are with me, don't sleep with Steve. You wanna fuck someone else to piss me off? ... I'll hate it, but if it's Steve, it'll fucking kill me."

You sat back on your heels. "Well, shit," you murmured, completely taken aback in shock.

"I won't get in the way of it," Bucky's voice was small, and when your eyes snapped to him, you saw his were full with unshed tears.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," you said, crawling onto him to straddle his lap and cupping his face with your hands to ensure he was looking at you. "'Get in the way of it'? James Buchanan Barnes, do you honestly think I'm going to break up with you so I can go run off and be with Steve fucking Rogers?"

Bucky rolled his eyes and scoffed at you. "Why not? He's a God damned legend, for fucks’ sake! The kind of man you deserve. You don't think I know that you're too good for me? That it's just a matter of time before you realize I'm not worth it? I’m just an executioner with all his screws loose. You and Steve make more sense than you and I ever would."

You put a hand to your chest, his words causing your heart physical pain. He had made so much progress, but to know that he still held so much self-doubt as to think that he didn't deserve you? "Bucky," you began, tears coming to your eyes as you choked out the words, "I don't want Steve. I want you. I love you. You are everything to me."

"I don't deserve you, doll. I keep waiting for you to realize I'm no good for you and--"

You put your fingers to his lips, cutting him off before he could finish. "I decide what I deserve, Buck," you told him. "I decide what's good for me, and it breaks my fucking heart that you think you're not it, that you've been carrying this around inside all this time, on your own. You are the only man I have ever loved, the only man I ever want to love. How can I make you see that?"

Bucky's arms wrapped around you and he pulled you close, tucking his head into the crook of your neck. You hugged him to you, rubbing your fingers along the back of his head.

"I do see it, sweetheart," he murmured into your skin, "in my heart, I know it. I just... I'm just so fucked up I can't always make my head believe it."

"Baby, have you talked to Dr. Raynor about this?" you asked. You knew Bucky's relationship with his court-appointed therapist was... rocky, at best, but she had done a lot of good for him in the time they'd been working together.

Bucky shook his head. "She, uh, she doesn't know about you," he admitted, embarrassed.

"Oh," you whispered. You were surprised to find that the admission hurt you. Even before becoming his girlfriend, you'd still been Bucky's best friend, and he'd never thought to mention you to his therapist?

"Hey, it's not like that," Bucky began, having read correctly into your silence. "You know everything I talk about with the doc goes in my court record, yeah? I-I couldn't stand the idea of other people reading it, reading about you, how I felt about you. Because, what if someone used it against you one day? Or came at you to hurt me? I’d never forgive myself. So I kept quiet about you. I'm sorry."

"Oh, Buck." You brushed your lips to the top of his head. "That's not something you need to be sorry for, I promise, but, baby, I'm worried about you. It scares me that you still think so little of yourself that you don't think you deserve to be loved when you deserve everything good. Promise me you'll talk to Dr. Raynor about it, please? For me?"

Bucky raised his head from your neck and rested his forehead against yours. "Yeah," he conceded, letting out a breath. "I promise. I'll talk to Raynor."

You kissed his forehead. "Thank you." You moved down to kiss his eyes. "Thank you." His nose. "Thank you." You brought your lips to his, running your tongue gently across the seam of his lips until he parted them for you, deepening the kiss.

"'m sorry I ruined our afternoon, darlin'," Bucky murmured against your lips, his voice heavy with regret. "Shouldn’t have brought it up like that." His fingers traced soft patterns along the smooth skin of your exposed sides.

"Hey, nothing's ruined," you told him. "I'm just glad you finally said something. I hate the idea of you dealing with things alone, when you don't have to." You rubbed your nose against his before trying to lighten the mood a little. "So Captain America's really in love with me, huh?" you teased.

"Pocket," Bucky growled, nipping at the soft skin at the base of your neck.

"What?" Your voice was the epitome of innocence. "It's very flattering. Going to do wonders for my ego, having two Avengers in love with me."

"I've created a monster," Bucky moaned with a laugh. "I should have never told you."

You shrugged your shoulders. "Too late now; cat's outta the bag. No offense to Cap, though-- I'm only in love with one Avenger, so his feelings are irrelevant."

Bucky gave you a teasing smirk. "That so?"

You nodded, a mischievous grin sweeping across your face. "That's right. Think Thor would ever give me a second look?"

"Oh, you've got jokes, huh?" Bucky's fingers moved from gently caressing the skin of your sides to a full on onslaught of tickling.

"Barnes," you cried through your laughter as you struggled to get away from him, "you knock that off this instant!" Bucky just held you closer to him, his fingers dancing along your skin until you were writhing in his grasp.

"You gonna take it back?" he asked, grinning as you struggled.

"Yes, yes! I take it back," you managed to get out. Bucky ceased his assault and brought his hands to rest on your hips while you caught your breath. "You do not play fair, Barnes," you chastised once you could get a full sentence out again.

Bucky's blue eyes twinkled with laughter, the sight of it such a contrast to his earlier dismay that it made your heart soar. You'd give your life in this very moment if it meant that look would never leave his eyes (though, you were pretty sure that, if you died, he’d never laugh again). "You fired the first shot, doll," he said, pressing a kiss to your nose. "Though by this point, shouldn't find it that surprising."

"I love you," you said, all traces of levity suddenly leaving your expression.

He cocked his head, eyes questioning as he took in your sudden change in demeanor. "What brought that on?"

You shrugged, your silk shirt falling back slightly off your shoulders. "Just want you to know it," you told him. "Really, really know it. Trying to be serious, for once in my fucking life." Bucky chuffed, but you went on: "I don't ever want you to doubt it, or wonder if it's real, if you deserve it. I love you. With everything I have. Everything I am." You bit your lip, and though you'd told him countless times now that you loved him, something about this particular declaration left you feeling self-conscious.

Bucky reached a hand up and brushed a strand of hair that had fallen into your face behind your ear. "Sometimes," he said, voice low and husky, "I think I dreamed you up, that you're just a figment of my imagination. I'm terrified I'm going to wake up in some Hydra base, and the last year and a half's been a dream my broken mind invented to keep me from losing my shit, because how could someone so perfect possibly be real?"

Your breath hitched as he traced his index and middle finger of his human hand along your jawline and down your neck, across your collarbone, sending you into a full-body shiver.

"I promise, it's real, Buck," you whispered. "Tell me: Does this..." you rolled your hips to press your heated core against the semi-hard length of him "feel like a dream to you?"

The rakish, smug smirk that Bucky unleashed on you then was seduction personified. "That always feels like a fucking dream, sweetheart," he drawled, pushing his own hips up against you and stealing a soft gasp from your lips. He began pressing soft kisses to your neck and chest.

"Weren't we supposed to spend this afternoon fucking?" you breathed. Bucky huffed a laugh and began nipping tiny marks into your neck.

"That was the implied, yet unspecified arrangement, yup."

"Then why are we still wearing so many fucking clothes?"

Instead of a response, you felt Bucky's hands reach up under your ass, lifting you up as he stood. You wrapped your legs around his waist and let him carry you to your bed. Letting you down with the utmost gentleness, he slid your shirt all the way off your arms before he nestled himself beside you, lips never leaving your skin.

Your hands made their way under the fabric of his tight tee, fingers running along the lines of the taut muscles of his chest. Gently scratching your nails down his skin, you elicited a low moan from Bucky's lips.

"Fuck, doll," he murmured into your lips, "do that again." You did, only slightly harder this time around, and Bucky moaned even louder.

You reached for the hem of his shirt and tugged it, needing him to sit up so you could pull it over his head. Emboldened now, you took his hands and placed them on the button of your waistband.

"Too many clothes, Barnes," you warned him. Bucky didn't need to be told again before he started unbuttoning your pants, helping you pull them down and off. He made to reach for your covered heat, but you gently pushed his hand away. "Not yet," you told him before bringing your lips to kiss him again.

While your tongues gently swept across one another, you reached down and began unbuckling his belt and unzipping his fly. Once that was done, you broke the kiss and crawled down the bed, Bucky trying to chase your lips.

"Lie back," you ordered, eyes wicked. When he complied, you reached for his waistband, pulling his pants and boxer briefs down and off his muscled legs. His raging erection sprang free from the confines of its cloth prison. You pushed his legs apart as you positioned yourself between them on your knees.

"Well, isn't this a pretty sight?" you hummed, brushing your hair back from your face. Leaning down, you licked a long, slow stripe along the underside of his cock, letting your tongue twirl around the aching red tip that was already dripping with pre-cum.

"Fuck, Pocket," Bucky moaned. You felt his hands reach for your hair, but you pulled back.

"Nuh-huh, Sergeant," you admonished with a wagging finger. "No touching. You'll get your turn." Three things happened at once in conjunction with your words: first, you noticed Bucky's pupils dilate with lust; second, a blush began to spread up his neck; and third, and perhaps most revealing of all, his cock twitched beneath your hand.

"Well, well, well," you mused, realization suddenly dawning on you, "it seems like somebody has a Sergeant kink. Good to know."

Bucky chuffed and put his vibranium arm behind his head, propping himself up so he could watch you, and rested his flesh arm across his abdomen. Bless him; you knew he'd try to keep his hands to himself, but would ultimately end up failing. "I don't know what you're talking 'bout, sweets."

You just smiled at him before returning to the task at hand, you proceeded to devour his cock as though it were your last meal, bringing him deep into your throat and hollowing out your cheeks as you sucked before pulling back off.

"So fucking heavy, Sarge," you murmured as you rolled his balls in your hands. "Bet you're getting real close, huh?" You looked up to see Bucky's eyes screwed shut as he nodded, his human hand now fisting the sheet next to him as a dark red flush spread across his cheeks. "Hey," you said, tapping him on the thigh, "eyes on me, soldier."

When his beautiful blue orbs had returned to yours, you smiled at him, then proceeded to move from your position, crawling yourself up until you were straddling him. Moving the gusset of your panties to the side, you slowly eased yourself down on him, relishing in the stretch until you were fully seated, your clit rubbing against his public bone as you leaned forward.

"Jesus," Bucky groaned when you began moving yourself up and down on his length, riding him at a slow, steady pace. "You're so fucking perfect, doll. I love you. Love you so fucking much."

With a smile you leaned back, letting your spine arch as you moved. Without warning, you felt Bucky sit up to meet you. You knew he couldn't keep his hands to himself.

"Think you can throw these in my face and expect me to keep my hands off?" he asked with a grin, pulling the cups of your lace bra down to expose your breasts. He brought his mouth to your nipple, teasing and sucking at the supple flesh as his hands found your waist. He began fucking up into you, the sensation combined with his attention to your breasts building your high.

"Oh, God. Right there, Buck," you moaned when his cock hit the right spot inside of you. "Just like that; don't stop!" You moved your hands to his back, fingernails leaving long, red marks in his skin.

"Fuck," he growled. He increased the pace and intensity of his thrusting, working himself in and out of you like a piston. "God, you feel so fucking good. So tight. I wanna stay inside you for the rest of my damned life."

"I'd let you," you gasped, your thoughts becoming hazy as the tension inside you continued to build. "Always want you inside me."

Bucky's metal hand left your hip and made its way to your clit. The sudden, cold sensation as he began rubbing tight circles across the sensitive bundle of nerves sent you over the edge, and soon you were coming undone. You could feel your inner walls clenching around Bucky's cock, squeezing and begging it for his own release.

"Fuck, you're gripping me so tight. I'm gonna--" With a guttural moan that was practically a howl, Bucky reached his own peak, sending rope after rope of cum into your waiting channel. You draped your body across him in your spent state, resting your head on his shoulder as he collapsed back onto the bed.

"Was that real enough for you?" you asked him with a smirk as you worked to catch your breath. Bucky hummed, working both hands along the line of your spine.

"Mmm, I dunno, sweets. Felt like the best kinda dream to me." You nipped playfully at his jaw. "Thank you for being so good to me."

"My pleasure," you giggled, "truly."

"My girl and her jokes," he laughed, planting a kiss to the top of your head. "How 'bout I run us a bath, get you all cleaned up?"

You turned your head to look up at him, batting your lashes. "Bubbles, too?" you asked sweetly.

Bucky rolled his eyes. "Fine, bubbles, too." You tried to suppress your snort; though he would never admit it out loud, you knew Bucky secretly loved bubble baths, possibly more than you did. A simple indulgence of the comfort he'd so long been denied.

While he was in the bathroom, running the water, his phone buzzed from the pocket of his discarded jeans.

"Baby, you got a text message," you called.

"Can you check it for me, doll?" he called back. "Got bubbles on my hands."

You laughed to yourself as you crawled to the edge of the bed, picking his jeans up from the floor and searching the pockets for his phone. You stole a quick glance at the screen.

"It's Steve," you told him as you walked his phone back to him in the bathroom. You held it out to him, but he had his hand under the tap, checking the temperature of the water.

"What's he want?" Bucky asked. You didn't know; you hadn't wanted to invade his privacy by looking at his messages, and now his phone had locked itself. "Can you read it to me? Passcode's your birthday."

You held the phone to your chest, cheeks heating with affection. "Bucky Barnes," you said softly. "That..." You had trouble putting the emotions into words. First, that he trusted you with his passcode, and second, that he'd chosen your birthday.

He turned from the tub to look at you, shit-eating grin on his face. "What?"

"That is incredibly fucking sweet, thank you." You entered the numbers into the phone and checked the message from Steve.

"Oh," you pouted, the sweetness in your chest deflating somewhat. "Steve wants you to take point on Jade's training." You stuck out your tongue. "Ew."

Bucky laughed, running a wet hand through his hair, causing it to stick up adorably in all directions. "Tell him I'll think about it and let him know," he said. "I need to discuss it with my girl first."

You smiled as you thumbed the reply back to Steve. "Thank you, Buck."

"Of course, doll." He beckoned you over. "Now come here, time to get you all cleaned up."

"Aw, but Buck," you whined as you walked over, unclasping your bra and stepping out of your panties, "I thought you liked me dirty."

Bucky paused in his removal of his boxer briefs. "You keep that kind of talk up, I have half a mind to keep you dirty."

You tapped his chest as you stepped into the blissfully warm water of the sunken tub. "Promises, promises." He quickly followed you, and you soon settled, him with his back against the wall of the tub, and you against his chest. "57038," you said to him, once you both were submerged in bubbles.

"What now?" he asked in surprise.

"My phone," you told him. "The passcode's 57038. I want you to have it."

He leaned down to kiss the side of your neck. "Thank you, sweets, but you didn't have to tell me just because I told you mine." He paused, thinking for a moment. "Why does that number sound so familiar?"

You chuckled and turned to pull on the chain that held his dog tags around his neck. Holding it out in front of him, you pointed to the last five digits of his military service number. You watched him swallow thickly as he made the realization.

"You..." he paused to clear his throat, "you use my numbers for your passcode?" You shrugged your shoulders.

"Is that too much?" you asked hesitantly, feeling suddenly shy.

"No! God, no!" Bucky wrapped his arms around you and buried his face into the crook of your shoulder. "I honestly don't know how you're even real," he murmured into your skin. "Keep thinking I'll close my eyes and you'll disappear." Reaching around, you ran your fingers through his hair.

"I'm real," you promised him, leaning back into his chest, "I'm real, this is real. And I'm not going anywhere."

He nuzzled into you, as if he could burrow into your skin in order to be closer to you. "I know I said I'd get you all cleaned up but, fuck, doll, you keep saying stuff like that..."

You wiggled around in his arms until you were facing him, legs wrapped back around his waist and arms draped around his neck; your favorite place to be. "Tub sex?" you asked, voice full of hope and excitement.

Bucky threw his head back and laughed before coming back down to kiss you. "Tub sex," he agreed with a smile.

Chapter 9: Unselfish

Chapter Text

The following morning, you and Bucky made your way out of the Tower to an adorable Midtown café you’d been coming to since you first began spending time together. The interior consisted of high windows, exposed brick walls, comfortable seating, and plants everywhere. You made your way up to the loft to commandeer one of the oversized plush armchairs for the two of you while Bucky placed your orders.

“Peanut butter coffee shake,” he said when he arrived, handing you your order as he snuggled down into the chair next to you. With the hand that wasn’t holding his large black coffee, he adjusted your legs until they were draped over his lap and he began running his fingers along the length of your thigh.

“Thank you,” you murmured, leaning over to press a quick kiss to his cheek. You'd told him you hadn’t minded waiting in line with him, or even going to get the drinks yourself while he got the seats, but he scoffed.

“What kind of boyfriend would I be if I let my girl wait in line when I’m perfectly capable of doing it, myself?” he retorted. So, you’d accepted his chivalry.

“So,” you began after a few moments of companionable silence and sips of your respective beverages, “we should talk about Steve’s request. You taking on Jade’s training.”

Bucky slung an arm over the backrest of the armchair. “Nothing to talk about, doll. I’m gonna tell him I won’t do it. I don’t want you feeling uncomfortable.”

You offered him a soft smile, grateful that he was taking your feelings, however ridiculous and unfounded they might have been, into consideration. You’d been giving the matter a lot of thought, however, and as far as you were concerned, there was only one course of action he could take.

“I really appreciate that, Buck,” you said, lifting a hand up to caress his jawline, “but I think you should do it.”

He gaped at you, surprise and confusion plainly evident across his face. “Is this one of those boyfriend tests Sam’s always making me watch videos of on that clock app?” he asked, looking around as though searching for a camera that might be recording him.

You chuckled, taking his hand and rubbing comforting circles into the mound above his thumb. “No, I promise it’s not. I’ve just been giving it a lot of thought, and I can’t justify asking you not to do it. I don’t love the idea, I won’t lie about that, but if Jade’s going to become the best Avenger she can possibly be, she’s going to need the best teacher. There’s no one else more suited to train her than you, and that’s just a fact. I don’t have to like it, but her ability to be a good teammate, to ensure that she knows what she’s doing and keep you and the others safe on missions? Well, that trumps my feelings on the matter.”

Bucky took your joined hands and raised them to his lips, pressing a kiss to the pulse point of your wrist. “Are you absolutely sure? If you have any doubts, I’ll tell Steve he can train her, himself.”

You shook your head. “It’s okay, baby, really. I may not trust her as far as I can throw her, but I trust you. That’s good enough for me.”

Bucky wrapped an arm around you and pulled you closer, kissing your temple. “You’ll tell me the second she does anything that makes you uncomfortable, alright, sweets?” he asked. “I won’t be able to live with myself if anything I’ve done inadvertently makes you unhappy. Promise me, okay?”

“I promise,” you said, smiling back at him as you rested your head into the crook of his shoulder. “I only ask that you be transparent with me, you know?” Bucky gave you a questioning look, silently asking you to elaborate. “Just, like, let me know if she says or does anything inappropriate, tell me if you’re going to spend any one-on-one time with her, that sort of thing. Is that cool?”

Bucky nodded as he ran his fingers up and down your upper arm. “Yeah, that’s easy enough,” he said. “But I really don’t think you gotta worry about it, doll. I mean, what’s a girl like her gonna see in a guy like me, anyway?”

You pulled your head back. “What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked, a note of defensiveness creeping into your voice. “What, you think she’s too good to be interested in you? Because if so, what does that mean you think about me?”

Bucky put his coffee cup down on the table in front of you and positioned himself so that he was looking you directly in the face. “No. Not at all, sweetheart. I mean, she doesn’t know me. Not like you do, not even close. All she knows is what she’s seen in the media. The Winter Soldier. The assassin, the killer. She doesn’t know Bucky Barnes. You know me. You know who I really am. You see me. She can’t.” He said the words as if it were so obvious, so apparent, that there was no way Jade could be truly interested in him simply because she didn’t know who he truly was, that it made you question why you were letting yourself get so worked up over it in the first place.

“Listen,” he said, reaching a hand up to cup the side of your face and brush back your hair, “I hate that you’re getting yourself so upset over this. You have absolutely nothing to worry about.”

“I just don’t trust her, Buck,” you murmured, leaning into his palm. “She’s manipulative, plays fast and loose with the truth, and she’s made it perfectly clear to me that she wants to sleep with you.”

Bucky pulled his head back slightly. “When did she say that?”

Shit. You hadn’t meant to divulge that nugget of truth. Might as well come clean; cat was out of the bag now. “When I was doing her Tower tour,” you told him with a sigh. “She was telling me that she was going to sleep with you, find out if your super soldier stamina could make her come for hours, and then let me know all about it.”

Bucky began laughing, and when you glared at him, he raised his hand in surrender. “I’m sorry, but it’s kinda pathetic of her, don’t you think? I mean, she’s acting like she’s hot shit, like she’s god’s gift to men, and she has no clue she’s talking to the only woman alive who's actually been on the receiving end of my ‘super soldier stamina’ . I sincerely hope you told her you weren’t in need of her offer, since you already knew for yourself. Every day, and usually more than once, I might add.”

You snorted. “I might have mentioned it, yeah,” you muttered, ducking your head to hide your embarrassment behind your hair.

Bucky leaned his head back. “That’s my girl,” he laughed heartily. He pulled you closer to him until you were sitting in his lap. “No wonder she’s been such a bitch to you. I bet she didn’t expect you to bring her down a peg. Serves her right.”

You put down your own coffee and wrapped your arms around him, snuggling your body as close to Bucky’s chest as you could get. “Thank you,” you said. “You always know what to say to make me feel better.”

“Hey,” he said, stroking your hair, “I’m only telling you the truth. "I love you, and only you. I don’t want you ever doubting that.”

“I don’t, and I won’t,” you assured him. “And I love you, too. So fucking much.”

“Too bad we’re not back at the Tower,” Bucky joked. “Stark’d be getting another dollar in his jar.”

“No worries there,” you said, holding up your wrist to show him the silver bangle you always wore. “In addition to keeping track of my location, vitals, and being a distress beacon, Tony also programmed it to count every time I swear, so FRIDAY never misses a thing.”

Bucky’s eyes widened. “So, you’re saying that last week, when we were in the bathroom at that bar…”

“And I kept begging you to ‘fuck me harder’ against the sink?” you giggled. “Yup. Every single one of those counted.”

“God, how much money is in that jar by now?” he asked with a laugh.

“I honestly have no idea,” you told him. “A lot, I’d wager. It’s been almost a year and a half.”

Bucky leaned in to kiss you. “Told you I love that filthy mouth of yours,” he whispered into your lips. “What are you going to do with all of it?”

“Hmm,” you hummed. “Maybe you and I could take a long vacation, go somewhere, just the two of us.”

“Oh yeah?” he asked, a smile building across his beautiful face. “Where’d you have in mind?”

“I dunno,” you said, leaning in to kiss him again. “I’ve always heard Tahiti was a magical place.”

*

You weren’t going to admit it, but you regretted giving your okay to Bucky training Jade almost immediately. If she wasn’t asking him for extra training sessions, she was calling him with some stupid request or another.

First, it was that the lights in her room weren’t working:

“It was weird,” said Bucky when he’d come back from looking at them. “All the bulbs in her room were loose. Only thing I needed to do was tighten them.”

You kept your mouth shut, simply arching an eyebrow at him and hoping he genuinely believed that.

Next, she was constantly wanting to eat with him. “She’s lonely,” Bucky had told you when he’d left to have breakfast with her for the fourth morning in a row. “She hasn’t made many friends here yet. I’m just keeping her company.”

You let it slide; it was just breakfast following training, after all, and you were usually already at work by then. You still had lunch and dinner with him everyday.

Until she started sitting next to him at dinner, as well. At first, it wasn’t that big of deal; she was just a body at the table, and you could ignore her with no problems. But she slowly began monopolizing Bucky’s attention throughout the meals, asking him questions about combat training, protocols, any and everything innocuous and Avengers-related that made you feel like you couldn’t speak up against it without coming off as irrationally jealous.

After three evenings of being completely iced out of their conversation, you started engaging solely with Steve. It wasn’t your classiest move, knowing how Steve felt about you (and how Bucky felt about the way Steve felt about you) and using it for your own advantage, but he was still your friend, your family; it would have been weirder if you hadn’t spoken to him, at all. Of course, Bucky noticed this, and in seemingly no time at all, dinner returned to its normal dynamic, though you felt guilty about your behavior and tried to include Steve more than you had before.

But soon, she took lunches, too, and you couldn’t really find away around that.

Then she was complaining that the Tower was so boring and could he show her around the city? At least Bucky always insisted that you accompany him if he was going to go somewhere with Jade. It wasn’t your ideal way of spending the diminishing amount of time you had with Bucky, but you tried to make the best of it, though she went out of her way to make jabs and backhanded comments at your expense.

“It was so generous for Stark to have paid for your college education,” she cooed when you were all walking around Central Park together. “I can’t imagine what you must have done to warrant such generosity.”

“I’ve paid him back tenfold by working for him,” you told her through clenched teeth. You were usually able to brush off these disguised accusations with ease, but there was something about Jade’s insinuation that your relationship with Tony had some sort of seedy beginning that filled you with white hot rage.

“Oh, I’m sure you’ve worked very hard to get where you are today,” she oozed. “I bet Stark had you practically crawling on all fours to get you in your position.”

You felt the blood rising to your cheeks as anger flowed through you. You shot Bucky a glance, looking for him to tell her off, to defend you, something, but if he noticed the hidden barb in her words, he gave no indication of it.

“Pocket’s a genius,” he said instead, beaming at you and kissing the crown of your head. “Stark knew she was the best of the best, so it makes perfect sense that he would do whatever he needed to do to get her on his team. What was it you said, sweets? He got a good return on his investment in you.”

From outside of Bucky’s line of sight, Jade rolled her eyes, not pleased that her subtle attack hadn’t had its desired effect.

“Oh, Sarge,” she cried, grabbing on to his arm and tugging him away toward the pond, “look at the ducklings! Let’s go see them!” Now it was your turn to roll your eyes as Bucky turned to you with a shrug, as if to say “what can I do?” as he let Jade drag him away.

Annoyed, you chose not to follow, instead, walking along the path to buy yourself a hot pretzel from a nearby vendor.

“Hard being the third wheel when your friends are on a date, huh?” the vendor asked with a chuckle as he handed you your drink order.

“Excuse me?” you asked, pausing in the process of putting mustard on your pretzel. “That’s actually my boyfriend.”

The vendor looked taken aback. “You sure about that, honey?” He nudged his chin in the direction of the pond, where Jade was hanging onto Bucky’s arm as though he were a life preserver and pointing enthusiastically at the ducklings.

“Yes, I’m sure,” you snapped, grabbing your items and turning away from the rude man. You found yourself a bench where you could observe the two of them from a distance.

You had finished your pretzel and your iced tea before Bucky seemed to notice you weren’t alongside him. You crossed your arms over your chest and watched as he looked around for you, his face beginning to show panic when he couldn’t find you right away. Jade seemed to try to calm him down, but he wasn’t having any of it.

There was a small part of you, not so deep inside, that you weren’t proud of, that was glad to see him freak out at not being able to find you. Serves him right for ignoring you for her. You watched as Bucky jogged back to where he had last seen you on the path, calling your name, Jade following behind him.

“She probably just went back to the Tower,” you heard her say to him. “Why don’t we just enjoy the rest of our day, and you can meet up with her later? No point in letting her ruin our fun,” she added.

“Absolutely not,” Bucky snapped at her. “She wouldn’t do that! Fuck. I shouldn’t have gotten distracted.” He pulled out his phone and you knew he was going to call you.

You answered the phone before your ringtone could even begin. “Yes?” you asked, your voice cold.

“Baby! God, where are you?! I turned around and you were gone! I was worried sick.”

“I’m exactly where you left me half an hour ago, Barnes,” you said. “The two of you looked so fucking cozy; I didn’t want to interrupt your little date.”

You watched as his head shot up, scanning the path until he saw you sitting on your bench. When your eyes met, the relief on his face was unmistakable. You disconnected the call and sat waiting for him to make the next move.

He ran toward you, getting down on his knees in front of you before throwing his arms around you and pulling you into him.

“God, doll,” he murmured into your hair. “You were right behind us, and when I turned around after a second, you weren’t there, all I could think was that something terrible had happened to you.”

You glanced behind his shoulder to see Jade, hip cocked and arms across her chest, looking annoyed. “I didn’t mean to make you worry; I just got a pretzel. But that’s the thing, Buck,” you said as you pulled back from him, “I didn’t follow you at all and it took you thirty fucking minutes to notice.”

His face fell as the realization hit him. “Thirty minutes? Fuck. ‘m so sorry, Pocket,” he said, sincerity lacing his voice as he ran a hand through his hair. “That was shit of me. I don’t have an excuse.” He took your hands in his.

“See,” Jade said as she came up behind him, “she’s fine. Just being dramatic. I told you not to worry about her.”

“Vix,” Bucky said without looking at her, “go back to the Tower.” His voice was low and gruff as he spoke to her.

“What, like, by myself?” she asked, shocked that he would suggest such a thing.

“Yes. Alone.” Bucky said. When she made no motion to leave, he turned to look at her. “Now!” he growled before turning back to you.

“Fine, I’m going,” she said as she started to walk away, but not before sneering at you and flipping you the bird.

Once he was confident she was out of earshot, Bucky stood up and came to sit next to you on the bench. “This is the kinda shit you’ve been worrying about, isn’t it?" he asked you.

You didn’t respond for a while, just looked at him, trying to get your words in order. “I told you that I’m not going to control who can or can’t be friends with, Bucky,” you said eventually. “And I do still mean that. I don’t control you– no one controls you. But no girl is going to love seeing their boyfriend go off with someone else and completely forget about them.” You took a deep, sad sigh. “It hurts, Buck. It makes me feel like… like you only brought me with you out of some kind of obligation, and you’d rather I wasn’t here.” He tried to say something, but you kept talking. “I’m not saying that was your intention; I know it wasn’t. That’s just what it feels like. And maybe I’m being irrational, overly jealous. Maybe I’m being selfish. I don’t know. I’ve never done this before, this relationship thing. Ever. I’m just kinda… flying blind here.” You blinked away some tears that were threatening to fall. “Maybe I am too dependent on you. Maybe you’d be better off with someone who has their shit together and doesn’t freak out whenever another girl gets near you.” You shrugged your shoulders, feeling defeated.

Bucky fiercely wrapped his arms around you, squeezing you to his chest. “Stop,” he said, his voice almost a sob. “Stop saying things like that. It’s not true. I am begging you, never think that’s true. Pozhaluysta, lyubov' moya.” Please, my love. Bucky’s voice was raspy, as though he were choking back tears of his own. “Ty — vse, chto ya kogda-libo khotel. Vse, chto mne nado.” You are everything I ever wanted. Everything I need. “You make me so damned grateful that I fell off that train,” he whispered.

You pulled your head back, studying him in surprise. “Buck, you don’t mean that. You can’t mean that, not after everything—”

“It’s the truth,” he told you, hands coming up to cup your face, making sure you were looking at him, really looking at him. “If I hadn’t fallen, I’d have probably died in a German trench long before you’d ever been born, and the idea of it makes me sick. And everything—everything-that happened after, all of that led me to you. I can’t resent a single second of it, because it brought me here, now. Do you understand how fucking precious that makes you? How fucking special you are?”

You stared at him, stunned at his revelation. Bucky took your silence as an opportunity to pull you into him in a bruising, desperate kiss. If you’d been more self-aware, you’d have pulled back, embarrassed at being so brazen with your affection in public, but all you could do was kiss him back with every ounce of love you felt for him. And it felt so absolutely right.

Far too soon for your liking, you both had to come up for breath. Pressing your foreheads together, Bucky sighed contentedly. “What do you need me to do? I’ll do anything you need, you know that, right?”

You nodded, the movement of your head bringing his along with it and you both giggled. “I know,” you said. “Maybe no more outside-the-Tower excursions?” you asked timidly, hoping it wasn’t too big a request. “Or, if you still want to do them, maybe I don’t come with you? Being around her sets me off. It’s too much ”

“Consider them ended,” he said, without hesitation or pause. “Not even a question. I wouldn’t even consider going out of the Tower with her without you with me, and I’m not going to force you to spend time with her.”

“I’m so sorry,” you said softly. “I feel like such a controlling bitch.”

“No, baby, no.” He tucked your head under his chin as he held you to him. “That is the exact opposite of what you are.” You believed him, you really did, but it did nothing to quell the disgust you felt with yourself.

*

The next day, you called upon the one person you knew had been in your shoes and you hoped could help you make sense of your emotions. You knocked on the door of Pepper’s office, letting yourself in when she called out an invitation to enter.

“Pocket!” She put down the file she was perusing and stood up, walking around her desk to embrace you. “To what do I owe the pleasure, honey?”

“Hey, Pep,” you said, returning her hug with all the affection you felt for her. “Do you have a minute? I was hoping to talk to you about something.”

“For you?” she asked, motioning for you to sit in one of the armchairs that sat near the windows. “Always.” She called for her assistant to bring you both a pot of tea and you made idle small talk while you waited for it to arrive.

“So,” she said once her assistant brought the tea and poured you both a cup, then departed with orders to hold all Pepper’s calls, “to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit? Is it business or personal?”

“Personal,” you told her, taking a sip of the Earl Grey.

“Did something happen with you and Bucky?” she asked, concern lacing her voice. “Did he do something?”

“No,” you laughed, though there was no real humor in it. “God, no. Bucky’s been perfect. I’m worried that I’m the problem.” You put your cup down and looked at her. “Pep, when you and Tony first got together, how did you handle it?”

Pepper leaned back in her chair. “You’re gonna have to be a bit more specific, honey. Tony’s given me a lot to handle over the years.”

You snickered at that. “Yeah, fair enough,” you said. “I guess I’m not really sure how to word this. We both know that, before you, Tony was a… well…”

“A giant slut?” Pepper offered.

“I was going to say something like ‘amorously adventurous’, but yeah, ‘giant slut’ also works,” you said with a laugh. “Even after you two became an official couple, women were still throwing themselves at him. How… how did you deal with it? Sometimes I just get so angry, so jealous, I want to scream. I hate feeling like this.”

Pepper reached across the coffee table and took your hand in hers. “Oh, honey,” she said, her voice conveying her sympathy. “I’m going to tell you something that took me a lot of time and pain to learn: You can’t control what other people are going to do. I won’t lie to you, it wasn’t easy for me. Every woman who made a pass at Tony, I kept thinking ‘she’s prettier, she’s smarter, she’s younger; why would he choose me when he could have any or all of them?’"

“But,” you began, “you’re Pepper Fucking Potts. You’re amazing.” The thought distressed you. If someone as absolutely wonderful as Pepper struggled like that, what hope was there for you?

“That’s what Tony said.” Pepper offered you a wistful smile. “I had to realize that it didn’t matter what any of those other women did, how they threw themselves at him. The only thing that mattered was how Tony reacted to them, and whether or not I trusted him. And I trusted him. So, you have to ask yourself: Do you trust Bucky?”

You nodded fervently. “With my life,” you said.

“No offense,” Pepper began, “but he’s your teammate. Yes, you trust him with your life, but you could say the same about Thor, or Clint, or even Rhodey. Do you trust him with your heart?”

“I do.” There was no ounce of hesitation in your answer, no pause for consideration. You trusted Bucky implicitly, with every fiber of your body and soul.

“Then you have to hold onto that,” Pepper said. “Like I said, you can’t control what other people are going to do, but you can control how you react to them. If you trust Bucky, then why waste your energy worrying about what someone else might do? Especially if you don’t have any doubts about how Bucky feels about you.”

“I know,” you sighed, “but it just feels like it’s so much easier said than done. Like, I know he loves me, but I’m so scared that one day, he’s going to wake up and realize that I’m just not worth it. That he could do so much better. Or that I’m holding him back. Did you know I’m the first person he slept with since the ‘40s?! What if he decides that he wants more? That, even though he loves me, I’m just not enough to keep him satisfied?”

Pepper exhaled and scooted forward in her chair to be closer to you, taking both your hands in hers. “Honey, I might be biased because you’re essentially my sister-in-law and I love you so much, but you are, by far, more than enough. I know you get caught up in your head, and that all of this relationship business is brand new to you, but you’re extraordinary. Look at everything you’ve overcome and where you’ve gotten yourself. Do you know how many people who have been through what you’ve endured would have just given up? Or settled for so much less?”

You halfheartedly shrugged your shoulders. “If it hadn’t been for Tony, though, I–”

“That’s bullshit and you know it,” Pepper interrupted gently. “Tony just saw what was already inside of you. He saw your drive, your raw talent. He knew you were starting from behind the finish line, and he just provided the resources to help you catch up. If you had been brought up the way you should have been, the way you deserved, with the love and support that parents are supposed to provide, I have no doubt that you would have found yourself here on your own eventually, with or without any assistance from Tony.”

Your throat caught with the weight of Pepper’s words. You held the CEO in the highest esteem, and to hear her speak of you this way filled your heart. “I wish you and Tony had been my real family,” you whispered, hoping to keep the cracks in your voice in check. “I love you both so much.”

Pepper’s face softened. “We might not be your blood family, honey,” she said, her eyes growing glassy with unshed tears, “but never for a minute think we aren’t your real family. You’re the family we chose, just like I hope we’re the family you chose.” You nodded in agreement– they were the family you chose– the entire team was, but Pepper and Tony were special. “I wish you could see what we all see whenever we look at you,” she said.

You swallowed thickly. “I wish I did, too.”

“Can I make an observation?” Pepper asked gently, as though afraid of overstepping. When you nodded, she continued: “Being loved has always been transactional for you. You were never allowed to just be loved for who you were; your sad excuse for a mother and her monster of a boyfriend made you work for it in the most horrible ways imaginable. They gave you less than the bare minimum, and only if they felt you’d earned it from them. That’s no way for a little girl to grow up. And it breaks my heart, because now that you’re surrounded by people who love you for you, and a man who would literally die for you, who sees no other woman than you, you’ve been so conditioned to think that, if you’re not actively working to earn that love, you don’t deserve it. And Pocket, honestly, nothing could be further from the truth. You make all of our lives better just by being in them.”

You looked down at where she still held your hands in hers. God, you wanted to believe her. She made it sound so fucking easy.

As if sensing your hesitation, Pepper went on: “I’m going to make a recommendation,” she said. “I’m making it not just as your friend, but as a sister and your boss, because I think it would be beneficial in all aspects of your life right now. You’re free to do with the recommendation whatever you like; I only ask that you seriously consider it.”

You looked at her, anxiety beginning to course through you as you ran through all the possibilities of what she could possibly have to say. You nodded for her to continue.

“I want you to consider getting yourself back into therapy,” she said, gently squeezing your hand. “We can all tell you how wonderful you are, how worthy of love, until we’re blue in the face, but it’s not going to do any good until you actually believe it.”

You looked down, ashamed to meet her eye. You had been in therapy for years while you were in college and when you first started working for Stark Industries, but you’d prided yourself on your progress and had stopped attending sessions a long time ago.

“I know you’re private when it comes to your past,” Pepper continued, “and that you don’t want anyone thinking less of you or pitying you because of what you’ve been through, but honey, it’s not healthy for you to go on this way. You’re in a whole new phase of your life right now that should be filling you with joy, but you’re unhappy. I’m not saying that to make you feel bad, or to make you feel like you can’t handle it, but don’t you think it would be good to have some help? Maybe you could talk to Tony about accessing his Virtual Therapy program. That way, you’re not divulging your secrets to a real person, but you’re still getting the help you need.”

You looked at her, considering her suggestion. It had a lot of merit, and you wouldn’t have to open up to an actual person, just FRIDAY. And Tony had created it, had trusted it with his own issues, so you knew the system would be secure, and just as good, if not better, than speaking to a human therapist.

“Yeah, okay,” you finally agreed. “I’ll talk to Tony and see what we can set up.”

The relief on Pepper’s face was palpable as she stood, pulling you up so she could embrace you again. “You’re so important to me, Pocket,” she whispered. “To all of us. None of us want to see you trapped in your head. You don’t deserve that.”

“Thanks, Pep,” you said, squeezing her back. “I’m so thankful to have you in my life.”

“I am, too, honey,” Pepper said, stepping back and releasing her hold on you. She brushed away a strand of hair that had fallen into your face. “Anytime you need anything, you know where to find me.”

You nodded, thanked her again, and made your way out of her office. Once back in the hallway, you pulled out your cell phone, dialing Tony’s number.

“Hey, kiddo,” he answered. You could hear the sounds of DUM-E extinguishing something in the background; he was obviously down in his lab, setting something on fire. “What can I do for you?”

“Hey, Boss,” you began, taking a deep breath, “I need to ask a favor…”

Chapter 10: Uneasy

Chapter Text

Your feet pounded the treadmill, sweat dripping down your forehead, breathing heavy. You were approaching the end of your ten-mile run and about to go into your cool-down in the Avengers’ training facility of the Tower. Bucky had left early that morning for a training session with Jade. Between his obligations and your therapy sessions, you were seeing each other less than ever before– and having less sex. Between all the additional training sessions and demands on his time, you’d sometimes be lucky if you got a kiss goodnight from Bucky, let alone getting him to make you come. You tried to convince yourself that wasn’t the end all, be all, but you were left with a plethora of pent-up sexual energy that needed to be released. You'd thought about taking Nat up on her offer for a sparring session, but every time you closed your eyes, all you saw was Bucky in less than family-friendly situations, and you knew if you had any hope of going up against the Black Widow, you needed all of your wits about you, so the treadmill it was. At least this way, you could let your mind wander without getting your ass kicked.

The treadmill slowed itself to a stop and you pulled your earbuds from your ears while you caught your breath. Picking up your hand towel, you wiped at the sweat on your face and took a look around the training room. The space was occupied by SHIELD agents in various states of exercise, but you noticed a small crowd had gathered around one of the sparring mats in the far corner of the room. Curiosity getting the better of you, you grabbed your water bottle and made your way over to see what was going on. People moved aside to let you by, and you heard whispers of "his girlfriend" as they watched you pass, so you knew that, whatever people were gawking at, Bucky had to be at the center of it.

When you reached the front of the crowd, your eyes were immediately drawn to Bucky as he moved slowly around his opponent in a predatory circle, sweatpants riding low and showcasing his Adonis belt, and for a brief moment, you saw yourself on your knees, running your tongue along the defined musculature. You shook your head to clear it of the image. God, you needed his dick. Desperately.

You focused instead on the way his body moved, lithe and graceful on his bare feet, like a lion ready to pounce on its prey. And the prey... Well, fuck. His prey was Jade Carthage, and she looked ready to devour him as they circled each other. They danced like that for a while before she launched herself at him at such a high speed, your eyes could barely track the movement. The crowd around you cheered as she lunged for his midsection, but Bucky managed to side-step her, using her momentum to his advantage. He tapped her on the back of the knees, sending her to the mat, but she was up in an instant, throwing herself onto Bucky's back and wrapping her legs around his midsection and her arms around his neck as she tried to pull him down.

"God, they make sparring look so hot," said a voice to your left. You turned your head and saw two SHIELD agents, a male and female, making commentary on the match before you. "Do you think they're fucking?" the male asked.

"Pfft," the female agent scoffed, "Barnes would never. He's with Stark's CTO. From what I hear, he's absolutely rabid for her." You couldn't help the warm feeling that bubbled in your stomach at the idea of Bucky being rabid for you.

"Yeah, I know, but come on-- there's no way some science nerd is going to compare with her," he said, nodding his head toward Jade, who now had her thighs wrapped around Bucky's head, much to the delight of the crowd, and the warm feeling in your stomach turned into a cold, heavy rock. "I mean, look at her; she's a fucking goddess. She's got the serum, too. I mean, guy like him, think he's going to be satisfied with a normal girl long-term? Nah, give it time; he'll get bored. Vixen's much more his speed. Fifth floor’s already placing bets on when he’ll start doing her on the side."

"Wow," said the female agent, sarcastically, "aren't you the romantic?"

"Just watch them," the male said. "There's something happening there."

The female agent cocked her head and studied Bucky and Jade as they traded blows. "Okay," she conceded, "maybe there's something."

"Maybe you two should mind your own fucking business and not speculate about things you know nothing about," a husky voice said from behind them. You turned to see Natasha, hands on her hips, glaring at the two agents, who, under the former assassin's scrutiny, had the good sense to look ashamed… and a little frightened. "Now, why don't you stop gawking and go do something useful with yourselves, considering, in case you happened to forget, you're on the fucking clock." She narrowed her eyes and tapped her fingers against her hip impatiently as the two muttered apologies before slinking off into the crowd. She watched them go before turning back to you and slipping her arm around your waist. You draped an arm around her back and leaned you head on her shoulder in thanks.

"Don't listen to a word those dumb fucks say," she told you as she watched the sparring match continue to unfold in front of you. "They're just stirring up trouble for shits' sake."

You hummed in agreement, but the seed had been planted, and you were terrified everyone else was seeing something you were being willfully oblivious to. You watched as Bucky and Jade moved, trading blows and blocks in a blur of motion. You knew he didn't have many opportunities to spar with someone on his level, who could keep up with him in strength, skill, and stamina, but there was something about the look in his eye as moved around the space, an excitement, a hunger, that made your stomach feel like it was full of lead. It was a look you knew well-- you saw it every time he pinned you beneath him, whispering sweet, sinful promises into the crook of your neck as he thrust into you and took you beyond reason.

“They’re not blind, though, are they Natty?” you asked, your voice small. As you watched, the sight before you shifted subtly as Bucky reached for Jade, his large hand enclosing around her wrist before twisting swiftly, forcing her arm behind her. He guided her to the ground, his body close against hers as he kept her in place. The interaction was professional, strictly within the limits of their training session. Yet, it unsettled you. You felt a pit of discomfort growing in your stomach as whispers bubbled from the crowd around you.

“You know Barnes better than anyone alive, Pocket,” Nat assured you, squeezing your waist gently. “I’d say even better than Steve at this point; do you honestly think there’s something there?”

You couldn’t answer her, every insecurity you’d had about Jade Carthage bubbling to the surface with a renewed vengeance. Especially now that you’d heard other people giving voice to your deep-seated fears that Bucky was out of your league and it was only a matter of time before he realized that, too, and left you.

Throughout it all, Bucky seemed oblivious to the audience or perhaps he was just too focused on Jade to give them any attention. As he released her and backed away, giving her space to rise, his gaze was trained entirely on her. His eyes were darkened with a serious intensity that stirred something within you, an overwhelming cocktail of fear, jealousy and a raw possessiveness a thousand times stronger than anything you'd felt before.

You fucking hated it.

Jade went on the offensive, swinging out to attempt a roundhouse kick to Bucky's chest, but the super soldier's reflexes were too quick; he grabbed her ankle before she could make contact and threw her off balance. With the grace of a gazelle, Jade used the momentum to spin, crouching low to sweep Bucky's legs out from underneath him. You watched as he fell back to the mat, and quick as lightning, Jade was on top of him, thighs straddling either side of his waist as she held a sparring dagger to his throat. They were both panting heavily from the exertion, but Bucky smiled up at Jade, pride evident on his face.

Sensing that the show was over for now, the crowd began dispersing, almost as if the current moment between the former combatants was too intimate for them to witness, leaving only you and Natasha at the side of the mat. You watched as Jade leaned down to whisper something in Bucky's ear, and he laughed his beautiful, genuine laugh.

The reaction made you squeak in discomfort. It wasn't a loud noise, and no normal person would have heard you from that distance, but Bucky Barnes was no normal man. At the sound, his eyes snapped to where you stood and, to your absolute horror, his face fell. You watched his smile falter as he saw the expression on your face, replaced with something looked alarmingly like guilt.

Jade's dark eyes followed his gaze and when she saw you, she broke into a wide grin, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Don’t get your panties in a twist, (Y/L/N). Just a friendly spar, right Barnes?" She asked, her voice ringing out clear across the room. Bucky nodded, looking stunned and incapable of speech as he continued to meet your gaze.

You watched as she rolled off him, extending the contact of their bodies a little longer than necessary, and extended her hand. Bucky stared at it for a moment before accepting the help and heaving himself off the mat. He shook his head at her, his gaze slowly returning to yours. This was not how you had envisioned your day unfolding.

Natasha squeezed your waist, attempting to offer some comfort, but it wasn't enough to shake off the dark cloud of unease that was settling over you. Ignoring the murmurs of reassurance from Natasha, you pulled away from her and made your way towards Bucky, who was now standing with Jade, both of them looking a little worse for wear after the intense sparring match. Bucky watched your approach with apprehension in his eyes, clearly unsure of what you were going to say or do. Jade smirked at you, her eyes twinkling with amusement, but there was something else behind that smug façade – an insidious satisfaction.

"Barnes," you greeted him, trying to keep your voice steady.

"Sweetheart," he replied, reaching out to touch your arm. You flinched back from the contact and noticed how his expression fell even further.

Jade opened her mouth to speak, but you cut her off with a wave of your hand.

"I need to speak with Bucky. Alone," you said, giving her a pointed look. Jade looked surprised for a moment before she shrugged and walked away, leaving the two of you alone on the edge of the training mat.

Bucky looked like he wanted to say something, opening and closing his mouth a couple of times before just clearing his throat. He ran a hand nervously through his hair, the sheen of sweat on his brow glinting in the overhead lights. His gaze flickered between your face and the floor, savoring every second as if it might be his last.

"I... I,” he stuttered, helplessly. You knew he was lost, unsure of how to navigate the waves of anger and hurt that rolled off you in palpable tides.

You crossed your arms over your chest defensively; your heart thudded painfully against your ribs, threatening to break free from its cage. You wanted to yell, cry, demand to know what was going on between him and Jade... But most of all, you just wanted to reach out and touch him, assure him that everything would be okay.

"Bucky," you finally said, your voice trembling slightly under the weight of your emotions. "What's happening between you two?"

Confusion passed over Bucky's face, "Wha- what do you mean?" he asked, his gaze steady on your eyes.

"You and Carthage," you clarified, hating how your voice hitched at the end of her name. "There's something going on between you two. Something... something more than just sparring partners. I want to know what it is."

His eyes widened slightly, and for a moment he looked genuinely shocked before it was replaced by a dawning comprehension. His shoulders sagged as he sighed deeply, running a hand through his disheveled hair.

"No," He murmured desperately, reaching out to grip your hand. This time, you didn't pull away. Instead, you watched as his thumb traced circles on the back of your hand, as if trying to comfort you. "I promise there's nothing going on between us."

"Then why does everyone who just watched that match think that there is?" you questioned quietly, biting down on your lower lip to stop it from trembling.

Bucky paused for a moment, his gaze shifted from your eyes to the hand he held. His thumb had stopped tracing circles and instead was now holding onto it as if it was the only thing keeping him grounded.

"I might just be her trainer, maybe even her friend, but we get onto that mat, it has to become more than that. Something different." He paused, a look of deep concentration transforming his face as he searched for the right words. "We have to push each other to be better, stronger. Fighting skills determine whether you live or die out there, and that unlocks something in here. Emotions run higher, because you know that every perfected move, every successful hit landed, decreases your chances of coming home in a bodybag. Your partner’s victories are your victories, because the better they are, the better they’ll be at keeping you alive. It makes things seem more intense then they actually are, creates a connection that only exists here” he pointed to the mat, “and in the field." He gave a heavy exhale before his eyes met yours again, a pleading look to them. "She's not you."

A bitter laugh escaped from your lips before you were able to stop it. "No. She's a fucking superhuman goddess and I'm just a boring science nerd."

Bucky moved back as if you'd slapped him. "What-- Where-- Why would you ever say something like that?" He reached for your hands, cupping them in his own.

You couldn't meet his gaze. "People talk, Buck. I'm not the only one who looks at you two out there and sees fucking foreplay. And they're gossiping about it. Fuck, Bucky, people are placing bets on how long it's going to be before you get bored of me and start sleeping with her."

His eyes widened at your words, his grip on your hands tightening. "Who? Who the fuck is saying that? How fucking dare they?!" He looked horrified and angry; a dangerous combination for the likes of Bucky Barnes. As he opened his mouth to respond, you cut him off.

"Only because of how you're acting, Bucky! The chemistry between you two on the mat is undeniable." You tried to pull your hands from his, tried to put some distance between you, but his fingers only tightened around yours. "And even if it's not true...there's a part of me that believes it. Because why would you settle for me when you could have someone who's your equal in every goddamn way?"

Bucky was silent for a few moments, looking at you with such intensity that you felt like he was trying to see into your very soul. Then, just as quickly as it appeared, the intensity disappeared from his face, replaced with a look of utter resolve.

"Then let me make it clear for you," he said, voice low and determined. "I may spar with Vixen. I may laugh with her, talk with her, and yeah, even enjoy her company, as much as you might hate to hear it. But it ends there. I’m her trainer inside the gym and her friend outside of it." He paused, his gaze never leaving yours. "But you, you're something entirely different."

He reached up to gently cup your face, his cool metal hand providing a stark contrast to the heat flushing your cheeks. "You’re my solace in this fucked up, too fast future I found myself in. When I'm with you, I'm not the Winter Soldier or another Avenger. I'm just... Bucky. That’s all I’ve ever wanted to be, and I only get to be him when I’m with you." The earnestness in his voice was nearly enough to make your heart break on the spot.

"Your love is my strength," he continued. "And your faith in me... that's the redemption I’ve been searching for, the amends I’ve spent so long trying to find." His fingers were soft against your skin as he pushed a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "I love you in ways that I can't begin to express. All I care about is you. You, who's never boring, constantly keeping me on my toes with your wit and sense of humor. I love that you’re a science nerd, the most brilliant and beautiful woman I've ever met, inventin’ and creating things no one’s ever even imagined before to make the world a safer place. You, who sees past the metal arm and the nightmares, and loves me for who I am."

His hand moved along your jaw, his thumb softly grazing your cheek. His gaze was intense, filled with so much love and longing that it took your breath away.

"I'm not going anywhere," he said, his voice barely above a whisper as he reiterated the words you’d spoken to him the night he’d confessed his own insecurities to you. "And I'm certainly never getting bored of you. So yeah, Vix may be my occasional sparring partner, but you...you are my life partner, and you’re going to be until the day I die. She’s never going to come close to you."

His words echoed in your ears, shattering the wall of uncertainty within you. Swallowing hard, you met his gaze, trying to find any trace of insincerity or doubt. But all you found was love – raw and beautiful love that rendered you speechless. He took your hands in his again, gently squeezing to emphasize his words.

"Promise?" You asked, your voice trembling with vulnerability.

Bucky gave you a soft, reassuring smile. "I promise. On everything that I am, and everything that I'll ever be," he said with certainty. His grip on your hands tightened, as if to emphasize the truth in his words.

Tears welled in your eyes, blurring your vision. You blinked them away, not wanting to break this moment of connection. His expression was open, vulnerable; it was a sight reserved for you and no one else.

"Just… I just need you to tell me if your feelings ever change," you pleaded, your voice barely a whisper. "I can handle any truth but, if you lie to me, it’ll destroy me."

Bucky's thumb brushed away a tear that had managed to escape from the corner of your eye. "Nothing will change, doll. Not how I feel about you." He then leaned in closer until his forehead gently rested against yours. "You're stuck with me, remember?"

A small laugh bubbled out of you even as more tears spilled down your cheeks. You wrapped your arms around him, allowing yourself to melt in the comfort and warmth of him. "I'm sorry for being so insecure," you murmured into his chest. “Therapy is supposed to be helping me get over this.”

"Hey," he said, tipping his face up to meet his gaze, "there's no need for that. If you can work me through my insecurities about Steve, this is the least I can do for you. Besides, therapy’s a process, not an over-night cure."

His words brought a small smile to your face. The sincerity in his voice was soothing, like the soft lull of the ocean against the sand. "Do you think we're crazy, Bucky? For being like this?"

Bucky chuckled, a low rumble that vibrated through his chest and into yours, "I think we've both been used and hurt, doll. Damaged." He kissed your forehead and you closed your eyes, relishing the feeling of his lips on your skin. "And I think that's made both of us terrified that we're not worthy of being loved the way we deserve. But no, I don't think we're crazy. At least, not about this, anyway."

You huffed out a laugh. "I love you so much," you murmured into the fabric of his shirt. "I don't know what I would do if I lost you. How I would survive."

"You won't lose me, doll," Bucky said, his voice a soothing balm to your fears. "As long as there's breath in my body, I'll always be by your side. I will fight for you, for us."

He pulled back slightly to look at you, his gaze resolute. "And if it ever comes down to it," he added, his words barely above a whisper, "I'll choose you. Over anyone else, over anything else. Always."

There was something in the way he spoke, the conviction in his voice that made your heart flutter in your chest. You believed him. You believed in him. You believed in the both of you, together.

"Promise?" you asked again, needing the confirmation more than you had ever needed anything else.

"I promise," he said instantly, pulling you closer into his embrace.

The warmth of his body against yours was comforting; it felt like home. It was as if all the pieces of your broken past were being put back together; mended by Bucky’s words, his promises, and the unconditional love he held for you. You pressed your face further into his chest, your tears soaking the fabric of his shirt.

"Hey," he said softly, his hand coming up to gently lift your chin so you were looking into his eyes. "Why are you still crying?"

You tried to laugh at yourself through your tears. "Because I'm relieved... and a little overwhelmed."

His thumb brushed away your tears again and then his lips were on yours in a tender kiss that told you without words just how much he cared about you.

As the kiss deepened, it was as if all the chaos of the world simply melted away. It was just the two of you in that moment, connected by not only a kiss but by the beating of two hearts that echoed the same rhythm - a testament to your shared love.

"Alright, you two," came Natasha's voice, finding its way into your bubble, "break it up. While I'm thrilled you're good, this is a training facility, not a lover's lane."

Bucky smiled down at you at Nat's words. "She's right, doll. Besides, I think I owe you a special sparring match of our very own."

You looked at him, an incredulous laugh leaving you. "Buck, I love you, but there's no way in hell I'm going to spar with you; you'll destroy me."

He leaned down to whisper in your ear, so softly you doubted Natasha could hear him. "I was thinking more along the lines of the naked sparring we could do upstairs in your room. Can't promise I won't still destroy you, though," he added with a wink.

"Oh my God," sighed Nat, who apparently could hear him, after all. "You two are disgusting. Get out of here before you start humping in the middle of the floor."

"That is an excellent idea, Natasha," you said, taking one of Bucky's hands in both of yours as you began to walk backward toward the exit, pulling him along. "Let's get out of here, Barnes. See how many times you can pin me before I scream for mercy."

Bucky threw his towel at Nat as he followed you, his gaze locked on you with a hunger that far surpassed the look he had in the ring with Jade. It sent shivers down your spine and set your heart racing.

God, you loved that man. You loved him so much that you were more than willing to ignore the little voice in the back of your head that kept asking "If there was nothing for you to worry about, why had he looked so guilty when he realized you'd been watching them?"

*

Bucky pushed you up against the hard surface of your bedroom door, his lips trailing fire along your skin as he kissed you with an almost animalistic need. You could feel the press of his erection through the fabric of your workout clothing digging into your stomach as you tilted your head back and let out a soft moan.

“Bucky,” you breathed as his hips rutted against you, “we should get inside.”

“Need you so bad, Pocket,” he grunted, fingers finding their way under your shirt and sliding along your already sweat-slicked skin. “Should be getting inside of you.”

“Mmm, clever,” you hummed as you reached behind your bodies for the door handle. You managed to awkwardly twist it open just as Bucky’s hips pressed particularly aggressively, sending you both tumbling through the doorway.

Bucky’s hands were on you before you could fully lose your balance, keeping you upright and supported as he led you both to the couch.

“Bed’s not that far away, Barnes,” you said in between kisses as you began pulling off your clothes.

“Too far away,” he countered, bouncing on one foot as he worked to tug off his sneaker. “You’re lucky I’m too much of a gentleman to take you right on the floor.”

You quirked an eyebrow at that. “Lucky, huh?”

“Remember the rugburn you got last time?” he asked, his smile positively predatory as he gently pushed you backwards onto the cushions, his hands reaching for the waistband of your leggings and pulling them down your legs.

“Touche,” you contended. The memory of your chafed skin certainly had put a damper on the otherwise delightful experience. You might have to talk to Tony about getting some carpet with a little more shag.

You giggled at the thought, causing Bucky to raise a questioning eyebrow as he helped you out of your sports bra.

“I was thinking we might need a better shag carpet for future shagging,” you informed him. His laughter quickly turned into a moan as you reached down into his shorts and took a hold of him, stroking his length.

“Shit, baby,” he groaned as he thrust his hips into your hand. “They didn’t make girls like you back in my day.”

You pulled him free from his bottoms and boxer briefs, taking one hand off of him to push the fabric down. “Thank God for that,” you told him. “You might have been tempted to dodge the draft, otherwise. Then where would we be?”

Bucky grunted, and you knew he wasn’t going to last much longer. “How can you make such horrible jokes and still manage to be so fucking hot?” he asked you with a grin.

You took your hands off of his cock, pretending to be offended. “Horrible?! My handjobs are only for people who think my jokes are funny.”

“Did I say ‘horrible’?” Bucky asked in mock confusion, reaching down to run his metal fingers through your waiting folds. The cold touch made your back arch as he inserted two fingers inside of you. “Coulda sworn I said hilarious.”

“Weak save attempt, Old Man,” you panted as he picked up the tempo with his hand. “Judges– fuck– judges allow it, you can put it in. God, put it in!”

“Gotta get you ready, doll,” Bucky grinned down at you. “Get you good and stretched.”

“I swear to God, Barnes, if you don’t start fucking me right now—” you words were cut off by a scream as Bucky took heed of your warning and pushed himself into you, until he was filling you completely. “Yes!” you shouted, relishing in the feeling of being so consumed by him. “Fuck, so good, Buck!” You began thrusting your hips, begging him to move within you.

“Fuck, sweets.” Bucky’s thrusts were hard and forceful. “Takin’ me so well, all with no prep. Making me so proud, the way you’re grabbin’ me. Feel like fuckin’ heaven!”

You reached your hands around his back, digging your nails into the strong muscles of his ass to pull him closer, as though you wanted to leave no space between your bodies. “So big, Bucky,” you moaned into his ear as you hitched a leg around his waist, allowing him to go deeper. “Never had anyone fill me up as good as you! Was fucking made for this cock.”

Your words drove Bucky feral, and like flipping a switch, his thrusts went into overdrive.

Between the sound of slapping skin and your wanton moans, you barely registered Bucky’s cell phone ringing. You paid it no mind as he pounded into you, completely ignoring it until you felt his pace falter. Looking up, you saw him reach over and grab it from the coffee table.

“Come on, Buck,” you whined, “leave it. I’m sure Steve won't mind waiting a bit.”

Bucky looked from the caller ID to you, a combination of embarrassment and frustration on his face. “It’s Vix,” he said, fingers moving to the screen.

“Ignore it,” you told him, feeling the tide of your impending orgasm slowly slipping back out to sea.

“It might be important,” he said, his voice sounding pathetic to your ears.

“Barnes,” you warned, your voice low and icy.

“It’ll just take one second.” He got up, pulling out of you with a slick sound, and you felt your vagina dry up and board shut, closing for business. He turned his back to you as he accepted the call. You didn’t even bother to listen to his half of the conversation-- nothing she had to say to him was important enough for this, opting instead to get up and go into the bathroom.

Your hands were shaking with rage as you tried several times to lock the door behind you before succeeding. You could not believe your ‘boyfriend’ had just pulled out of you, in the middle of sex, to answer another woman’s phone call. An image of his face from this morning flashed before your eyes as you turned on the shower– the guilt that seemed to cross his features when he had realized you were watching him spar with Jade. You’d been so quick to put it to the back of your mind, to ignore it, but now? After this? God. Was he thinking about her while he was inside of you? You turned the heat of the water up as far as it would go and grabbed your loofah, preparing to scrub the disgust you felt from your skin.

No. You heard Pepper’s words echo in your head– you can’t control what other people do, you can only control your response to them. And you were not going to fall into your old habits over this. You turned the heat down to a tolerable level and lathered your loofah with soap, needing to (gently, you reminded yourself) cleanse your body of the sweat, sex, and shame.

As you were rinsing the soap from your body, you heard a pounding on the bathroom door. “Doll?” Bucky’s voice was muffled through the wood. “Doll, what’s wrong? Why is the door locked? If I knew you wanted a shower, I would have joined you.”

Was he fucking serious right now? You took your sweet time, not answering him as you finished your shower, toweling yourself off before you wrapped yourself in your robe.

With a resigned sigh, you opened the door back into your bedroom, half expecting to find Bucky gone, perhaps to have Jade take care of erection she’d prevented you from finishing off. But he was sitting on the edge of your bed, his boxer briefs back on and elbows resting on his knees. He looked up when he heard the door open.

“Hey,” he said, standing and making his way toward you. “Sorry about the interruption. Vix just had some questions about the training schedule for the rest of the week. But that’s all squared away, so we can get back to it.”

You crossed your arms over your chest and glared at him. “You can’t seriously think that I want to have sex with you right now,” you said. Your voice was hard and impassive.

“What?” Bucky looked genuinely confused. “Why not?”

You walked over to your dresser and pulled out a fresh pair of panties and leggings. With your back to him, you shimmied into them under your robe. “Call me crazy, but I kinda consider you stopping mid-thurst to take a call from another woman, my fucking nemesis, of all people, to be a bit of a mood killer.”

You heard Bucky sigh behind you, and you could just imagine him running his hand through his hair. “Pocket,” he said, “come on. Don’t be so dramatic. It wasn’t that big of a deal.”

Your entire body stiffened at his words. Turning around slowly, you gaped at him. “Excuse me?”

Bucky held his hands palms-out, as if to indicate he wasn’t a threat to you. “You’re blowing this out of proportion. I was just taking a phone call.”

It took every ounce of control you had within you to not explode on him. You closed your eyes and took one, two, three deep breaths that did nothing to calm you. “You took a phone call,” you said, “in the middle of sex. With a girl who has been a problem between us since the moment she showed up. How do you not get that that is not okay? At fucking all?”

“God, I thought therapy was supposed to help fix your problem,” he said, “not make it worse.”

You blanched at that. “My problem?”

“Yes, your problem,” he said, voice rising. “I haven’t done anything wrong, but you keep trying to paint me out to be the bad guy. You make me feel like a fucking cheater when I’ve never even touched her.”

“You don’t need to touch her to be having an emotional affair with her, Barnes,” you said, voice quiet.

“An emotional affair?” he barked out a laugh. “We’re just friends.”

“Just friends?” you asked, incredulous. “I’m ‘just friends’ with Steve. Should I take a call from him when I’ve got your dick inside of me?” You watched in real time as Bucky’s expression darkened. You hated using his insecurities about Steve to make a point, but he was leaving you no other choice. You didn’t know how else to make him understand why he was hurting you so badly.

“That’s completely different,” he said through clenched teeth.

You raised your chin. “It’s not different, at all, and you know it. If I stopped having sex with you to take a call from Steve, you would be livid. And honestly, I’m so disappointed in you for pretending like it’s not the same! That’s so disingenuous, Bucky.”

Bucky tilted his head back and sighed. “I feel like we’re going around in circles here, Pocket,” he said, voice heavy. “You keep getting upset, and I keep trying to reassure you, but it’s like you want there to be something going on between her and I.”

“I keep getting upset because you have no fucking concept of appropriate boundaries, Bucky!” you shouted at him. You startled yourself– you’d hardly ever raised your voice at him in anger. From the look on his face, it had taken him aback, too. “I shouldn’t have to be constantly telling you that your interactions with her are inappropriate for a guy in a monogamous relationship! It’s fucking exhausting, but every time I think we’ve made progress, you turn around and do something that makes me feel even worse!”

“Well, if I’m so fucking exhausting, then why are you even still with me?” he shouted back at you.

You stared at him, eyes wide. Was this it? Was this where he left you for Jade? Had you finally pushed him too far?

But his face immediately fell as he realized what he had just said. “Hell. Doll, I didn’t mean that. I’m sorry. I just… I don’t know what to do to make you feel better.” He took a step toward you, opening his arms, and you let him embrace you, though you didn’t hold him back. “I don’t know how to convince you that there’s nothing between her and I.”

You looked up at him. “Think of Steve,” you said. He narrowed his eyes as he looked down at you. “What I mean is,” you continued, “when you’re about to do something with Jade, ask yourself if you would be comfortable with me doing that with Steve, knowing how he feels about me. But instead of Steve being your best friend, imagine that he was actively trying to break us up. Like, would you be cool with me and Steve going off and forgetting about you in Central Park? Or would you be happy watching Steve sit on top of me during a sparring session while you listened to agents talk about it's just a matter of time before we start fucking?” You could tell by the way his arms tense around you that the very thought angered him. “Or if I decided that it was so important that I take a call from Steve that I just stopped having sex with you, even after you told me to ignore it. Don’t tell me none of that wouldn’t make you feel like absolute shit.”

Bucky blew out a breath and pressed his lips to the crown of your head. “You’re right,” he said sadly. “That would drive me insane. I’ll work on it. I’ll… I’ll try to think of Steve.”

You sighed. “I need you to do more than try, Buck,” you told him. “I need you to do it. Cause this, the way things are right now? It’s killing me.”

The look Bucky gave you then was enough to break your heart. You knew, you truly knew he wasn’t doing any of this on purpose, but he couldn’t keep falling back on his cluelessness as an excuse. Not anymore. Not when it was destroying you.

“Mne ochen' zhal', moya lyubov'.” I’m so sorry, my love. “I will do it.”

“Thank you,” you whispered, wrapping your arms around him and squeezing him. You were relieved that he was finally, hopefully, seeing where you were coming from, but at the same time, you couldn’t help but wonder how many more times he was going to put you through this. “I love you,” you said into his bare chest.

“I love you, too,” he replied. After a beat, he said: “So, I guess sex is off the table for this afternoon?”

You chuffed at that, then looked back up at him. “Seriously?" you asked, giving him a look. "Obviously, for now; don’t be stupid,” you said. “That doesn’t mean I can’t be persuaded to revisit the possibility later.”

Bucky smiled down at you. “I can work with that,” he said. “How about a movie, instead? I’ll take a shower, you grab some snacks from the kitchen, and we can watch whatever you want.”

“Mmm,” you said, feeling hopeful. “You will regret giving me that power, Barnes.”

*

While Bucky took his shower, you threw on one of his Henleys and made your way to the communal kitchen to grab some snacks for your film. To your disdain, Jade was already there, pouring herself a glass of juice.

“Trouble in paradise?” she asked with a smirk as she put the juice back in the fridge. “I didn’t mean to overhear, but you and Jamie were just arguing so loudly.”

“We’re fine,” you said. You grabbed a couple of bags of chips, some Twizzlers, chocolate, and some drinks. “But thank you so much for your apparent concern.”

“Didn’t sound fine to me,” she beamed. “You forget, I have super soldier hearing. Maybe you should consider getting a new therapist, since the one you’re seeing now clearly isn’t helping. I’m heading back to my room, but don’t feel the need to keep the fighting down on my account, ‘kay? It’s better than Netflix!” With a wink, she turned and walked out the door, juice in hand.

In your anger, you were gripping one of the bags of chips so tightly, it popped open in your hand. Coming to a quick and, probably stupid decision, you grabbed your snacks and raced back to your room.

Bucky was just coming out of the bathroom, with only a towel around his waist, when you burst through the door, tossing the snacks and drinks onto your nightstand.

“Ready for the movie now, doll?” he asked, toweling off his damp hair.

“Changed my mind,” you said as you started taking off your clothes. “Sex is back on the table.”

Bucky grinned at you, but his face quickly fell. “Are you sure, sweets? What changed all of a sudden?”

You pulled the towel from around his waist, licking your lips as his cock sprung free, already growing hard in front of you. “Just something I heard,” you told him before pouncing on him. “I’m gonna need you to make me scream, Barnes.”

“It’ll be my pleasure, doll,” he said before hoisting you up and kissing you.

You knew you were being petty, and it was not a great quality, but you didn’t care: you were going to make sure Jade Carthage heard every. single. filthy. fucking. thing.

Chapter 11: Unsure

Chapter Text

Over the next few weeks, things between you and Bucky were technically better, in the sense that you hadn’t argued again, and he didn’t mention Jade to you, or answer her calls or texts in your presence, but they were so much worse in that she was taking up more of his time than ever before, and you saw each other less and less. You tried to rationalize it by telling yourself that the amount of time the two of you had spent together at the beginning of your relationship had been abnormal– nearly constant– and that the current situation was more on par with what regular couples experienced, but the truth of the matter was that you felt yourself pulling away from him, building a wall around your heart to protect yourself from what you saw as the inevitable heartache Bucky was going to inflict upon you.

He’d been right– you had been going around in circles, and every time you thought you’d made some progress, another event would transpire that would just end up leaving you feeling worse. Yes, he always had the sweetest words to say to you to bring you down from your anger, but at what point did they go from being the actual truth to just being something said just to placate you? More and more, you found yourself questioning the difference between the two, and as a result, your walls were going back up with a vengeance.

If he noticed, though, he didn’t say anything. He was preoccupied with preparing Jade for her first mission. She’d be going off to Malaysia with Sam and Rhodey (you may have begged Tony to ensure she was never partnered with either you or Bucky, and bless that man and his affection for you, he’d been more than willing to comply), and Bucky was working overtime to make sure she was ready.

And perhaps a small part of you was hoping she’d go MIA in the jungle. Not that you’d ever admit it out loud to anyone but FRIDAY.

The day before she was scheduled to depart, you were lounging on your couch, working on your laptop. Your crisis prediction algorithm project was finally ready, and you were putting the finishing touches on the presentation you were scheduled to give to the board in less than two weeks time. You were just adding some graphics when Bucky came in the door.

“You haven’t started getting ready yet?” he asked, kissing the crown of your head by way of greeting. He looked exceptionally handsome in a pair of tight black jeans and black button-up with the sleeves rolled to his elbows.

You looked up at him in confusion. “Ready for what?” you asked, taking off your glasses and rubbing the bridge of your nose.

“Gino’s,” he said, as if that would clear it up. At your blank look, he prompted: “Vix’s first mission is tomorrow. We’re all going down to Gino’s for drinks. Come on, Pocket. I told you about this days ago.”

You scoffed at him. “You most certainly did not. I would have remembered because I would have laughed at you and said ‘hard pass.’”

Bucky rubbed his eyes. “Okay, maybe it slipped my mind, and I’m sorry for that, but you should have known. It’s tradition.”

“Tradition?” you asked him, surprised to find that the anger you had expected to feel, that you should have felt, just wasn’t coming. Instead, you were just sad . “There’s no tradition.”

“What are you talking about? We all went before my first mission.”

You closed your laptop and put it down on the coffee table before standing up to face him with a sigh. “Buck, that was something I did, just for you, because I wanted to. Because you were my best friend. I wanted you to have a night of fun before you went out, because I didn’t know what sort of shit you were going to see, or have to do, on that mission. I wanted to give you something good to hold on to.”

Bucky’s face softened at your words and he embraced you, holding you close. “God,” he said, rubbing his nose into your hair, “I had no idea. I’m the fucking luckiest man alive, you know that? To have a girl as special as you care so much about me. You’re more than I deserve, doll.”

A tiny voice in the back of your mind couldn’t help but think Maybe I am. You crushed the thought as soon as it came. You loved him, you truly did. He just… frustrated you a lot recently. Jade’s probationary period was almost over, and you were hopeful that she wouldn’t get the votes to stay in. You knew that, despite the initial warm reception she’d received, she’d ended up rubbing almost everyone the wrong way with her attitude. You’d even heard Sam and Clint complaining about Jade refusing to participate when it was her turn for training room clean-up because ‘shouldn’t Stark have people for that?’.

It seemed like everyone was finally seeing what kind of person she really was. Well, everyone except for Bucky, anyway.

“So,” he said after a moment, “you gonna come?”

You thought about it for a second. A part of you was completely against the idea, not wanting the gesture you’d made for Bucky all those months ago to be tainted knowing he was making it now for her , but the prevailing part of you wasn’t about to offer Jade the opportunity of a night of drinking with Bucky, outside of your presence, on a silver platter. It concerned you that you were more motivated by thwarting any designs Jade might have than you were with spending time with your boyfriend, though. You tried to push your petty thoughts aside.

“Yeah,” you said, looking up into his eyes and allowing yourself to fall into them. God, they were beautiful. He was beautiful, inside and out. You needed to keep reminding yourself of that, of all the reasons you fell in love with him in the first place, and there were so, so many. “How much time do I have?” you asked.

Bucky pulled out his phone and glanced at the time. “About fifteen minutes,” he said.as

“Fifteen minutes!” you shrieked, pulling away from him and heading over to your vanity. “Jesus, Buck! Give a girl some warning! It’s gonna take me twice that long just to do my hair and makeup!” You began pulling out all the accouterments you were going to need to prepare yourself.

Bucky came to stand behind you, wrapping his hands around your waist as he looked at you in the mirror. “You don’t need any of that stuff, doll,” he said, kissing your cheek. “You’re already going to be the sexiest girl there, but I’m not gonna complain about sitting around if you want to get even sexier.”

You smiled at Bucky through the mirror, and it felt like the first genuine smile you’d given him in ages. “That’s sweet of you, baby,” you said as you started putting on your moisturizer, “but I don’t want to make you late on my account.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing you for any trace of annoyance or anger in your words. Not finding any, he asked: “Are you sure, sweets? I don’t mind waiting for you.”

You nodded, moving on to fill in your eyebrows. “It’s fine, Buck. Go. I’ll meet up with you as soon as I’m ready.”

He lingered for several long moments, watching as you continued your makeup routine. You noticed him staring and paused contouring to turn to him. “What?” you asked with a small smile, expecting him to make some kind of comment about modern girls and all their makeup.

“Nothing,” he said, though there was a hint of sadness in his gaze. “You just seem… different, that’s all.”

You laughed. “You’ve seen me contour my face plenty of times, Buck. I swear, it’ll look great once I blend it out.”

“No,” he said with a shake of his head, “that’s not what I meant. You just seem… never mind, it’s nothing.”

Shit . He could feel the distance you’d been building between the two of you. You didn’t want it to be there; you truly didn’t. You simply didn’t know how else to protect yourself. Closing yourself off had been your tried and true defense mechanism since you were eleven years old.

Making a vow to yourself to get back to where you once were, back to him , you turned around, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Hey,” you said, kissing him softly, “I love you. So much.” You needed to reassure him, to reassure both of you, of the truth of it.

“Love you, too, sweets,” he said warmly, not letting go of you. You let him hold you, relishing in the feel of him in a way you hadn’t let yourself experience in a bit. Unfortunately, the moment was interrupted by the buzzing of his phone, indicating he had a text. You pulled away and turned back to the mirror.

“What’s Jade need now?” you asked, feeling the wall building itself back up. There was no anger in your voice, just a kind of resigned acceptance. You glanced up from blending your contour as Bucky checked the screen, a look of annoyance crossing his face as he read her text.

“She wants to know if I can drive her to Gino’s on my bike,” he said. The way he looked back at you in the mirror almost made you feel ill, as though he were preparing for you to blow up at him. You felt the walls go higher around your heart.

“Well, you better head out then,” you said, focusing on your makeup. “Don’t want her being late for her own party.”

Bucky opened his mouth and then closed it again, as though not sure how to respond to you. Eventually, he said “It’s fine. Tony’s providing cars; she can hitch a ride with everyone else.”

“And deprive her the opportunity to wrap her arms around you?” you laughed. “Come on, Buck, you’re supposed to be giving her a night of good memories here. Don’t disappoint the girl.”

His brow furrowed at your words. In a single step, he was beside you, taking the contouring brush from your hand and turning your shoulders so you were facing him. “Pocket,” he said, licking his lips, “are we… are we okay?”

You shrugged nonchalantly. “Of course,” you said, taking the brush back from him and moving on to your bronzer and blush. “Why wouldn’t we be okay?”

“You’re just… you seem to be awfully relaxed about the idea of her being on the back of my bike.”

You arched a brow and looked over at him. “Should I not be?” you asked. “Is there a reason for me to be bothered by it?”

Bucky spluttered. “No! Of course not! It’s just…”

“Then I don’t understand what the problem is, Bucky,” you said, getting back to work on your face. His phone buzzed again. “You better go. Sounds like your ‘work wife’ is getting impatient.”

“My work wife? Doll, I don’t… I can’t…” he stammered, at a loss for words.

“Buck,” you said, patting his arm before applying your lip gloss, “it’s fine. Go give Jade a ride. I don’t care, honestly.”

“You… don’t care?” he asked slowly.

“Nope,” you popped the ‘p’ with your lips. “I really don’t.”

Bucky muttered his goodbyes, promising to see you at the party. As soon as he closed the door behind him, you closed your eyes, gripping the backrest of your vanity chair until your knuckles were white, your fingernails digging crescents into the palms of your hands.

You might have been able to lie to Bucky, but you couldn’t lie to yourself. You did care. You still cared very, very much.

*

About forty minutes later, you walked into Gino’s looking like sin on legs. You’d made up your mind that you were going to stake your claim on your boyfriend tonight, in front of Jade and the entire team, but especially Bucky, once and for all. You were a little dizzy from the emotional whiplash you’d been putting yourself through of late, but you’d realized he was worth the chance of being hurt, and you loved him too much to not fight tooth and nail for him, and you would do so, until he told you himself that he didn’t want you anymore.

You’d chosen a pair of skin tight black leather pants that sat low on your hips and a sheer golden top with a matching satin cami underneath it. You’d left your bra at home. A pair of high, strappy gold stiletto heels completed the look, and with your hair flowing loose and curly down your back, you caught the attention of every man within line of sight as you made your way to the back of the bar.

“Jesus Christ, Pocket,” Nat said once you reached the tables at the back that your team usually secured for themselves. The redhead pulled you in for a hug, whispering in your ear as she did so: “Barnes isn’t going to be able to control himself when he sees you.”

“That’s the idea, Natty,” you said with a grin, taking the shot she offered you and throwing it back. “I’m playing for keeps tonight.”

Your friend smiled at you and motioned toward the jukebox. “Then I say ‘batter up’ because opposing teams’ already taken the field.”

You glanced in the direction she’d indicated and narrowed your eyes. Jade was dancing with Bucky. Or, at least, she was trying to dance with him. It was almost comical, really, the way she tried to grind up against him, yet he kept trying to put space between their bodies as he shuffled awkwardly from side to side. Your heart softened as you watched him resist her. He was being polite about it– of course he was, he was Bucky, after all, but his resistance was firm.

“I better go save him,” you told Nat as you put down the shot glass. “I’ll see you later.” You sauntered over to the makeshift dance floor, putting some extra sway in your hips as you did so.

“Mind if I cut in?” you asked, your voice extra sultry. Not even waiting for a response, you positioned your body between Jade and Bucky’s, and were immediately rewarded with the feeling of his hands gripping your waist as he tugged you to him.

“God damn, doll,” Bucky said as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing your body against his, “how’d you expect me to behave myself all night when you’re standin’ there lookin’ good enough to fuckin’ eat?”

You grinned up at him, toying with the hair at the nape of his neck. “I don’t expect you to behave at all, Sergeant,” you purred. “In fact, I’m quite hoping you won’t.”

Bucky’s eyes visibly darkened at your words, and he took his bottom lip seductively between his teeth. You were both leaning in for a kiss when you felt an impatient tap on your shoulder. You knew without turning who it was going to be.

With a roll of your eyes, you turned your head just enough to see Jade standing next to you, arms crossed over her chest, the anger on her face making her uglier than you’d ever seen her.

“Um, hello? Rude much? We were dancing.”

“Is that what that was?” you asked, turning so you had your back to Bucky’s front. You could feel the hard length of him pressed against your ass as you ground into him in time with the music. Taking his hands, you slid them under the fabric of your shirt so he could caress your bare skin. His rough fingers felt like heaven as they moved up and down the planes of your abdomen, dancing scandalously close to the underside of your breasts. You felt Bucky’s breath hitch when he realized you weren’t wearing a bra.

“If you’re that mad, why don’t you go live stream about it?” you said. “The adults are busy.”

“Bucky!” Jade whined, turning to him. “Are you going to just let her talk to me that way?!”

Your heart seemed to still, and it felt like time stopped while you waited on Bucky’s response, though in actuality, he answered her almost instantly: “You heard my girl, Vix. We’re busy.”

You closed your eyes, leaning your head back against him. His dismissal of her was like an aphrodisiac that sent wetness pooling into your panties. The sexiest thing you’d ever heard. With this new access to the exposed side of your neck, Bucky began to place wet, open mouthed kisses along your skin. God, you hoped he left marks. You wanted him to claim you, to let the world know you were his. You moaned his name as you reached your arm up to hold the side of his head, urging him to use more pressure and were rewarded almost immediately when you felt the sweet sting of his teeth as he nipped at the sensitive flesh of your skin, followed by the instant soothing sensation of his tongue against the love bites.

You heard Jade scoff, but didn’t open your eyes to see if she walked away or remained; you were too absorbed in the sensation of Bucky all around you for her to matter. You lost yourself in the feel of him, no concept of how much time went by as the two of you moved together to the beat of the music.

He eventually turned you around so you were facing each other once again. You tried to slide your hands up under the hem of his shirt, to feel the firmness of him, but gave an exaggerated pout when you were met with the resistance of it being tucked into the waistband of his jeans.

“You tryin’ to undress me right here, sweets?” he asked, giving you a playful grin.

“Don’t give me any ideas, Buckaroo,” you hummed, opting instead to grab two generous handfuls of his ass. You were going to sink your teeth into that later.

“You know,” he said, leaning in close to speak directly into your ear, “I’ve been thinking: now that Vix’s gonna be out on missions, my schedule’s gonna clear up a lot. Maybe we should take that trip we talked about. Spend some time alone, just the two of us, like we used to. I miss you.”

Your face fell. You’d love nothing more than to reconnect with Bucky, away from all outside influences, but with the upcoming presentation of the crisis algorithm system looming before you, the timing couldn’t be any worse. “I can’t, Buck,” you told him sadly.

He pulled back, away from you, a new, hard glint to his eye. “Can’t,” he asked, “or won’t?”

“Come on, Buck,” you pleaded, trying to put his arms back around you, but he refused, stepping further away, “we were having a great time; I don’t want to fight.”

“Were we having a great time, Pocket?” he asked, his teeth now clenched. “I may be old, but I’m not stupid. I know you’re pulling away from me.”

You sighed. It seems like you were going to have this out right here in the bar. “Come with me,” you said, taking his hand and leading him toward the bathrooms.

As you passed the rest of your team, an obviously inebriated Sam raised his beer glass and winked at you both. “Yeah, get it, Tin Man!” he shouted, completely misconstruing the purpose of your journey to the bathroom as Bucky flipped him off. “Didn’t realize you liked it that dirty, Baby Girl!” You rolled your eyes, ignoring him as you made your way to the men’s bathroom. Checking to make sure each stall and urinal was empty, you locked the door behind you.

Bucky raised a brow at your choice of gendered bathroom. “What?” you shrugged. “Figure dudes’ll be more than willing to have pissing contests in the alley if they can’t get in here.”

You could see him struggle to fight the smile that threatened to cross his otherwise annoyed features. You always did know how to make him laugh.

“I’m not going to have sex with you,” he said, sounding petulant.

“For once, that’s not why I dragged you into a bathroom,” you said, hoisting yourself up onto the sink counter once you’d checked it to make sure it was free from… well, whatever one might find in a men’s restroom. “I want to talk. Come here.” You beckoned him over with a crook of your finger, and like a fish on a hook, he crossed the room until he was standing in front of you.

You sighed. You didn’t want to do this now, but you were tired of lying to him, lying to yourself. You wanted your relationship back, and now was just as good a time as any to set things straight. “I wanna start by saying that the reason I can’t go away on vacation with you right now,” you said, making sure to emphasize the words, “is that I’m presenting to the Stark Industries Board of Directors in less than two weeks. I still have a lot to do to get ready.

Bucky tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. “For your crisis prediction algorithm?” You nodded. Bucky’s eyes widened, impressed. “Doll, that’s amazing! But… I thought you said it was nowhere near being ready for demonstration?”

You swallowed. “We’ve been beta testing for awhile now,” you said, not meeting his eye. Normally, Bucky was obsessed with your work, keeping track of every fascinating detail, but with Jade monopolizing so much of his time recently, he’d stopped asking how things with your pet project were coming along. But you didn’t bring him here to make him feel bad.

“I haven’t been paying enough attention to you,” he said softly. He reached out and held your face, tilting your head up so you would look at him.

You shrugged your shoulders. “You’ve been busy,” you told him.

“I’ve been an ass,” he said. He took a deep sigh before coming closer, wrapping you to him. “I keep being an ass, and I keep hurting you, when I swore I never would.”

“I know you don’t mean to,” you reassured him. “But, you were right… I have been… pulling away.”

Bucky backed up to study you, his face gone white with worry. “Are you… Do you… Have I fucked this up completely? Do you not want me anymore?” If you had been standing, the desperation in his voice would have brought you to your knees.

“Baby, no!” you exclaimed, pulling his hand to your chest. “I did it because I was scared. I’m so scared I’m going to get my heart broken in all of this that I started putting my walls back up. I thought that, if I could act like your friendship with Jade didn’t bother me, didn’t drive me crazy with jealousy, then maybe I would eventually believe it. But all it ended up doing was push me away from you, and that’s not what I want. I want to fight for you. Fight for us.”

“Is that what this is, then?” he asked, indicating your outfit, hair, and makeup. “Is this some kind of offensive strategy in your battle against Vix where I’m, what– a prize?” He seemed… disgusted by the idea.

“No!” The word was out of your mouth before you even had a chance to think. “Not at all. I did all this because I wanted to look good for you. I know I’m never going to compete with her in terms of sexiness; I wouldn’t even try.”

“Huh,” said Bucky, running his hand through your hair. “And all this time I thought you were the smart one.” When you looked at him in confusion, he added: “Because that was the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard. Doll, when it comes to sexy, she doesn’t hold a candle to you. No one does.”

“Pfft,” you scoffed, turning your face away from him in embarrassment as color stained your cheeks. “You have to say that because you’re my boyfriend.”

“Sweetheart,” Bucky took a step closer to you, “I have to be your boyfriend because that’s how I feel. If this,” he took your hand in his and placed it over the hard bulge of his erection, “doesn’t prove that to you, I don’t know what will.”

You took a moment to palm him through his jeans, remembering back to a time when you relished the effect you had over him, not doubting it. “Are we good?” you whispered.

“We are very, very good,” he said, leaning down to kiss you. You gripped onto the front of his shirt, slipping your tongue into his mouth. When he moaned into your lips, you felt yourself clench around nothing.

“Bucky,” you gasped, coming back up for air.

“Yeah, doll?” His eyes were blown, expression delirious with his lust for you. It was intoxicating.

“You still opposed to bathroom sex?”

Bucky threw his head back and laughed, igniting even more desire within you. “I’m not, but I’d rather take you home, lay you out naked on our bed, all open and pretty for me. Let you be as loud as you want when I make you scream my name.

Your entire body shivered at the picture his words painted, and you nodded stupidly. “Yeah,” you said, swallowing thickly , “yeah, that sounds way better. Let’s go do that.”

Bucky picked you up from the counter and gently placed you back on the floor. Putting his hand protectively on the small of your back, he led you to the door, unlocking it and walking you back into the bar.

When you made your way back to your group’s designated tables, you were surprised to find everyone staring at you in anticipation. Tony stood in the center of the group, a wide smile on his face as he raised his arms wide open, tumbler of alcohol in his hand. “Pocket, Barnes!” he cried when he saw you emerge from the hallway leading to the restrooms. “The people demand to know! ‘What the ‘F’ Was It’?”

You buried your face into Bucky’s side to hide your laughter. Once again, your sex life had become the topic of group conversation. When had this become your normal?

“I think the ‘fucks’ have it!” Tony declared after taking in your smudged lipstick and messy hair. You watched in mock horror as Nat and Sam gave each other a double high five.

“Why do we put up with this?” you muttered to Bucky.

“Stark’s superior insurance coverage?” he suggested with a grin. You smirked back up at him before turning back to your friends.

“Sorry to disappoint, again,” you said, raising your voice to be heard over the din of the bar. “We did neither fucking nor fighting, so…” You shrugged your shoulders.

“Don’t tell me I missed out by not going with frottage again,” Nat moaned dejectedly. You laughed as you shook your head.

“Very well,” said Thor. “It was not fornication, nor this frottage, nor fighting– sorry, little Fox Girl.” You raised an eyebrow as your gaze found Jade, who looked particularly put out, much to your amusement. “Let us guess!”

Your friends began shouting out answers, and they ranged from the vulgar (“‘Finger banging’!” “Oh my God, Tony! Gross!”) to the inappropriate (“‘Fertilization,’ you know, like puttin’ a baby in her!” “Clint, how’s he gonna do that without ‘fucking’?!”) to the perfectly tame (“‘Fraternization.’” “Boo, Rogers; you’re no fun!”) to, thankfully, nothing at all (“I hate this game.” “Nobody asked you, Rhodes!”).

“Frenchin’!” Bucky shouted after a moment with a snap of his fingers. Everyone turned and stared at him like he’d just grown a second head. “What?” he asked as a blush crept up his cheeks. “We talked, then we made out. Just took me a minute to think of ‘French kissin’, is all,” he finished in a mumble.

“And with that,” you said, walking over to the booth where Bucky had stashed his two motorcycle helmets, “we are going home. Make of that whatever the ‘F’ you will.” Tony positively cackled at that.

“That’s my girl!” he gasped, clutching his sides.

You didn’t even try to suppress your grin as you tossed one of the helmets to Bucky. Tucking the other one under your arm, you made your way over to him. “Ready to go, soldier?” you asked.

“With you?” he said, putting a hand around your waist and giving you a mischievous wink. “Always.”

Before you could even make it three steps toward the door, your path was blocked by Jade, who stood before you, chest heaving and fists clenched at her sides. “Hey,” she said, clearly upset, “what about me?!”

You took a step back, curious to see how Bucky was going to handle the situation.

He sighed heavily. “What about you, Vix?”

“You drove me here! How am I supposed to get home if you’re driving her?”

“Stark hired cars,” he told her, trying to steer you both around her, but the girl wouldn’t give up her ground. “Get a ride with everyone else.”

“But I wanna ride back with you,” she said, her voice a desperate whine that made you cringe internally. God, how had you been so jealous of someone who acted like such a child?

He just shrugged in her general direction as he finally guided you both around her. “Sorry, Vix; not this time.”

You couldn’t resist turning around to give her a parting smile as you walked out the door. When you turned around to follow Bucky, though, you could feel Jade’s stare boring a hole through your back.

Chapter 12: Unlucky

Chapter Text

With Jade away in Malaysia, things between you and Bucky finally felt like they were going back to normal. Yes, you had your hands full making final preparations for your board presentation, but Bucky was constantly by your side, bringing you lunch, cheering you on, making sure you took enough breaks and ending your workday at an appropriate time so you weren’t wearing yourself too thin.

And the sex? Yeah, that was right back on track.

Before you knew it, the day of your presentation had arrived. You were a nervous wreck. In the lab, you were confident, willing to take chances, assert your authority with ease and confidence, but presenting in front of a group of stuffy, predominantly middle-aged, white men? All of that went right out the window.

“You’ve got this, sweets,” Bucky said as you both stood outside the board room.

“What if they hate it, Buck?” you murmured, trying to stop your hands from shaking. “What if the presentation’s terrible?”

“Hey,” he said, putting his hands on your shoulders to hold you still, “I have more faith in you than I’ve ever had in anyone. You’ve worked so hard on this, and you know it works. It’s gonna save so many lives. You’ve practiced this presentation inside and out; I bet you could do it in your sleep. I’m so fucking proud of you, doll.”

You managed a weak smile. “Do you want me to come in with you?” he asked gently. “That way, you get nervous with all those stodgy old men in front of you, you can just look at this old man and pretend it’s just you and me. Just like we’re practicing up in our room.”

You nodded eagerly. “Yes! Oh god, yes, please! Thank you so much, Buck.” You kissed him quickly on the lips, the idea of being able to stare into his ocean-blue eyes as you went through your presentation instantly calming you and filling you with a sense of security. “I love you.”

He chuckled and squeezed your shoulders. “I love you, too, doll. And this is the least I can do for you, after everything you’ve done for me.”

The door to the board room opened before you could say more to one another. A secretary smiled when she saw you. “Ms. (Y/L/N),” she said, “they’re ready for you now.”

You took a deep breath. “Here we go,” you said before taking Bucky’s hand and walking inside.

*

To your absolute delight, and no surprise to Bucky, the presentation went off without a hitch. The board was impressed with the level of detail you’d put into your work, and the extensive data you had to show from your months of trials. You’d managed to succinctly answer every question they brought up concerning protecting civilian privacy, system security, and cost/benefit analysis to their satisfaction.

When the time came for the board to vote, you held your breath, squeezing Bucky’s hand under the table as each member called out their ‘yay’ or ‘nay.’ When it was all said and done, the overwhelming majority had voted for Stark Industries to fund the implementation of the crisis prediction algorithm system, tentatively now called C-PAS, with the only votes against being concerned about cost, and not the benefits or merits of it. You couldn’t have been happier.

In celebration, Tony and Pepper took you and Bucky out to dinner at one of the most exclusive rooftop restaurants in the city. Now, as the Stark Industries’ CTO, you were definitely not hard up for money, by any stretch of the imagination, but the atmosphere around you was beyond anything you’d normally immerse yourself in.

“Here’s to our girl!” Tony exclaimed, raising a glass of 1998 Rosé Dom Pérignon. You blushed as Bucky and Pepper raised their glasses in your honor before you all took a sip. “I’m so proud of you, Pocket. I couldn’t be prouder if I had done it myself, so you know that’s saying something.”

You laughed at that. “Thank you, Boss,” you said, raising your glass to him. “That is truly a rare compliment, coming from you.”

“Don’t mention it, kiddo. Can’t think of a single person more deserving of the success than you.”

You ducked your face, trying to hide the flush of pride and embarrassment that was now coloring your cheeks. No matter your accomplishments, you would never become accustomed to being acknowledged for doing something well.

Bucky grabbed your hand and gave it a gentle squeeze before bringing it to his lips. “He’s right, sweets. You’ve worked so hard for this, and you deserve to be celebrated for it. Not that often Stark and I can whole-heartedly agree on something, but we’re of like minds on that.”

You hid your face in your hands as Tony smirked at Bucky and raised his glass in salute.

“Boys,” Pepper interjected with a soft laugh, “while I completely agree with your shared assessment, you’re going to kill Pocket from embarrassment.”

“Thank you, Pep,” you murmered through your fingers.

“Alright, alright,” Tony said with a laugh, “subject change. So Barnes, when are you going to make an honest woman of our girl and weirdly become my brother-in-law? Huh– there’s a phrase I never expected to utter.”

You nearly choked on the piece of bread you’d been nibbling on as Bucky began spluttering on his mouthful of champagne. You cleared your throat and put a reassuring hand on Bucky’s knee. “If that becomes a topic that needs to be discussed, Tony, you will definitely be one of the first handful of people to know.”

“The first handful?” Tony cried, face affronted. “I should be number two, at least!”

“Number two?!” you asked him incredulously. “Come on, you egomaniac! How the fuck do you figure that?”

“Easy,” Tony said, leaning over the table toward you. “Barnes knows first because he decides he wants to marry you for some reason known only to him and his maker, he asks me for my blessing, and then you can find out after. So, number two! Come to think of it, you’ll probably be fifth to know, because I’m sure he’ll tell Capsicle after me, and of course I’ll tell Pepper, so it’s actually you in the first handful, not me.

You rolled your eyes at him. “Oh really?” you asked, and he nodded, smirking at you. “Well, in that case, what number is Pep going to be when you decide to get your ass in gear and make an honest woman out of her? No offense, Pep,” you added quickly.

“None taken, honey, but are you both positive you’re not actually siblings?” Pepper laughed.

You and Tony both snorted, rolled your eyes, and muttered “He/She wishes” at the same time, which caused your entire table to laugh, breaking any tension that might have remained following Tony’s mention of a possible engagement.

From there, the conversation flowed to much less loaded topics, and soon your third course dishes were being cleared. You were feeling slightly buzzed from the champagne and were devilishly seeing how far you could push Bucky by tracing your hand along his upper thigh when Tony’s phone rang.

“Tony,” Pepper chastised as he pulled out the device to look at the screen. “I thought we agreed on no calls during couple’s time?”

You quickly shot Bucky a teasing look as if to say “see?”

“Sorry, honey, but it’s the emergencies-only line.” He put the phone to his ear. “Talk to me, Banner. … When did they get in? … WHAT?! … How? … Is he…? … No, I got it. We’re on our way.” Tony stood up abruptly from the table, ending the call.

“Tony, what–” Pepper began, but Tony put his hand on her arm, pulling her up and cutting her off.

“Wilson, Carthage, and Rhodes just landed from the Malaysia mission,” he began, his face stone serious. It was a look you hated seeing on his face, because it meant something was horribly wrong. “Rhodey’s been hurt. It’s bad. We need to get home. Now.”

*

The four of you rushed into the med bay, looking completely out of place in your formal dinner clothes. Tony immediately began shouting for Banner, desperate to know what had happened to his best friend, and you were worried sick. For as long as you’d known Tony, Rhodey had been a part of your life, too. You gasped and put a hand to your mouth when you eventually turned a corner and found your team gathered around Rhodey’s lifeless form hooked up to Dr. Cho’s Cradle. He was lying so still inside you were afraid for a moment that he was dead, but the steady beeping of the machines let you know that, for now, at least, he was still alive. You felt Bucky take a quick inhale as he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you into him.

“Someone tell me what the fuck happened, right now!” Tony bellowed. He’d lost his tie somewhere between the restaurant and the Tower, and with the amount of tugging he’d done at his hair and the look of utter despair on his face, he looked like he was coming completely undone. Pepper was rubbing circles on his back, doing her best to calm him down before he gave himself a heart attack.

“He’s stable,” Bruce said, stepping forward to put a hand on Tony’s shoulder. “That’s the important thing.” Tony let out a barely audible sigh as Bruce continued. “He took a couple of bullets– one punctured a lung and one hit a major artery. He’s lost a lot of blood, and there may end up being some brain damage. But if Sam hadn’t gotten him into the Quinjet’s on-board Cradle in time, well…” he shrugged, leaving the ominous conclusion unsaid.

Tony took three long strides over to where Sam stood, Falcon suit completely covered in Rhodey’s blood, and wrapped him in a tight embrace. Sam’s eyes widened in shock as he slowly reached his arms up to return the hug, awkwardly patting Tony on the back.

“Thank you,” said Tony, taking a step back. “What happened?”

Sam cast a glance to the corner of the room, where you now noticed Jade Carthage, tac-suit pristine– not an ounce of blood on her– with her arms wrapped around herself, as though trying to take up as little space as possible.

“Wilson.” Tony’s voice was threatening.

“We spent the last two weeks getting Hydra intel, like we were supposed to do,” Sam said. “We knew it was a fact-finding mission, only. We weren’t looking for a fight, I swear.” He cast an angry glance at Jade. “Last night, Carthage said she got word about an abandoned Hydra base. No agents left, but maybe a goldmine for intel. She wanted to check it out. Rhodey and I tried to convince her that we should follow our orders, call home for back up so we wouldn’t be met with any surprises we’d be outnumbered for, but she insisted it was safe, her intel was good.”

Sam took a deep breath. “She… she took off on her own. We weren’t just gonna let a teammate go in solo, super soldier or not, so we followed her. It was… it was a fucking ambush, man. Was like they knew we were comin’. The place was crawlin’ with Hydra agents, like a goddamn ant hill. They started firing, and before Rhodey could activate his suit, he took two hits. I screamed for Carthage to cover me and was able to get my wings up– deflect any more bullets from hitting us, and I picked him up and dragged him to the jet. Got him into the Cradle just as she was runnin’ up the plank, and we got outta there as fast as we could and headed straight home. I’m so sorry, Tony.”

Tony shook his head and patted Sam on the shoulder. “Don’t be sorry, Birdbrain. If not for you, Rhodey wouldn’t have made it.” He turned and took a few steps toward Jade, eyes narrowed. “Carthage, on the other hand, what the hell were you thinking?!”

Jade dropped her arms from where she held them across her chest. “It’s not my fault,” she said, holding her chin out defiantly. “I got bad intel; it was just unlucky.”

“Unlucky?” Tony asked, shocked. “Unlucky?!” He was shouting now. “Your recklessness could have gotten your entire team killed and you chalk that up to a lack of fucking luck?”

“Stark,” Bucky warned from beside you.

“Bucky, don’t,” you pleaded softly, desperately.

“You can’t seriously be blaming me for this!” Jade argued. “I was trying to neutralize a threat. Isn’t that what we Avengers are supposed to do? How is it my fault Rhodes wasn’t prepared for battle? Huh? How is it my responsibility to make sure he had his armor ready before going into potentially hostile territory. Sounds to me like your friend’s the one who was reckless and you’re just looking to find anyone else to blame.”

The group collectively gasped. “Jade,” Steve began in his Captain America voice, “perhaps this isn’t—”

“You weren’t even supposed to be there!” Tony screamed at her. Jade flinched inward on herself, and you had to put a hand on Bucky’s arm to keep him from going to her. “You disobeyed direct orders and jeopardized your mission. You followed up on intel that you hadn’t verified, you needlessly risked the lives of yourself and your team, and you can’t even take responsibility for your actions! You’re fucking benched, Carthage! You’re a liability in the field and I won’t have you putting any more of my people in harm’s way because you’re too fucking stupid to do your damned job!”

“That’s enough, Stark!” Bucky broke free of your grasp and moved to stand between Jade and Tony as Jade quietly began to sob. “I get that you’re upset about Rhodey– we all are, but you’re outta line. Yeah, she fucked up, but that’s no excuse to attack her like this in front of everyone.”

Tony scoffed at Bucky’s words. “Get her out of my sight. Before I do something I’ll really regret.”

Bucky put an arm around Jade’s shoulder and began to lead the sobbing girl out of the med bay.

“Oh, and Barnes?” Tony called out before they could make it to the door. Bucky stopped and turned to face him. “Wanna remind us all again who your actual girlfriend is? Cause it sure as hell seems like you’ve forgotten.”

Bucky blanched as he turned to look at you, but you couldn’t meet his gaze, too mortified by his actions and the way they’d been so obvious that Tony called him out in front of everybody. Without another word, Bucky turned and escorted Jade out of the med bay. Any joy you’d felt earlier today in your accomplishments with the C-PAS had vanished with concern for Rhodey and abject embarrassment from your boyfriend.

The rest of the team had the decency, at least, to avoid looking at you.

Tony heaved a sigh and walked up to you. “I’m sorry, kiddo. I shouldn’t have drug your business into that mess.”

“You fucking think, Tony?” You shoved him hard in the chest with both your hands. “That was beyond shitty! I get you’re hurt and you’re scared– I am, too! And trust me, no one wants that bitch gone more than I do, but what you just did was— was—” You couldn’t even find the words for how horrible and small his actions had made you feel. You were, without a doubt, far more upset with Tony at that moment than you were with Bucky. Bucky, at least, had been trying to protect a friend from Tony’s wrath, however justified you personally felt it may have been, but what Tony did was unnecessarily cruel. And even worse, it wasn’t just cruel to Bucky, it was cruel to you. You couldn’t be mad at Bucky simply because he was being kind, even if you did wish he was being kind to literally anyone else on the planet.

“Tony,” Bruce called from where he stood by the Cradle. “I need to go over some more details about Rhodey’s condition with you.”

Casting you a final sympathetic look of apology, Tony turned and walked to Bruce’s side.

Nat came to your side, concern showing on her face. “You okay?” she asked softly.

“Yeah,” you said. “Is it pathetic that I’m not even that mad at Bucky?” The question came out with a half hearted laugh.

“No,” Nat said. “I get what he was trying to do. Might not have been the smartest way to go about it, but he’s always been the protective, guard dog type.”

You breathed in a sigh of relief. If Natasha Romanoff agreed with you, it either meant you were doing something very right, or something incredibly stupid.

Sam came up to you both after a moment. “Hey,” he said, voice low. “Did you mean what you just told Tony? About wanting Carthage gone?”

You snorted. “Yeah, since before Day One. Why?”

“It’s a shared sentiment,” offered Nat.

Sam glanced around, then back to you and Nat. “We should go somewhere private,” he said. “I think the three of us should have a little chat.”

*

Moments later, the three of you were holed up in your room, as it was on the floor closest to the med bay. You and Nat sat on the couch while Sam, who had quickly rinsed himself of Rhodey’s blood in your shower, and was now wearing your terrycloth robe, sat in one of your armchairs. While passing Jade’s room, you’d put an ear to her door and heard her still crying, the low thrum of Bucky’s voice as he tried to reassure her.

“Spill,” said Nat eagerly. “Who knows how much time we have before Barnes gets back.”

“Yeah, on second thought, this might not have been the best place for a clandestine meeting,” Sam said.

“Just talk!” you urged him.

“Okay, okay!” he began. “So, I think we were set up.”

You and Nat both gasped simultaneously. “You’re not suggesting–” you said, just as Nat said:

“You think Carthage faked the intel?”

Sam shrugged. “I can’t prove it, but none of it adds up,” he said. “To be honest, she was pretty useless on the entire mission. Didn’t come up with a single piece of intel until that final night, and it just so happened to point to an abandoned Hydra base? Come on, man, what are the odds of that?” Sam scoffed.

“We told her protocol dictated we report it back to command, then wait for back up if the intel was deemed worthy of investigating. She got real insistent we check it ourselves, told us it was probably nothing, but even if it was something, it’d just be an abandoned spot. Said her source told her it had a motherlode of dirt on Hydra operatives in positions in international governments. If we could bring it home, we’d be single handedly exposing the very inner workings of Hydra, and how could we not do that? Rhodey wanted to go interrogate her ‘source’ himself, but Jade wouldn’t give it up; said he just had to trust her.” Sam snorted. “Girl, please. You’re a fucking snake.” You couldn’t help but giggle at that; you’d had essentially the same thought, once upon a time.

“Everything we do to try to convince her to hold off, she fights us on. There was nothing we could say to get her to let go of the idea. But we’re thinking Probie just wants to prove herself in the field, right? We’ve all been there. When she took off, we followed her. Figured we’d at least have her six if something went screwy, and we weren’t going to get reamed out by Cap and Stark if something happened to her out there. But here’s the thing:” Sam scootched forward until he was sitting at the very edge of his seat. “She went in there well before us. By at least three, maybe five minutes, okay?” You and Nat both nodded. “So, my question then becomes, ‘how come the shooting don’t start until after me and Rhodey go in?’ ‘s almost like she went in first and gave them the signal to start firing.” You and Nat stared at each other, wide-eyed. It was speculative, true, but…

“And she don’t come out with a scratch, or a drop of blood on her.” Sam continued. “Plus, I checked her clips when she was sleeping on the flight home. Girl didn’t fire a single shot. Me and Rhodey are in a shootout for our lives, and she doesn’t fire one bullet? Almost like she knew she didn’t need to defend herself.”

“Or you,” Nat added thoughtfully.

“Sam,” you began slowly, “I hate her more than everyone else in this building, but you’re making a really heavy accusation. We would need real, hard evidence in order to do anything about it. She could just really be that incompetent.”

“That’s why I’m comin’ to the two of you,” he grinned. “Computer genius and a super spy. Shouldn’t be hard for the two of you to help Ole Sammy out.”

“Ugh, I hate it when you refer to yourself as ‘Ole Sammy,’” Nat bemoaned. “But I’ll reach out to some of my old KGB contacts. See what they drum up. Pocket, can you go through the Tower’s systems, see if she’s tried to access anything she shouldn’t have? Anything that sets off alarm bells?”

You nodded. “Yeah, that’ll be easy enough.”

“Good,” said Sam, standing up. “In the meantime, this stays between the three of us. Pocket, you gonna be able to keep this from Tin Man? He’s a little too cozy with her for my taste.”

You snorted at that. “Yeah, mine, too. Don’t worry, I won’t say a word.”

“Neither will I,” Nat promised.

“Alright then, ladies, meeting adjourned.” Sam said as he walked to the door. You followed him, wanting to see him out. As you opened the door for him, you met Bucky in the hallway, leaving Jade’s room.

“Hey there, Buck,” Sam smiled cheerfully before giving you a peck on the head. “Thanks for the chat, Baby Girl. I’ll see you later.”

You and Bucky watched him walk down the hall before he turned to you, eyes narrowed. “Care to tell me why Big Bird is coming out of our room wearing nothing but your robe?” he asked carefully.

“We’re obviously having an affair,” you said dryly, walking back into your room, him right at your heels.

“Well, if it walks like a duck,” Bucky’s voice was angry as he entered your room.

“Are you serious with that right now?” you asked.

“In that case, you’ve been quacking like a duck for a long time now, Barnes,” Nat said from her spot on the couch.

“Oh, hey Nat,” Bucky said, relief washing over his features at knowing you and Sam hadn’t been alone.

Nat stood up and made her way to the door. “I’m gonna head out, let you two work through your ducking issues. See you later, Pocket. Barnes; nice projection work just now.” With a nod, she was gone.

“Listen, Pocket,” Bucky, blatantly ignoring Nat’s jab, began, “about earlier…”

“I get it, Buck,” you said, sighing. “You were just trying to protect your friend. I’ll be honest and tell you that I didn’t love the way it looked, and it was embarrassing. But I’m not holding it against you. How can I when you were looking out for someone you care about, even though I really wish you would care about literally anyone else but her? Sorry– that was petty.” You sighed. “Tony made it worse. He’s the one I’m furious with, not you.”

“Thank you for understanding, doll.” He kissed your forehead. “Stark had no right to yell at her like that. He was way outta line.”

“Oh, I’m completely on Tony’s side about that,” you said, holding up a hand when he began to argue with you. “But you and I are going to have to agree to disagree there.”

The corner of his mouth turned up in a cute half-grin. “Alright, sweetheart.” He pulled you to him. “I’m just sorry your special day got overshadowed by all this other shit. I know!” He looked down on you, grinning. “Why don’t you pack a bag and first thing tomorrow, you and I’ll drive Upstate, find ourselves a nice little BnB, and spend the rest of the weekend celebratin’, just the two of us? Maybe we can drive out to the Catskills, find a nice spot to look at the stars. You always complain how you can never see them in the city.”

“Yeah, Buck,” you said, snuggling close to him. “‘S long as we know Rhodey’s gonna be alright, I would love to do that with you.”

Chapter 13: Uncomfortable

Chapter Text

Unfortunately, the weekend away didn’t materialize. Bucky got a call in the early hours of the morning— Jade was in the med bay with a panic attack and was asking for him.

“Bucky,” you begged, literally begged. “Please, don’t go.”

He sighed as he pulled on a pair of sweats. “I’ve got to, baby. She’s got no one else, and she feels like the whole Tower’s against her right now.” Well, that was because the whole Tower was against her, and if Sam was correct in his theory, rightly so. What did he expect?

“If you go,” you said, sitting up and holding the sheets to your bare chest, “I bet you every dollar in my swear jar that she’s just fine when you get there, but the second you try to leave, the ‘panic attack’ will start right up again.” Bucky frowned at you as he pulled a tee shirt over his head.

“Pocket,” he began, but you started talking over him.

“We’re supposed to leave in a few hours. I’m telling you right now that she’s going to suck up your entire day, and this make up celebration you promised me, to make up for her ruining my celebration dinner, mind you, isn’t going to happen.”

“I just can’t, in good conscience, leave her to suffer by herself, Pocket,” he said, and you could see the struggle on his face, hear the conflict in his voice. “You asked me to think of Steve in situations like this, and I’d want you to be there for him if he really needed you.”

“But she doesn’t need you, Bucky,” you said, voice now raised. “It’s a manipulation tactic, and you’re falling for it!”

“Forgive me for wanting to believe people are better than that.” Bucky reached the door, twisting the handle open. “I’ll be back as soon as I can, and we’ll head Upstate. I promise.”

“Every time you walk out that door for her,” you said, your voice sad, “you’re increasing the chances that one day, it’ll be locked to you when you come back.”

“Are you… threatening to break up with me for offering support to a friend?” he asked warily.

“No, Bucky,” you said as you rolled over, turning away from him. “I’m warning you of what’s going to happen if you keep putting her first.”

You heard him sigh, and the door closed. You didn’t need to turn around to know that he’d left.

*

When you woke up a few hours later, Bucky wasn’t back. You checked your phone. It was well past the time you’d planned on leaving to go Upstate, not that you were surprised. He’d text you, apologizing, telling you that Jade was too emotionally distraught to be left alone for the time being, but he promised to be back soon, and you’d still make your trip. You knew the promise was hollow. You didn’t believe he was sleeping with her, not really, but the situation was becoming untenable. You’d always said you would never try to control who he could or couldn’t be friends with, but you began to wonder if it was time for an ultimatum. The idea of imposing one sat poorly with you; it wasn’t the kind of girlfriend you wanted to be, but you felt he was leaving you no choice anymore. Every boundary you had asked him to keep with her, she’d somehow find a way to push him past.

He wasn’t blameless in the situation, you knew that. You knew he loved you, wanted to be with you, but how many chances could you give him to put you first, only to have him fail you? He wasn’t doing it on purpose; he was a genuinely good person who saw someone who had suffered as he had, and who wanted to provide support in a way that had been denied to him, but he was doing it at the expense of your relationship, your heart, your fucking sanity. He was taking you for granted, assuming that you’d always forgive him. And why wouldn’t he? You’d done it each and every time before.

You got up and got dressed, trying to find a use for your time so that you weren’t incessantly staring at the clock, waiting for Bucky to finally decide to make time for you. You suddenly remembered the request that Sam had made of you the night before– that you check the Tower’s systems to see if Jade had attempted to access anything that might set up red flags.

Grabbing your laptop, you made your way to the kitchen to grab a bagel and glass of juice before curling up on a chaise lounge in the common room and began working. It was going to be a time consuming task; the Tower’s systems were massive, but you’d built a good portion of them yourself, so it was a lot like wandering the forest in your own backyard.

Hours later, you were rubbing your eyes, regretting that you had left your glasses in your room. The sun was low in the sky, hovering just above the city skyline. Standing up to stretch, you cracked your neck and lower back before shooting off a text to Sam.

>>Just ran a check of the Tower systems for Jade’s footprint.

Ole Sammy: And???? Don’t leave me hangin in suspense, Baby Girl!

>> And, nothing screaming ENEMY AGENT.

>> She accessed Bucky’s unlocked files.

>> Like, a lot.

Ole Sammy: Creepy, but not surprising.

>> No, considering she’s fucking obsessed with him.

Ole Sammy: Unless…

>> Unless what, Samuel?

Ole Sammy: Nothing. Just a thought. Probably nothing. Don’t worry about it.

>> Stop being cryptic. Tell me.

Ole Sammy: Not unless I have proof to back it up. I don’t want to make accusations without evidence. Bitch’s scary AF. Besides, she could kick my ass.

>> Pretty sure I could kick your ass.

Ole Sammy: Only if I didn’t have my wings!

>> Not the flex you think it is.

Ole Sammy: How’s Upstate?

>> Wouldn’t know. Jade had a ‘panic attack’ in the night and has needed Bucky by her side ever since.

Ole Sammy: That dumb ass mother fucker! How much longer you gonna put up with this shit, Baby Girl?

>> I’ll talk to you later, Sam.

*

You made your way back to your room, trying to decide what you wanted to do for dinner, and assuming you’d be on your own for it. By now, you and Bucky were supposed to be dining along the Hudson River, getting ready to drive out into the mountains for your stargazing. Instead, he’d be sitting at Jade’s bedside and you’d be wondering how much longer you were gonna put up with this shit, as Sam so eloquently put it.

When you entered your room, you gasped. Propped up against the foot of your bed was a canvas painting– Frederic Edwin Church’s Moonlight in the Tropics, from his Twilight in the Tropics series– with a red bow stuck to the corner. You’d been a fan of the Hudson River School of painting since the first time Tony took you to see an exhibition years ago, and Church was your favorite by far.

You slowly approached the canvas, almost afraid to get too near it. The last time it had gone up at auction, you knew it had fetched over $1.2 million. This had to be a reproduction. Tentatively, you reached out a hand and delicately traced a fingertip over the brushstrokes. If it was a reproduction, it was damned good.

You gently pried off the bow to find a note. In Tony’s messy scraw, you read ‘I’m so sorry, Pocket. I never should have dragged your personal business in front of the team like that. I hope you can forgive me. Tony. PS- Yes, the it’s real deal’

You sighed and shook your head. Tony fucking Stark. You pulled out your phone.

>> You’re a fucking dumbass.

IronBossMan: Apology accepted, I take it?

>> You’re lucky you’re family.

IronBossMan: Yes, I am. Very much so.

>> How’s Rhodey?

IronBossMan: Good. Stable. Hasn’t woken up yet, but Banner’s hopeful for a full recovery.

>> Good. I’m glad.

IronBossMan: Me, too.

>> Goodnight, Boss.

IronBossMan: Goodnight, Kiddo.

You’d have to get the tools necessary to hang it up in the morning. For now, you propped it up on your desktop. Crawling onto your couch, you tucked your knees under your chin and held them to your chest while you stared at the painting. Not his most expensive apology, but far more meaningful to you than the Ferrari.

*

You weren’t sure how long you sat there, lost in the dark colors, the reflection of the moonlight over the water. The sound of the door opening broke through your thoughts, and you turned to see Bucky shuffle into the room.

“Hey, sweets,” he said, toeing off his boots.

“Hey,” you said without emotion, turning your face back to the painting.

“Whacha lookin’ at?” he asked, coming to sit next to you on the couch.

“Apology gift from Tony.”

“What’s he apologizing to you for?” God, you couldn’t even muster up the energy to be angry at him.

“Calling out your unhealthy obsession with Jade in front of the team,” you said, voice flat.

“I do not have an unhealthy obsession with Vix,” Bucky said, annoyance coloring his words. “How many times do I have to tell you there’s nothing going on between the two of us before you start believing me.”

“Maybe you should stop telling me there’s nothing and start actually acting like there’s nothing,” you said as you stood up. “Because honestly, I’m tired of hearing your empty words.” You began to walk away, but Bucky reached out and grabbed your arm.

“They aren’t empty, Pocket!” he said. His voice wasn’t loud, but it filled the room as if he’d shouted. “It fucking hurts like hell to hear you say that.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” You couldn’t help the sarcasm that oozed from your voice now. “Your feelings are hurt now, so that changes everything. Let me put aside the pain I’ve been dealing with for months to reassure you.” You yanked your hand free from his grasp. “I’m exhausted, Bucky. Nothing is getting better. In fact, things are getting worse, and I keep pretending that I can be okay with things, but you just keep picking her over me, time and time again. I don’t deserve that. Not from someone who’s supposed to love me.”

“Pick her over you? That’s fucking bullshit and you know it,” he said, voice rising.

“Is it?” you asked him. You pointed to the corner where your overnight bags sat waiting for a trip you’d never take. “Is that bullshit, Bucky? Cause we were supposed to be in the Catskills right now, but because that fucking cunt came crying for you, you went running to her and left me sitting here, alone and forgotten. Again.”

“Pocket,” Bucky ran a hand over the back of his neck, a sure sign you were ruffling him. “She needed someone to support her. She’s not like you– she doesn’t–”

“Oh, shut the fuck up, Barnes!” you interrupted, shouting now. “I’m trying to tell you that I’m breaking up with you because of her and you still just stand there and defend her!”

Bucky’s face paled and his eyes went wide. “No,” he said, his voice barely audible.

“What?” You weren’t sure you heard him.

“I said ‘no,’” he said, his voice louder, but still soft. “You’re not breakin’ up with me. Doll, please. I need you. You said you were gonna fight for us, fight for me. That’s what you said!”

“I’m so tired of fighting for you when you’re off fighting for her! I can’t do this anymore, Bucky,” you practically sobbed. “You are fucking destroying me and feel like you just. don’t. care. I can’t just sit here and let it keep happening. You say you need me, but you’ve made it clear time and time again that you don’t give a shit about what I need. Every time I’ve asked you to put a boundary between you and Carthage, you’ve stomped right over it. And I can’t keep living like this. Yesterday was supposed to be a celebration of one of the greatest accomplishments of my career, and she ruined it.”

“It wasn’t her fault she got bad intel!” Bucky shouted.

“Could you just FUCKING STOP?!” you screamed. “Stop defending her! She either royally fucked up or she set them up on purpose! Those are the only two options! Either way, the entire thing was her fault. Rhodey is unconscious– almost died– because of her! She’s got you so wrapped around her fucking finger that you can’t even see it, and I am SO. GOD. DAMNED. OVER. IT! You promised me you’d make it up to me,” you continued shouting at him. “You fucking promised! But as soon as she bats her lashes, your promises don’t mean shit! You keep making excuses, you keep saying you’re sorry, but you keep doing the same fucking thing over and over again, and the only thing your actions are promising is that she means more to you than I do!”

“That’s not true!” he shouted back at you. “You mean more to me than anything!”

“I don’t fucking believe you!” you screamed, your voice going hoarse.

“I’ll fucking prove it to you!” He grabbed your elbows and pulled you to him, kissing you with such force it would have knocked you over if he hadn’t been holding you up. The moment he broke the kiss for air, you slapped him across the face. Only to immediately kiss him again.

Within seconds, you were ripping at each other’s clothes, desperate to feel one another, skin to skin, your tongues battling against each other as though whomever could dominate the kiss could win your fight. Bucky literally tore your shirt in half before you pushed him down onto your bed. Crawling on top of him, you scratched your nails down his chest, hard enough to draw blood.

Bucky hissed into your mouth, reaching down to yank off his pants and boxer briefs. You hastily pulled them down and off his legs before climbing back up to his mouth. Your kisses were passionate, angry and feral, each of you trying to prove a point to the other.

You felt both of Bucky’s hands grasp the waistband of your jeans and rip them open, sending the button and zipper teeth flying. “Those were my favorite fucking jeans,” you warned.

“I’ll buy you another pair,” he growled, shoving a hand into your panties and finding your clit. You arched your back as he pinched and rolled it between his fingers, the aggression in his movements igniting your blood. You gasped as he shoved two fingers into you while simultaneously flipping you so you were now on your back and he loomed above you.

He pulled his hand from you, leaving you aching and empty. He kissed you as he divested you of what was left of your jeans and your panties. “Taste yourself,” he said, shoving his fingers into your mouth. You sucked on them, savoring the tang of your essence on his skin. Bucky groaned at the sight before pulling his fingers out and kissing you again.

“You’re mine,” he growled, grabbing at your breasts and roughly kneading the flesh. “Look at me, Pocket. You’re mine.” You turned your head away, not wanting to meet his eyes, but Bucky would have none of it. Gripping your chin tight enough to leave a bruise, he yanked your head back so you were looking him in the eye. “I said, you’re mine.” He entered you then, the force of it nearly splitting you in half. “You’re mine and I’m fucking yours. Forever.”

He pounded into you as if his very life depended on it, and you clutched at his shoulders for dear life. “God, yes, Bucky,” you cried, all your resolve finally leaving you as the pleasure rose within you. “I’m yours, and you’re mine. Only mine. Only fucking mine!”

With a roar, Bucky picked up one of your legs and draped it over his shoulder, the new angle allowing him to hit you deeper as he drove into you. His thrusts were punishing, as though he were trying to see just how deep he could get himself inside of you before you actually broke in two.

"You like that?" he murmured as he rutted his hips into you.

"Fuck, yes, please, Bucky-- just like that," you moaned. He had you close. So, so close. "Keep going."

"Yeah, I thought so, you dirty slut," he grunted.

"What?" you asked, pulling your head back into the pillow so you could stare at him, wide-eyed as he continued to pound relentlessly into you. His words had taken you aback-- this was not something your loving boyfriend had ever said to you before. You dropped one leg from around his waist and tried to pull the other from his shoulder.

"Knew you loved taking my cock. God, you're such a filthy whore for me."

"Bucky, stop." You pushed gently against his chest, but he was already so far gone to his lust that he didn't seem to hear you.

"Such a good fucktoy for me," he grunted, his pace quickening as he neared his release. You felt your breath coming hard and fast now, but not from your impending climax, which had died with his words, but from an oncoming anxiety attack. “You goin’ dumb on me already, like a good little cockslut?”

Flashes of your miserable childhood flickered through your head, the way Darren would call you his "good little money-making whore" after you'd been raped by yet another of his clients, or when he decided to violate you himself, calling you his own personal slut, his special fuck toy.

"Bucky," you shouted, punching him with your fists, desperate now to get him off you, out of you. "Stop! Get off of me! GET OFF OF ME!" You screamed, thrashing at him. You saw the moment your words registered-- his eyes lost their haze of lust and his hips stopped pumping into you.

"Doll?" he asked, looking down on you in confusion. "What's wr--"

"Get off me, get off me, get off me!" you shrieked as you rolled out from under him, your entire body suddenly on fire with shame and disgust. The second your feet hit your bedroom floor, you were reaching for your silk robe, wrapping yourself in it as though the thin fabric could protect you from his words. From him.

"Pocket," Bucky watched your movements, his eyes betraying his bewilderment at your actions. "What's going on? What did I do?"

"Why would you call me that?" you asked, your words coming out in between your desperate gasps for air. "Why would you say those things?"

Bucky sat up, reaching for you, but you moved away from him. "Baby, what things? What did I s--" Realization dawned on him then, and his entire face fell. "Shit. Oh, God. Oh, Pocket. Sweetheart, I am so sorry. I didn't think--"

"Why would you say that, Bucky?" you asked, fighting back the tears that so desperately wanted to break free. "You've never called me a-a-..." you couldn't even get the word out. "How could you do that?"

"Fuck, Baby..." Bucky began, running his hands through his hair in response to your distress, "I never... I thought you'd like it. I should have realized, after Darren..."

"Don't say his name!" You hadn't meant to shout at him, but you were damned if you were going to invite the ghost of your tormentor into the sanctuary of your room. "Please," you cried, "don't say his name."

Bucky got up and tried to wrap his arms around you, but you pulled away, feeling too vile, too dirty, to even let him touch you.

"Sweetheart, please," he began, reaching for you again, "you're shaking. Let me hold you." You shook your head as you moved away from him yet again, trying to steady yourself.

"Where did that even come from, Bucky? Why would you think... What would even make you think that was something I would want?"

Bucky's hand went to rub the back of his neck as he looked up at you from behind his lashes. "I... I heard girls... like that sort of thing. That it turns them on."

"You can't just start it out of nowhere," you cried, "It's something you need to agree on first! You can't just say it without making sure your partner's okay with it! And I can't believe you'd ever think I would be okay with it! God, who even told you that?" You couldn't imagine any of Bucky's friends saying something like that to him; hell, Steve would have a coronary before even suggesting it. Did he read about it in some degrading kink group online?

"I was talking to Vix, and she said--"

"You what?" you spun to face him, your words sharp in your shock.

"Vixen. Jade. I was talking to her during training one time and she said girls like it when guys talk to them like that during sex. Well, she said she likes it. Said it, uh, turns her on."

Your entire body froze as if you'd been doused with ice water. "You were talking to Jade Carthage about sex and what gets her off." Your voice was hard and clipped. It wasn't even a question, just a statement that made your stomach twist, but you had to make sure you had understood him correctly.

"Well, when you say it like that, it sounds bad," Bucky hemmed, "but sweets, I swear, it wasn't like that."

You called for FRIDAY to turn up the lights, no longer wanting to be trapped in the intimacy of the semi-darkness with him.

"It wasn't like that? Then please enlighten me, Bucky, what was it like? Jesus, how did you two even stumble into that conversation in the first place?"

"Baby," Bucky looked frantic as he grabbed his boxer briefs from the floor and tugged them back on, "I don't even remember how we got on the subject. We were sparring and I pinned her and--"

"You had a conversation about sex while you were lying on fucking top of her?" You could barely contain your rage; you were seething, about to vibrate out of your skin with revulsion.

"Honey, it's not that big of a deal, really."

"Not that big of a deal?" you asked, knowing you were about to tread into some very dangerous territory, but needing him to understand you. "So, it wouldn't be that big of a deal if I let Steve get on top of me and had him tell me what gets him hard? What makes him come?"

Bucky's jaw tightened immediately at the mention of Steve. "Don't," he growled. "Do not bring him into this. It's completely different."

"It's not, Bucky! It's a thousand times worse! God," you threw your arms above your head as you began to pace in front of your bed. "I can't tell if you're actually this naive or if you think I'm fucking stupid."

"I don't think you're stupid, Pocket," Bucky's voice was quieter now, more restrained. "I... God, I just messed up. I'm an idiot. I didn't think it through and..." He trailed off and slumped onto the edge of the bed, his hands pushed into his hair as he stared down at the floor.

You could see his muscles craving to pull you back into his arms, but he resisted. His eyes flickered to you before darting away again, like looking at you caused him physical pain.

"Do you want to sleep with her? Were you imagining her while you were fucking me?" It was a reckless question to ask--a question that you didn’t want the answer to--but it slipped out before you could stop it.

Bucky's head whipped up, his eyes wide with shock as he stared at you. "What? No!" He stood abruptly, hands outstretched towards you. "Baby, no! God, no! I would never... I can't even believe you'd think... Don't even talk like that."

"But you took her kinks, her turn ons, and you brought them into our bed. You spoke words you knew another woman-- a woman you know I fucking loathe-- wanted to hear, you... you used them on me, knowing my history, and you didn't give a shit about what saying them might do to me!" Your voice was trembling with accusation, your body shaking with tremors of hurt and betrayal.

"No! No, sweetheart... it wasn't like that." He kept repeating himself, his words rushed, his face pale with shock and regret. "I didn't mean to disrespect you like that. I heard her say it and I thought... I mean, she's a woman too, right? So, if she liked it, I thought maybe you..." He trailed off, his expression one of sheer desperation as he tried to find the right words.

"But I'm not her. It wasn’t about pleasing me; it was about using what pleases her." You shook your head harshly, a lump forming in your throat. "You don't even see how wrong that is. And you shouldn't even have been having the conversation with her in the fucking first place!"

"What can I do?" Bucky pleaded, his voice a strained whisper as he raked his fingers through his hair again. His face was etched with pain, regret seeping from every pore of him. "How can I fix this? Tell me how to make it right."

But you were too overcome by anger and heartbreak to think straight. You moved further away from him, wrapping your arms around yourself as if you were trying to shield your heart from further damage.

“What did you tell her?” you asked, but Bucky looked at you with confusion etched across his face. “You said it was a conversation. I’m assuming she didn’t do all the talking. What did you talk about? Did you tell her what gets you off? What you like? Were you sharing intimate details about our sex life with a complete outsider? Did you tell her about your ‘sergeant’ kink?”

He didn’t need to speak for you to read the truth in the expression on his face.

The silence hung in the room, heavy and oppressive, as Bucky fought for words. A nerve twitched in his jaw, the only movement in his otherwise frozen face. After a moment of uncomfortable silence, he finally spoke.

"I... Yes, I did," he admitted, his voice a mere whisper. "I didn't think it through. I didn't mean to... I just..."

His voice trailed off again and he sunk back onto the bed, looking completely defeated. His hands covered his face as if he were desperate to hide himself from your accusing gaze.

“Get out.” You couldn’t even stand to look at him. This was a betrayal beyond anything you’d ever have expected from him.

Bucky’s head snapped up at your words, his eyes wide with shock. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. He just sat there on the edge of the bed, staring at you as though he was seeing you for the first time.

"Get out," you repeated, each word a dagger. "I can't... I can't stand to even look at you right now."

Still, Bucky didn’t move. He just sat there in stunned silence, his face pale and his eyes filled with regret.

"I said get out!" Your voice was shrill, filling the room with a chilling echo that seemed to reverberate through every fiber of your being.

Bucky flinched at your tone, and finally roused himself to his feet. He looked at you one last time, his steel-blue eyes so full of pain that it made your heart ache despite everything. For a moment, it seemed like he might say something else, like he might try to explain, but you’d had enough of his ‘explanations’ for the evening. Hell, maybe for the rest of your life.

Bucky swallowed hard, his eyes filling with a mixture of fear and dread as he nodded slowly. "Okay... yeah," he stammered. "I'll give you some space."

“No. I can’t do this anymore. I’m done, Bucky. This… this is unforgivable. We’re finished.”

"Doll," he breathed, the pet name he had given you sounding like a prayer on his lips, but a curse to your ears. "I love you... I'm sorry. I messed up, I know. But I love you."

“I don’t believe you.” You felt like your heart was being ripped apart as you watched him standing there, consumed by remorse. You had never seen him like this before, his usual charismatic confidence replaced with fearful uncertainty.

“Just go,” you whispered, turning away so you wouldn't have to see the pain in his eyes. You felt a sob rising in your throat, but you held it back, refusing to let it out while he was still there.

With every inch of him screaming resistance, Bucky walked over to the door and hesitated at the threshold. "I'll... I'll do anything to make this right, sweetheart," he promised, his voice choked with emotion. "I'll fix this... We can fix this."

But you remained silent, your back still turned to him as you tried desperately to keep your tears at bay. The sound of the door opening and closing behind him was deafening in its finality.

You wrapped your arms around yourself tighter, suddenly feeling cold. The room was suddenly too big, too empty without Bucky's reassuring presence. You sunk onto the bed, burying your head in your hands as the events of the night washed over you with overwhelming force as you began to sob in earnest.

You weren't even sure what you were angriest about. He’d broken yet another promise and left you waiting, your romantic getaway forgotten so he could be by her side. He'd called you a slut and a whore. He’d discussed your sex life with Jade-- the one woman you hated above all others, and openly discussed her kinks with her, and his own desires in return. He'd forced her kinks on you without your consent.

And then there was the worst part of it all, the bit that made you feel sick and hollow: he'd failed to see what he'd done wrong.

You had thought Bucky knew you better, that he respected you more than this. You'd shared secrets and fears with him, things you'd never shared with anyone else, not even Tony. He knew your past, knew how much trust meant to you - knew how difficult it had been for you to open your vulnerabilities up to something more than just casual sex - and yet he'd violated that trust in such a profound way.

This was just beyond anything else that had come before it. You couldn’t see a way to move forward after this.

Numbly, you began to strip off the sheets from the bed, your hands shaking as you balled them up and threw them into a corner of the room. You couldn't sleep on them now, nor ever again. You couldn't bear the thought of lying down where he'd... where he'd...

Tears started to spill down your cheeks as the reality of what had happened set in. You tried to blink them away, tried to swallow down the lump in your throat. But it was too late. Tears blinded you as you moved through your space on muscle memory alone, grabbing a garbage bag from under the sink in the kitchenette and shoving the offending sheets into it to dispose of later. Boiling them in chlorine wouldn't be able to relieve them of the taint they now carried.

Once the offending sheets were securely bagged and out of sight, you stumbled your way into the bathroom. Turning the shower on as hot as it would go, you stripped from your robe and stepped under the scalding stream from the waterfall shower head.

Hissing as the water hit your body, you let yourself succumb to your emotions. You reached for your loofah and began scrubbing at your skin, doing everything in your power to wash away the intense feeling of shame that had permeated deep under your dermis. You scrubbed until your skin was red, until it was raw and cracked and bleeding, but it offered you no relief.

The sensations were familiar, the burning heat, the stinging of newly torn flesh. It had been so long since you had felt the need to ritually cleanse yourself like this, you had desperately hoped you'd finally found yourself beyond the need to do so, but just a few words from Bucky's mouth had sent you reeling backwards, back to being that worthless, vile, used up girl that no number of college degrees, fancy company titles, or board-approved computer programs could fully erase. It was in your DNA, and you couldn't escape it. You scrubbed and scrubbed until time had lost meaning.

*

“Pocket! Oh my God, Pocket!” A concerned voice broke through your haze. You hadn’t even realized you were curled up into the corner of your shower until Wanda stepped forward, turning off the now ice-cold water and was crouched down before you, wrapping you in an oversized towel sheet. “Honey, what have you done to yourself?”

She gently padded at your skin, the soft white cloth coming away spotted with your blood where it had touched open wounds.

“I’m fine, Wands,” you muttered through chattering teeth, your entire body trembling against the freezing tile. “I’m fine. You don’t need to be here.”

“Like hell you are,” she retorted, her usual calm demeanor shattered at the sight of you. “You’re hurting yourself.” You felt her cool, slim fingertips trace gently over the lines of your harshly scrubbed welts. “Honey, what happened? Why would you do this to yourself?” Her gaze flicked around the bathroom: your discarded robe, the streaks of bloody water slowly circling down the shower drain, your ruined skin under her hand. She gingerly removed her fingers from your arm and you instantly missed their warmth. “What did Barnes do?”

All you could do was shake your head as you shivered.

The look Wanda gave you was brutal in its pity. “Oh, honey,” she whispered, enveloping your body into a fierce hug. At the contact, the last of your defenses broke, and your sobbing began again, a tidal wave of pain rushing through you as you clutched her to you.

When your sobs had subsided, Wanda pulled back from you, putting your face in her hands. “Can you get up, sweetie? We need to get you off this floor or you're going to freeze.”

You nodded, and with her assistance, managed to stand. Once you had yourself steady on your feet, Wanda’s hands began to glow red. “I just need to get you warm, okay?” she asked. When you nodded, she let her magic flow around you, and you felt your skin warm and dry, and your towel turned into a long, plush bathrobe. “There, that’s better, isn’t it?” she asked you hopefully as she led you back into the main room and deposited you gently in the corner of your couch. All you could do was feebly nod in return.

“I think we’re going to need some reinforcements,” Wanda said as she pulled out her phone, sending out a quick text. “Now, you just rest here and I’m going to start cleaning up the bathroom, okay?”

Before she could walk away, you reached out and grabbed her arm. “How did you know to come in here, Wands?” you asked. “How’d you know I needed you?”

She cast you a soft smile. “Bucky called me. Told me you’d had a fight, that he’d really fucked up and asked me to check in on you.”

You nodded. At least he was capable of doing something right.

“You wanna talk about it?” she asked gently. You shook your head, but took her hands and put them to the sides of your head, giving her unspoken permission to view the memory directly from your mind.

Wanda looked at you. “Are you sure?” she asked. You nodded, wanting her to understand, but not wanting to have to explain how absolutely betrayed you felt, to relive the pain of it. You felt the familiar warmth enter your temples as Wanda’s fingers began glowing once again. Unlike the last time she had sifted through your memory, this left you feeling hollowed out and empty inside.

“Are you shitting me?” Wanda asked in surprise when she’d finished, her fingers returning to their normal hue. “Is he a fucking moron?!” You couldn’t help but bark out a quick laugh at her response; it was rare for Wanda to ever use profanities, especially in reference to another person, let alone another member of your team, but it was nice to know that you weren’t alone in your assessment of Bucky’s actions.

Before either of you could say anything else, your bedroom door flew open and Natasha came bursting through. “I swear to God, Wanda, this better be a legit emergency, because I was just about to—” She paused at the sight of the two of you sitting facing each other on the couch, expressions forlorn.

“What did I miss?” she asked cautiously.

“Come help me clean the bathroom, Nat, and I’ll explain.” Wanda stood and held out a hand to Natasha. She turned back to look at you. “Rest a little bit. We’ll be right in the other room if you need us,” she said before pressing a kiss to the top of your head. Nat cast you a confused look before following Wanda into the en-suite and you sighed heavily. You were exhausted and you couldn’t believe the turn the night had taken. Where were you even going to go from here?

The worst part was, the only person you wanted to talk to was Bucky— not the Bucky who had said those horrible things, who had betrayed you, but the Bucky who had been your best friend, who you had trusted with all the dirty details of your past, who you thought understood you better than anyone else in the world.

Where had he gone, and who was this stranger that had taken his place?

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to keep the tears from falling once again.

“Are you FUCKING KIDDING ME?” Nat shouted from the bathroom. In seconds, she was storming back into the bedroom and out the door. “I am going to kill him,” she muttered to you before leaving, and a few seconds later, you could hear her banging on Bucky’s door across the hall.

“Oh dear,” Wanda said, coming out of the bathroom. “I should have anticipated that reaction from her.” She came to sit beside you as you both listened to the muffled shouting as Nat ripped Bucky a new one.

A wicked smile tugged at Wanda's lips, her green eyes sparkling with mischief. "Well, I did warn him. Barnes can't say he didn't see this coming."

You managed a weak chuckle and leaned back against the couch, feeling a little more grounded now, surrounded by your friends' protective wrath. It was oddly comforting, even if all you wanted was to be left alone to deal with your own heartbreak.

"He'll survive," Wanda said dismissively, her fingers absently tracing winding paths in the plush fabric of your robe. Her gaze drifted back to you, her expression softening once more. "The more important question is...how are you doing?"

You took a deep breath and let it out slowly, your eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. How were you supposed to answer that? You felt like your heart had been ripped open and then stomped on, then fed back to you.

"Better than Barnes," was all you said, eliciting a choked laugh from Wanda.

"That's not much of an achievement, sweetheart."

"I know," you replied softly, eyes still fixed on the ceiling. "But it's the best I can do right now."

She smoothed your hair. “Would you like me to help you sleep, love?” You nodded, grateful for the assistance she was offering.

She took a glance at your bed. “Oh,” she said once she saw its stripped state. “Well, that won’t do.” She raised her hands and conjured up a luxurious bed set, with silk scarlet sheets and a downy scarlet duvet. “There,” she said, sounding pleased with herself. “That’s much better.”

You looked at your newly transformed bed in awe. “Is that, like, going to disappear at midnight or something?” you asked, transfixed by what you had just seen happen.

Wanda laughed softly. “I’m a witch, sweetie, not a fairy godmother. It’s permanent. Dry-clean only, but permanent.”

You exhaled, beyond impressed. “If I were you,” you said, awestruck, “I’d be using my powers for all kinds of evil.”

“I sincerely doubt that,” Wanda said with a smile. She waved her hand and conjured up a satin scarlet sleep set. “Why don’t you go change and I’ll turn down the sheets?”

You nodded, picking up the night clothes she’d created for you and headed to the bathroom to change. When you came out a moment later, you saw Wanda had conjured herself a matching sleep set. “You didn’t think I was going to leave you alone at a time like this, did you?” she asked. “We’ll make it a slumber party, and Nat’ll get a matching set when she comes back.

“Thank you, Wands,” you said, rushing toward her and embracing her.

“Of course, sweetie,” she said, patting your hair gently. “That’s what friends are for.”

You held each other for a moment, lost in the comfort Wanda provided. You were so grateful to have friends like her and Nat.

As if you’d conjured her with your thoughts, the door creaked open and Nat slunk through. She made a face at the sight of the two of you in your matching sleep sets and scowled when Wanda raised a glowing hand, transforming her clothing to match.

“We’re having a slumber party, Natasha,” Wanda said, as if that perfectly explained why she’d given Nat magic pajamas.

Nat’s expression softened. “Of course we are,” she said, coming over to the two of you and wrapping her arms around you both, effectively sandwiching you between her and Wanda.

“I hope you didn’t physically disable Barnes,” Wanda said. “Not that he didn’t deserve it, of course, but we’re already a man down.”

Nat snorted. “No physical violence needed,” she said, pulling back from the hug. “He’s beating himself up enough as it is.” She turned to you. “I don’t like saying this, because you know how much I hate the way he’s been treating you since Carthage showed up, but he knows how badly he fucked up. I’m not saying you should forgive him– you’re the only one who can make that decision, but once you’ve taken some time to process everything, I think you should talk to him.”

You swallowed and nodded. You couldn’t fathom doing it right now, but you knew you’d have to eventually.

“That’s a lovely painting,” Wanda said, nodding her head toward where Twilight in the Tropics sat on your desk, and you were grateful for her for changing the topic. “Where did it come from?”

“Looks like a Stark Apology to me,” Nat said, then chuckled when you nodded.

“Let’s get you to bed, Pocket,” Wanda said. “It’s been a long night and you must be exhausted.”

God, but you were. Every fiber of your body ached as you crawled into bed between Wanda and Nat, the new, magic silk sheets feeling delicious against your skin, and the duvet enveloping you like a cloud.

“Now, about that painting,” Wanda said, raising her hands again. “I think you deserve a little show after everything you’ve been through tonight, don’t you?” As her hands glowed, the lights dimmed and the painting lit up and came to life, as though you were looking through an open window onto the living scene as Frederic Church had painted it in 1874. The moonlight rippled on the water, the wind whispered through the palm fronds, and the sounds of a tropical night filled your room. It was breathtaking.

“Holy shit,” Nat said in a hushed, revenant voice.

“Thank you, Wands,” you whispered, squeezing her hand on top of the duvet. “This is amazing.”

“Let it lull you to sleep, sweetie,” Wanda said, squeezing your hand back. “Goodnight, Pocket. Good night, Natasha.”

“Night, Wands,” you said, feeling a small smile touch your mouth. “Good night, Natty.”

“Night, Wanda,” Nat said, stifling a yawn. “Night, Pocket. Tomorrow will be better. I promise.”

Chapter 14: Unfiltered

Chapter Text

You didn’t leave your room for a week, only letting Nat and Wanda in, and even then, just for short intervals. You spent your days talking to FRIDAY, trying to process what had happened that night with Bucky, and your nights sobbing for everything that you’d lost, and everything you’d now never have.

On the seventh day, you left your room, knowing that it was time to talk to him. Putting it off any longer wouldn’t do either of you any good. You weren’t fully prepared, but then again, you figured you probably would never be. Not really.

You bit your lip as you knocked on his door, fingers toying with the cuff of the long-sleeved shirt you were wearing, not wanting Bucky to see the healing welts you’d rubbed into your skin. There was a part of you that was convinced he would answer the door in a state of undress, with Jade naked in his bed. You’d probably just throw yourself off the top of the Tower if that happened. Insult to injury, and all that.

But the Bucky that answered the door was a Bucky you had never seen before– he hadn’t shaved in days, the bags under his eyes were the heaviest you’d ever seen them, his hair greasy as though he hadn’t washed it since the last time you saw him. He was wearing a white tank top, stained yellow with perspiration, and his eyes were red and bloodshot, as though he’d also spent the last seven days in tears. He looked worse than you’d ever seen him look before.

“Pocket,” he breathed when he saw you standing there before him, a touch of awe in his voice as though he didn’t fully believe you were real.

“You look like shit, Barnes,” you said, matter of factly. You weren’t sure why you felt the need to tell him that, but you wanted him to know, all the same.

He barked a humorless laugh. “Look like shit, feel like shit, because I am shit,” he said. “What are you doing here? Not that I’m not happy to see you,” he amended quickly, “cause I am; so happy. Just figured you’d want nothing more to do with me after what I did. I know I wouldn’t.”

“Came to talk,” you told him, clutching your elbow with one arm. The tension between the two of you was thicker than it had ever been, and it made the air feel difficult to breathe.

“You did?” Bucky asked, his eyes going wide with surprise, and a little bit of hope. “Yeah, come in, come in.” He moved aside, ushering you into his room. You looked around; it had been ages since you’d been inside, and you’d forgotten how sparse the space had been. The room smelled stale. You noticed a pile of blankets and pillows on the floor and sighed.

“Back on the floor?” you asked, not turning to look at him.

Bucky rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, well… don’t sleep so great on my own anymore, I guess.”

You turned to look at him, a heavy beat of silence hanging between you.

“Look,” you said eventually, at the same time he said “Listen.” You nodded at him, indicating he should speak first.

Bucky motioned to a chair, and you sat down, perched at the edge of the seat, not comfortable enough to relax into it. “Listen,” he began, “I’ve had a lot of time over the last week to think about my actions, and I’ve spoken a lot to Raynor; she helped me work through some stuff, and I owe you an explanation.” You raised your eyebrows at him, and he was quick to add: “An explanation, not an excuse. So, here goes: back when you said I was having an ‘emotional affair’ with Carthage, I didn’t take you seriously, and I’m sorry. Truth is, I had no idea what that even was, that it was an actual thing. The concept didn’t even exist in my time, so the words didn’t mean anything to me. I just thought you were making something up, being jealous, blowing things out of proportion, looking for a reason to be mad at me.

“But after the other night, Nat brought up the words again, told me I was having one with Carthage, so I got on the computer and looked it up. And you were right. You were right this whole time, and I’m so sorry. I swear to you that I never touched her, but I got too close to her, let her get too close to me, and I was prioritizing her over you again and again. I knew it was hurting you, but I kept telling myself that you were overreacting, because she and I were just friends. I hadn’t touched her, never thought about touching her, so I couldn’t see where I’d done anything wrong, and you were getting upset over nothing. I realize now how fucked up that was, how wrong. How, every time I chose to spend time with her over you, I was betraying you, betraying our relationship. I see that now.

“I shared shit with her that I didn’t share with you. At first, I told myself it was because you wouldn’t understand– things about Hydra, things about my past– but she would, because she’d lived it, too, you know? But then, it turned into telling her about my nightmares, my feelings, our relationship. Things I never shared with you, because I didn’t want to change the way you saw me; same reason I never shared them with Steve. I convinced myself that I was protecting you from even more of my trauma but, the more I talked to her, the more I…” he paused and swallowed, as if the next words were going to be physically painful, “the more I began resenting you. She told me that, if I was honest with you about everything, if you knew the full extent of the things I’ve done, what I’m capable of, then you wouldn’t want me. And she got me believin’ it.”

“Bucky,” you said, your voice as hoarse with pain from his words as if you’d been screaming, “I have never judged you for the things Hydra made you do. When have I ever given you reason to believe that I’d accept anything less than every part of you, the dark and the light?”

“You didn’t, sweets,” he said, bowing his head. “You never did. But you know I’ve always thought you were too good for me. Carthage got in my head, fed that fear. Made me think that she was the only one who truly got me, understood me, better than you, better than Steve, because she’d lived it, too. How could she judge me when she’d been made to be just as rotten?”

You were speechless. First, that he had carried all that inside, despite how much you had begged him to be open with you, and second, that he’d once again taken Jade’s word, her opinion, above your own. That he had taken her at face value and didn’t come to you, to talk to you, to see if you truly felt the way he was just assuming you did.

“I knew she wanted me,” he continued as he toyed with the metal fingers of his vibranium hand, and despite your intense desire to interject, to blow up at him, you did your best to keep quiet, to let him say what he needed to say. “Maybe not consciously at first, but she wasn’t subtle about it. I… I liked the attention. It made me feel good, knowing that there was someone else out there, not just you, who could be attracted to me, after everything I’d done. That there was more than one person who thought I deserved love.”

You wanted to say something, to speak up and tell him how fucking stupid he’d been, how utterly unfair to you, but the words wouldn’t come. You’d lost your will to fight.

“All of that, the understanding, the attention, the acceptance– I… I don’t want to say I became addicted to it,” Bucky said, “but I definitely didn’t want it to stop, to give it up. It was easier for me to convince myself that you were the one with the problem; that you were trying to keep me from being friends with the one person who I thought really got me, because you were jealous. I didn’t allow myself to think there was any chance you were justified, because that would mean I had to admit I’d been in the wrong, that I’d have to give up her friendship. I didn’t want to do that, so I dismissed your concerns.

“The worst part was, I wasn’t oblivious to the way she treated you. I heard her jabs, saw how obnoxious she was, but I figured ‘if I’m still going home with Pocket every night, if I’ve never touched Carthage, then why does it matter?’. The things she did, the stuff she said, it was meaningless to me, because I knew I was never going to leave you for her. I didn’t stop to consider that you didn’t know that, that I hadn’t been doing my part to prove it to you, that I was giving you so much cause to doubt me.”

Bucky looked up to the ceiling and closed his eyes, letting out a heavy sigh. Steeling himself. You held your breath; absolutely terrified to hear what he might say next.

“The truth of it… fuck, this is so hard to admit… The truth of it is that a part of me liked that you were jealous of her. It made me feel… wanted, like I was worth something, like I had value. God. It sounds fucked when I say it out loud. I’m so sorry, Pocket.”

You just stared at him. If he thought it was hard to admit, how fucking difficult did he think all of this was for you to hear?

“Let me make sure I understand this properly,” you said, hearing every ounce of exhaustion you felt in your voice, “You knew she had feelings for you, but you didn’t want to take my concerns seriously.” Bucky opened his mouth to interject, but you interrupted. “No, Barnes. I let you talk. It’s my turn. You knew her actions were hurting me, but they boosted your ego too much for you to stop them. You resented me because you didn’t think I could fully understand you, but you kept things from me out of some misguided duty to ‘protect’ me. You were angry at me for being jealous of Carthage, but you wanted me to be, because it made you feel good. You saw how badly she treated me, but you did nothing to stop it because it wasn't directly affecting you. Do I have that all correct?”

Bucky groaned and leaned over, putting his head in his hands. “Fuck,” he grumbled. “Yeah. God, I’m a fucking piece of shit.”

You didn’t know if he was looking for you to reassure him that wasn’t the case, but in the moment, you happened to wholeheartedly agree, so you didn’t address it. Instead, you asked: “Is there anything else you need to tell me?”

Bucky nodded sadly. “Sometimes,” he said, closing his eyes and taking another deep breath, “sometimes I thought about what it would be like to date her.” You clenched your fist, nails digging painfully into your palms. He opened his eyes again. “I wondered if she would make me happy, if being with her would be easier. You and I were fighting so much by that point, I started wondering if maybe the grass was greener, but every time I thought about it just felt wrong, a perversion. I knew, no matter how bad you and I were fighting, I could never be happy with her, because she wasn’t you. I meant what I told you– in seventy five years, it’s only been you. You’re it for me.”

It was your turn to close your eyes. God, you wanted to believe he was telling you the truth, that you really were it, but… he had just made it so fucking hard to believe him.

“She asked me to leave you,” he said abruptly. Your eyes flew open, and you stared at him. You weren’t sure what expression was on your face, but it must have distressed Bucky, because he immediately began clarifying.

“I didn’t agree to it!” he said, speaking rapidly, as if to make sure he got out everything he needed to say before you realized you’d had enough and walked out. “It was when she asked me to come to the med bay. When she was having her panic attack. Or, I guess, when she claimed she was having a panic attack.” You raised an eyebrow; you’d warned him she was most likely faking, using his protective, caring nature to manipulate him. Yet another time he’d put her word ahead of yours.

He continued: “She begged me to break up with you. Said she heard us fightin’ all the time, that it wasn’t healthy. Claimed you were trying to control me by dictating who I could or couldn’t spend my time with-- that you were being just as bad as Hydra. Kept tellin’ me I deserved someone who trusted me, someone who understood me. Someone like her.” Bucky sighed. “The fact that I’d behtaved in a way that made her think it would even be a possibility, that I would even consider it– it made me sick. I didn’t want to believe that I had been so obtuse, and that it was my fault you kept hurtin’, but there was the evidence, right in front of me, and I couldn’t argue it away to myself anymore.”

“But you still stayed with her all day,” you said quietly. “You could have come back to me, and we could have gone Upstate like we were supposed to. But you chose to put her ahead of me, again.”

Bucky swallowed and looked up at you through his lashes. “I was fucking stupid,” he said eventually. “I didn’t want to admit to myself that I’d made such a colossal mistake. Told myself that, if she confessed her feelings to me, and I still just tried to be a good friend, then I wasn’t guilty of anything, even though, deep down, I knew that was bullshit.”

“So, you just kept putting her first in an effort to, what? Convince yourself you weren’t putting her first?” You rubbed your eyes. “Bucky, that’s a lot of fucking mental gymnastics to try to get yourself off the hook for being an asshole.”

“And I fucking hate myself for letting it get to that point,” he said desperately. “Everything I did as the Winter Soldier– none of that compares to the regret I feel for what I ended up doing to you. I don’t know how to begin making amends for that.” He caught your eye, holding your gaze steady in his.

“And as for the other night… The things I said… I know it doesn’t fix it, doesn’t make it right, but I swear to you, I didn’t realize how messed up it was. I should have, I get that now, but everyone’s just… so much more open about sex and all that than they were when I was younger. I thought, maybe this is just how people talk to one another now, maybe this is normal, and I just hadn’t caught up with it yet. She was so eager to talk about it, and I didn’t know where the lines were anymore, or even if the lines still existed.”

“That shit was beyond hurtful, Bucky,” you told him, trying not to let yourself get emotionally swept up in the memory. “I’ve never felt more degraded or ashamed than I did that night.”

“And I am so, so sorry for that, love. I hate that I made you feel that way. I didn’t mean a word of what I said to you. You know I don’t think of you like that– I never have– she was so good at convincing me that it was normal, that it was something every girl liked, and I was dumb enough to believe her. It felt disgusting to say, shoulda known how disgusting it woulda been for you to hear it, but I swear on my ma’s grave, I only ever did it because I thought it was my last chance to keep you, to make you want to stay with me. Thought if I gave you something different, you wouldn’t want to leave me. Only other girls I’ve talked to since I came outta cryo for good, I can count on less than two hands– Nat, Wanda, Pepper, Shuri, Okoye, Ayo, Carthage, and you, so I didn’t really have a lot of resources to pull from.”

“But why would you even need to think we needed something different?” you asked. “It’s not like you ever left me unsatisfied.”

“The same stupid thing,” he said. “I trusted Carthage. I told her you and I hadn’t been spending as much, uh, personal time together as we used to, and she said maybe you were gettin’ bored of me. Maybe I wasn’t doin’ enough to please you, keep you happy in bed. She said couples needed to spice things up to keep it interesting, and when you said you were breaking up with me, it was my Hail Mary play. I was terrified of losing you. I get now that she was just stirring shit.”

You sighed. “You should have come to me,” you said. “About all of it. Any of it. We could have had a chance if you’d been upfront with me from the beginning, about everything. But you chose her over me, time and time again.” You stood up to leave, having heard enough.

“So, it’s really over then?” he asked mournfully. “There’s really nothing I can do to fix this mess? To get you back?”

You rubbed your temples with both hands. “I can’t stress enough how much you’ve hurt me, Bucky.”

“And I’m so sorry, doll,” he said. “I’d give anything to make it right. Just tell me what you need me to do, and I’ll do it. I love you.”

“See, that’s the thing,” you said, giving him a sad smile. “Love’s not enough. I just don’t trust you anymore. I want to. Fuck, I want to so badly, it hurts, but you’ve broken me. And some cracks, you can’t fix.”

Bucky choked back a sob. “But you’re my best friend,” he said. “I can’t not have you in my life. There’s gotta be something I can do to re-earn your trust. Just name it.”

You heaved a sigh. He was your best friend, too, and frankly, you missed him like that. You didn’t know how long it would take to trust him again, or if you’d ever even be able to, but you couldn’t not give him a chance to try. You still loved him too much for that. You had one idea, though you doubted very much that he would agree to it.

“You want to earn back my trust?” He nodded vehemently. “Cut all contact with her. No more training, no more runs, no missions. No more communication between you, at all. No conversation, no calls, no texts, nothing. You see her in the halls, you pass by like she doesn’t exist. She’s invisible. A ghost. She tries to initiate, you turn away. She touches you, you put that serum to use and you run in the other direction. For all intents and purposes, she is dead to you. You give her such a cold shoulder, she thinks she’s back in fucking Siberia. Prove to me that she’s nothing to you. Really and truly nothing. Prove to me that you really meant it when you said you’d choose me over her every time, and I might consider giving you a chance to fix this. I’m not saying we’ll end up back together, but maybe we could be friends again. Think you can do that?”

Bucky nodded vehemently and reached for his phone. “I’ll just text her right now and tell her I can’t speak to her anymore.”

“No,” you said, putting a hand out to cover his phone. “She doesn’t get the courtesy, and you don't get to pin this on me. You cut her out cold turkey, immediately, otherwise this is never going to work. You have to want to do that.” Bucky seemed to hesitate “It’s a limited-time offer, Barnes. Either you accept it, right now, or we’re finished. Your choice.”

Bucky nodded, his face resolute. “Okay,” he said, putting his phone back down. “I accept.”

Well. That was surprisingly easy. In fact, it seemed a little too easy. Sure, maybe his intentions were good, but, given his actions in the past, you were going to need more assurances than just his words.

“Actually, you know what?” you asked, holding out your hand, “give me your phone.”

“What for?” Bucky asked, looking surprised.

“Well, first I’m going to go through your messages with her,” you told him, matter of factly, “and then I’m going to block her number so you can’t contact each other.”

“That seems like an invasion of privacy,” Bucky protested cautiously.

You rolled your eyes. “There’s privacy, and then there’s secrecy, Barnes. You’ve already proven yourself a little too comfortable with the latter, so you can’t really expect me to offer you much of the former right now, can you?” You took a few steps toward the door. “Your hesitation is telling me all I need to know.”

“Wait, doll, no!” Bucky said, moving to come between you and the door. He held out his phone. “Here. Do… do what you need to do, just…” he swallowed, “just… know you’re probably not going to like everything you see.”

Fucking wonderful. You eyed him narrowly before taking the phone and returning to sit down. With a heart full of trepidation, you entered your birthday, unlocking the screen, and navigated to his SMS app.

Chapter 15: Undermined

Chapter Text

There were hundreds of texts. Possibly thousands. You honestly had no idea he had been communicating with her this way so consistently. The first thing you did was check his deleted texts, but the folder was empty– though you doubted Bucky even knew how to delete texts, you couldn’t be positive he hadn’t picked it up somewhere. You made a mental note to yourself to hack into his phone’s data from your laptop later and check his phone records, and then hated yourself for having to resort to something so controlling. God, who was he turning you into?

The texts started innocently enough– questions about training schedules, protocols, general life in the Tower. All perfectly reasonable inquiries one would make to their new superior officer. But then came the requests– fixing her lights in her room, would he eat breakfast with her because she was so lonely? They began texting each other good morning and good night… every day.

She started calling him “sexy” and “handsome” as a way of greeting him. He never encouraged it, or reciprocated, but he never shut it down or told her it was inappropriate, either.

Then, there was the evening after the Central Park fiasco.

Vix: It was really mean of you to make me walk all the way back to the Tower by myself, you know.

>> I know. I’m sorry. I just needed to talk to Pocket alone.

Vix: I could have been assaulted or kidnapped!

>> lol You’re a super soldier. You could wipe the floor with anyone who tried.

Vix: Aww, thanks Jamie <3

Vix: Did your girlfriend get over her temper tantrum?

>> She had a right to be upset. It was shit of me to forget about her like that.

Vix: What is she? A golden retriever?

>> lol

Vix: She was alone for, like, five minutes. She’ll survive.

Vix: If you ask me, she was just looking for an excuse to be mad at you.

Vix: She obviously doesn’t trust you, which is so hypocritical.

>> What do you mean?

Vix: Come on, Jamie. You don’t really buy her whole bullshit story about her ‘friendship’ with Stark, do you?

Vix: I don’t care how rich he is. *No one* shells out that kind of money for someone’s education without expecting something in return. She obviously fucked him.

>> She told me it wasn’t like that.

Vix: Don’t tell me you believe her! I know you’re not stupid.

>> Yeah, well of course I wondered.

“What the fuck, Bucky?” you asked, your voice rising as you stood up to face him.

“Uh, which part?” he asked sheepishly.

“There’s more than one part that would have me asking ‘what the fuck’?” you asked, disgusted. Bucky just kind of shrugged his shoulders. “You seriously think I slept with Tony?!”

“Oh, that!” Bucky looked relieved, and that concerned you, because if he was relieved that that was what you were upset about, what the hell else was in those texts? “I wondered about it when you first told me he paid for your school,” he said. “Back before we were really friends. But you said that you didn’t, and I believe you. I’ve always believed you.”

“Well, your text to Carthage sure makes it sound like you don’t believe me,” you argued. “Like you’re still wondering.”

“That wasn’t my intention,” he said softly.

“Yeah, well, and I say this with all the lack of respect it deserves,” you snapped, “your intentions are shit.”

Bucky looked down at the floor, no longer meeting your gaze. “Fuck,” you said, “I don’t even know if I want to read the rest of these,” you told him. “If that was something ‘well intentioned’ but there’s still things you expect me to get upset about.”

“No,” said Bucky, looking back at you now, “please– I want you to read them. I don’t want to have any more secrets from you.”

You sighed and sat back down. “I’m not even going to touch on you laughing about her calling me a literal dog,” you said as you picked up the phone and started reading again.

There were several selfies from Jade to Bucky of her in various skimpy outfits, asking for his opinion. Completely inappropriate, in your opinion, but Bucky would just respond with the thumbs up emoji, or occasionally “nice,” or “pretty.”

What really got to you, though, were the late night texts. You noticed some of the timestamps on Bucky’s end were from hours after you would have fallen asleep. The idea of him texting her in the middle of the night, in the dark, while lying next to your sleeping body repulsed you, and you had to suppress a shudder.

What was worse was the context of them– it wasn’t anything salacious or sexual, no– it was his vulnerability. His personal thoughts and feelings, memories of his past and descriptions of his nightmares that he refused to share with you, telling you they were too dark, or that he couldn’t remember them. Even now, you skimmed over what he had written without really reading them, knowing that he hadn’t wanted you to be privy to those parts of him. It broke your heart to see him being so open with her, so lacking in defenses, when you had literally been right there, yet he’d kept you at arm’s length, all without you knowing it.

Vix: What did you tell her about the sparring match?

>> The truth. It was just an intense practice session.

Vix: So you didn’t mention your hard-on, then?

>> That was just a physical reaction. The adrenaline from the fight. It had nothing to do with you.

Vix: lol Keep telling yourself that, Jamie.

>> Vix.

Vix: Relax, I’m just teasing xoxo

>> Yeah, I know.

Your hands were shaking. “I fucking knew it,” you seethed.

“Knew what?” Bucky looked like a deer trapped in headlights.

“That fucking sparring match,” you said through clenched teeth, your eyes beginning to water. “I fucking knew there was something sexual going on between you two, and you lied to my god damned face! And then, what? You fucked me with the erection she gave you? God, I knew you looked guilty. I could see it in your fucking eyes!”

“Okay, yes, but no!” Bucky said. “Yeah, I felt guilty because I got hard during the fight, and I was worried you saw it, but it really didn’t have anything to do with her! It’s… it’s a thing that happens to me, sometimes. Doesn’t matter who I’m fighting with. It’s, uh, happened when I’ve sparred with Steve– ” You shot him a look, skeptical. “I swear; you can ask him!” he continued. “It… look, I’m pretty sure it’s a hold out from the… things… Hydra did to me. When they were turning me into the Winter Soldier. The details are hazy, the memories aren’t all there, but… I have… flashes… how they used to, uh, stimulate me, to get me to do what they wanted me to do.”

You looked at him, waiting for more details, but he didn’t offer them. He obviously still didn’t trust you with those parts of himself, even now.

“But, I swear to you– as soon as I saw that look on your face, it was gone. I felt awful, knowing what you would think if you’d noticed. That killed it, instantly. When we were together, later, that was all because of you. It was all for you.” He took in your expression. “You don’t believe me.”

“Seems to be a pretty convenient excuse, don’t you think?” you asked. You felt like a bitch, on the off chance he was telling you the truth, if his erection had been based on the conditioning of decades of sexual abuse on top of the physical and psychological trauma he had endured, but he’d eroded your trust so thoroughly, you couldn’t help but doubt.

“You think I’d lie to you about something Hydra did to me?” he asked you, hurt. “Something like that?” You could hear the unanswered question in his voice: Something horrible we’ve both been through?

You shrugged, knowing you were being cruel. “How should I know? I’m not the one you’ve been sharing your secrets with, so I don’t know what’s the truth and what’s another lie.”

Bucky grimaced, and you couldn’t help but feel guilty. You, of all people, knew how shameful discussing sexual abuse could make one feel, but you’d always been honest and open with him about what had happened to you, because you had trusted him. It was hurtful to know he’d been through something similar and hadn’t afforded you the same trust in return, even though you knew you had no right to demand it of him. But he had given it so freely to her.

You went back to the texts, hoping you had read the worst, but dreading there was still more to come.

He told her about your fights. That was difficult to read, knowing that he had made her privy to the lowest points in your private relationship, and how she must have been eating it up.

>> I just don’t know what more she wants from me.

>> What more she expects me to do.

>> One minute she’s furious with me, and the next minute, she’s saying she doesn’t care.

Vix: She’s messing with you. Fucking with your emotions to show she can control you.

Vix: Why do you keep putting up with this?

>> I don’t know. Sometimes I

Vix: ???

>> Nevermind.

Vix: What, Jamie? You can tell me anything. I’m here for you.

>> Sometimes I just wish she was maybe a little more like you. More understanding.

You stared down at the screen, unable to move.

“Pocket?” Bucky asked, noticing you hadn’t scrolled in a few minutes.

“You don’t know why you keep putting up with me?” you asked him, voice barely above a whisper. “You wish I was more like her?”

“I was upset,” he said, crouching down in front of you. “That was the night before she went to Malaysia, after I left our room, but before I picked her to go to Gino’s. When I could tell you were pulling away, and I didn’t know why. I didn’t really mean it; it was just venting because you had me so confused.”

You stared off into the middle distance as Bucky tried to make eye contact with you, unable to look at him. “I feel like there’s this whole entire side of you you’ve been hiding from me,” you said, speaking to and through him simultaneously. “I don’t know this version of you, at all. And I don’t think I want to.”

“Doll,” Bucky grasped your hands, desperation entering his voice, but you didn’t have the energy to pull away. “Those texts aren’t me. You know me. You know my heart.”

You met his eyes then, the look you gave him full of loss, betrayal, and heartache. “I don’t think I do.”

Bucky’s face cracked; you’d never seen him look so defeated. He took the phone from you and scrolled to the very bottom of the text thread, to the most recent exchange the two had had, from the night of her ‘panic attack.’ Wordlessly, he handed the phone back to you.

Vix: Please, Jamie. I could treat you so much better than she can.

>> I told you, Vix. I’m not going to leave her. I love her.

Vix: But all you do is fight. I can hear you from my room, you know. I know you’re not happy.

>> We fight because of *you*. Please don’t make this difficult. I don’t want to ask Steve to reassign you for training.

Vix: Please don’t do that! I just want to be with you. I could make you so happy.

>> *She* makes me happy. She’s all I want. I’m sorry if that hurts your feelings, but it’s how I feel. I’m never gonna love anyone the way I love Pocket. That’s just the way it is.

Vix: You can’t deny there’s something between us!

Vix: I know you feel it!

Vix: We could keep it a secret. She doesn’t need to know.

Vix: You could have both of us.

>> Stop. I don’t want you. And to be honest, I’m disgusted you’d even suggest I cheat on the love of my life.

Vix: You don’t mean that!

>> I do. You need to accept it.

His last message was followed by a barrage of texts from Jade, begging him to respond to her, but he hadn’t. You supposed, in a way, that should make you feel better, but you were so emotionally exhausted, you couldn’t feel much of anything. All you knew was that you should have never read those messages.

“This… this is a lot to process,” you finally said, looking at Bucky. “I don’t really know what to do here.”

Bucky frantically tapped at his phone screen. “Block her number,” he said. “If cuttin’ her out’s what it’s going to take for me to start rebuilding your trust, then I’ll gladly do it. Pozhaluysta, Pocket.” Please, Pocket.

Mechanically, you went through the motions of blocking Jade’s number from Bucky’s phone. “I… don’t know if this is going to be enough, Bucky,” you told him, handing it back. “Those things I read just now… They’re honestly making me question everything. Our entire history.”

“I’ll do whatever it takes,” he said, putting his forehead to yours. “If this is just step one, then it’s step one. I’ll take however many steps you ask me to until I make this right.”

“You’ve gotta be one hundred percent on this, Buck,” you said. “Because if you’re not, if I find out that you couldn’t keep this promise to me, there’s no coming back. You’ll be the one who’s so iced out, it’ll make Siberia feel downright tropical.”

Bucky grinned slightly. “I’m positive, sweets,” he said, putting a hand on top of yours. “You’re all I want, and I’ll spend the rest of my life proving it to you if I have to.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust him. It was just that, well, you didn’t fucking trust him. “FRIDAY?” you called.

“Yes, Ms. (Y/L/N)?”

“Please alert me any and every time Sergeant Barnes and Ms. Carthage have an interaction in the Tower going forward. I request audio and video footage be sent to me immediately should they cross paths.”

“Yes, Ms. (Y/L/N). For clarification, do you want alerts for physical, audio, or digital interactions to be sent to you?”

“All of it, FRIDAY,” you said, watching Bucky very carefully for any sign of discomfort or uneasiness over your course of action, but you saw none. “And do not allow an override without my express verbal consent and company password.”

The AI agreed and promised to alert you if any such interaction occurred.

“That was very thorough,” Bucky said, sounding somewhat petulant. “You really had to cover all the bases, didn’t you?”

“Well, I had to have someone I trust keeping an eye out on things,” you said pointedly. Bucky flinched, the expression on his face faltering.

“I am going to make this right, doll. I swear to you.”

“I’m tired of you telling me, Buck,” you said, really needing to drive your point home. “It’s your last chance to actually grow up and start to show me.”

*

The next several weeks passed by quietly. Or, rather, as quietly as living in a towerful of superheroes could be expected to be. You and Bucky danced around each other in a strange sort of limbo since you had officially broken up–almost two months ago, now– no longer lovers, yet not quite just friends. It was difficult. It was painful. He would say something, or give you that look, and you’d be so tempted to melt into his arms. Hell, or rip off his fucking clothes. But you’d remember everything that had happened, the way your life had been completely upended in the span of an evening, and the urges would vanish like smoke in the wind, and the walls would return around your heart.

You’d wanted to ask Steve about what Bucky had said– about getting erections when he sparred, but he was still ignoring you, not wanting to engage with you in any form of conversation that didn’t directly concern Avenger work. It was beyond frustrating, the length his cold shoulder had gone on for, but you couldn’t force him to engage with you.

There was, however, one person you could ask, though you were fairly confident Bucky would be furious at you for doing so. Oh well, you thought. If he didn’t want you asking questions about it, he should have never given you reason to question the things he told you in the first place.

“Hey, Sammy,” you said, cornering your friend in the training room after he finished a run on the treadmill.

“‘Sup, Baby Girl?” Sam wiped his brow with the hem of his shirt. “Come to watch Ole Sammy get all sweaty?”

“Ew, gross,” you shoved him playfully. “Not even a little bit. I have a question for you, though.” You handed him his water bottle, and he took it from you gratefully, chugging down a few swigs before looking back to you.

“Shoot,” he said. “I got all the answers.”

You chewed thoughtfully on your bottom lip, wondering how exactly you were going to word your inquiry. “You ever spar with Bucky?”

Sam slowly lowered his water bottle and eyed you suspiciously. “Why?” he asked you slowly.

“It’s a simple question, Sam,” you responded as you crossed your arms over your chest. “Have you sparred with him, or not?”

Sam narrowed his eyes, as though trying to determine whether or not you were luring him into some kind of trap. “I have,” he drawed out.

You raised a brow. “Anything… weird ever happen to Bucky when he really lets himself get invested in a fight?” you asked. “Anything… unusual?”

“So, he finally told you about that, huh?” Sam asked, mirroring your stance.

“I’m gonna need you to be more specific, Sam.” You put all of your weight onto one foot.

“Well, either you know, or you don’t,” Sam argued. “It’s not my secret to tell you.”

You were growing frustrated at his reticence to give you the information you were looking for. “Come on, Sam. Let’s just say Bucky told me something about something that occasionally happens to him when he fights, but I don’t know if I can believe him or not. I’d ask Steve, but he’s not speaking to me at the moment, so you’re my only way of confirming if what he told me is true or not. I need you to be straight with me. Please.”

Sam studied you, his expression unreadable. “What the hell happened between the two of you, Pocket?”

“Nothing I want to talk about right now, Sam,” you told him, your impatience beginning to show. “Are you going to tell me what I need to know, or not?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Sam said, finally giving in. “Alright. So, sometimes, when Tin Man really gets into the heat of it, he gets…” Sam coughed, clearly uncomfortable with the line of conversation, “excited.”

“Excited.” You rolled the word around in your mouth. “More specific, Sam.”

Sam rubbed his eyes. “Jesus Christ, Baby Girl. You gonna make me spell it out?” You nodded, eager for him to get on with it.

Sam’s eyes rolled heavenward, as though he were praying for the Lord to give him the strength to deal with you. “Sometimes he gets a fucking boner when he fights, alright? You happy now?”

You should be. You really should be. It meant there was one thing, at least, he’d been honest with you about. But it wasn’t nearly enough.

“Did he tell you why?” you asked, instead.

“You’re just asking me to break all kinds of confidences today, ain’t ya, Baby Girl?” You gave him a pointed look.

“Fine, fine,” Sam finally relented. “It was awkward as hell, the first time I noticed it happen, but Barnes said it was a leftover from the shit Hydra did to him when they were programming him to be the Winter Soldier. They wanted to make him… excited by the fight, aroused by it.” Sam shook his head, disgusted by what his friend had endured. “So, they did all kindsa shit to merge the two– sex and violence, until his body couldn’t tell the difference between ‘em.”

You blinked once, twice, three times at Sam’s words. You supposed you should feel grateful– here was confirmation Bucky’d spoken the truth to you, and you were fairly sure that Sam wouldn’t have lied to your face to save Bucky’s ass. And yet… and yet. Sam, and Steve, as well, had been privy to this part of Bucky’s past that he’d felt the need to keep from you. Even that thought brought you more conflict: if it was something Bucky had shared with Sam and Steve, it made the fact he’d shared it with Jade less significant. But, the angry voice in the back of your head insisted, he’d still chosen not to share it with you. And that still stung. Your thoughts just spun in circles.

“Got anymore horrifically awkward questions for me?” Sam asked, and you realized you’d been silent a bit too long.

“No,” you said, shaking your head as though to clear your thoughts. “Uh, that was it. Thanks, Sam. I appreciate it.” You turned to leave the training room.

“I’d say ‘any time, Baby Girl,’” Sam called after you, “but that was awkward as hell and I sure as shit never want to talk about Bucky’s erections with anyone ever again!”

*

True to his word (almost as though he were actually trying to make it a habit), Bucky kept his distance from Carthage. Several times, FRIDAY had alerted you that Bucky and Jade had crossed paths somewhere within the Tower, and you would review the footage with bated breath, always expecting to see the worst, as if they would strip off their clothes and start fucking in the common room. But you were relieved to see that he continued ignoring her, acting as though she truly did not exist, and it seemed to be driving her mad with vexation.

She was so perturbed by it that she eventually came to you looking for a way to get to him.

“I need to talk to Jamie,” she said, interrupting you mid-conversation with one of the scientists in your lab.

“Okay,” you said, dismissing the scientist. No reason multiple people should have to suffer through this. “Then talk to him. It’s a free country.”

“He isn’t speaking to me,” she pouted. “He’s acting like I don’t exist!”

“That sounds like a ‘you’ problem,” you told her, trying to keep the smile from your face. “I’m not sure what you want me to do about it. Or that I’d actually want to do anything about it, even if I could, if I’m being completely honest.”

“I just don’t know what I did wrong!” she whined. You sneered at that. How could she be so completely lacking in self-awareness? Especially to come to you, of all people, after the things she’d texted to Bucky, after trying to destroy your relationship.

“Would you like the list alphabetically, or in chronological order?” you asked.

She rolled her eyes at you. “You know, you should have just stayed away from him. Everything would have gone according to plan if he wasn’t so fucking obsessed with you.”

“According to plan?” you asked her, eyebrows shooting to the top of your forehead. “What the fuck do you mean by that?”

Jade seemed to stumble for words. “I– he– you knew I liked him when I first interviewed. And just to get back at me because I was maybe a little bit rude to you, you went and stole him for yourself!”

You sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose. You wondered if you should ask Tony for a raise, because while you were paid extraordinarily well, you sure as shit weren’t paid enough to deal with this. “Listen, Carthage,” you began, “because I’m just going to tell you this once: My relationship with Bucky started long before either one of us ever even knew of your existence.” Technically not a lie, just a small fudge on the truth. Friendship was a type of relationship, after all. “And it’s going to keep going long after both of us have forgotten your name.”

“You don’t understand what you’re putting me through!” she cried, tears forming at the waterline of her eyes.

You stared at her for a moment, unblinking. “What I’ve put you through?!” you asked her, clenching your fists to keep from punching her in that annoyingly pretty face– you knew that would lead to a fist fight you had no chance of winning. “You have been nothing but a thorn in my side since the moment you first walked into this Tower. Before you showed up, I was the happiest I’d ever been, but you had to come along and try to sink your claws into the man I love. You ruined my relationship; fuck, you ruined my life.”

You didn’t know what effect you expected your words to have on Jade, but you weren’t prepared for her insidious smile as you finished speaking. “Maybe you should be asking yourself, if Jamie loved you as much as you love him, why your relationship was so easy to ruin.”

With a flip of her hair over her shoulder, she was gone, leaving you alone, speechless and freshly betrayed all over again.

*

You were uncharacteristically quiet a few days later as you and Bucky were going over some documents for your upcoming mission. In all the time since he’d been on active duty, this would be the first mission the two of you would actually be going on together, and you were looking forward to it as an opportunity to spend some time reforging your bond as friends. Or, at least, you had been until your run in with Jade in your lab.

“Penny for your thoughts, Pocket?” Bucky asked, having taken note of your solemn behavior.

“Hmm?” you inquired, looking up from the document you had most definitely not actually been paying attention to, lost as you were in your own swirling thoughts.

“Something’s goin’ on in that pretty little head of yours,'' Bucky said with a smile. “Care to share with the rest of the class?”

You debated divulging the source of your concern with Bucky. On one hand, Jade remained a sensitive topic between the two of you, but on the other, you so longed to confide in your best friend. “Just something Carthage said to me the other day,” you told him eventually.

Bucky sighed and put down the document he’d been perusing. “Lemme guess- she said something that’s making you question how I feel about you?”

You shrugged, turning away from him so you wouldn’t have to meet his eyes.

“Sweetheart,” he said, placing a large, calloused hand over yours, “she’s trying to make trouble. She sees an opening right now, since you and I technically aren’t together at the moment, and since I refuse to even look at her, she’s gonna do whatever it takes to try and get under your skin, to get you to call it quits for good. She can’t manipulate me no more, so now she’s coming after you. You can’t let her get to you.” The way he said ‘technically’ told you he just saw the current state of your relationship as a temporary formality, a momentary blip in the correct order of things that would eventually be righted with time. It gave you hope.

“Yeah, you’re right,” you said, turning to face him. “She’s just trying to start shit.”

“That’s my girl,” he said with a smile, cuffing your chin. “I know I haven’t given you much cause to believe in me when it comes to how I feel about you of late, but I swear, I’m gonna keep doin’ the work to rebuild that trust until I prove to you just how much I love you. How important you are to me.”

“I know,” you told him, your voice soft. “And I want you to know that I do see the work, and I appreciate it. I’m hopeful that we can get back to where we used to be, eventually.”

“Me, too, darlin’,” Bucky said, returning back to the document he had previously discarded. “Me, too.”

Chapter 16: Unaccompanied

Chapter Text

The day you and Bucky were scheduled to leave for Moscow, you went to the dining room to say your goodbyes before boarding the Quinjet. The team was gathered around the large dining table when you walked in, plates of Thai food spread across the space.

“You ordered Thai?” you moaned. “Knowing that I’m about to spend hours in a tin can, stuck eating MREs for who knows how long, risking my life for truth, justice, and freedom, and you order Thai just as I’m leaving? I thought you were my friends! My family! Do I mean nothing to the lot of you?!”

“Relax, drama queen,” Nat said. “I’ll fix you a to-go container.”

“Thank you, Natasha,” you said. “You are a true friend.” You glared around the room at everyone else, pointing an accusing finger. “The rest of you, however… I will remember this.”

Bucky wrapped an arm around you and squeezed your shoulders. “Maybe we can make a detour in Thailand and get it straight from the source, doll,” he said with a laugh.

“I like your way of thinking, Barnes,” you said. Natasha handed you the to-go container and you did a little happy dance. “Thank you, Natty!” you squealed, opening up the container to take a sniff of the deliciousness contained within.

As soon as the scent of Khao Soi hit your nostrils, you were overcome with a wave of nausea. “Oh my God,” you groaned, shoving the container into Bucky’s arms and throwing your hands over your mouth. You sprinted toward the nearest bathroom and barely made it to the toilet before you were vomiting into the bowl.

As you heaved, you felt a cool, metal hand pull your hair away from your face and a warm flesh hand rubbing circles on your back. “You okay, doll?” Bucky asked, his voice full of concern as you heaved up the contents of your stomach.

“I think there’s something wrong with that Khao Soi,” you told him once your stomach muscles had stopped spasming. “Maybe the coconut was bad?”

Bucky grabbed a few squares of toilet paper and gently wiped at the sides of your mouth. “Gotta say, it smelled all right to me.” He placed a palm to your forehead. “You’re feeling a little warm. You sure you’re not comin’ down with something?”

“Maybe,” you said, giving it some thought. “I have been feeling really tired lately.”

“If you’re sick, you know can’t I can’t let you go on this mission,” Steve’s voice came from where he was standing in the doorway. “It’s a liability.”

This was the first time Steve had spoken to you in ages, and you couldn’t help but wonder if it had something to do with the fact that you and Bucky weren’t technically in a relationship anymore.

“I’m fine, Steve,” you said, but before you could further protest in favor of your good health, another wave of nausea overtook you and you were once again vomiting into the toilet bowl.

“It’s alright, baby,” Bucky said. “I can do the mission solo. It’s more important for you to rest and get better.”

You nodded, feeling miserable and completely drained now. “Will you help me back to my room, Buck?”

“Of course, sweets.” You flushed the toilet and Bucky helped you stand up. In an instant, he’d scooped you up, carrying you, bridal-style, back down to your room. He deposited you gently on the edge of the tub in your bathroom and poured you a cup of water.

“Here, rinse your mouth,” he said, offering you the glass, and you accepted gratefully. You swished the liquid through your mouth, rinsing away the acidic taste of bile before you spat the water out in the sink. While you were doing that, Bucky brought you a change of clothes, helping you out of your tac-suit and into one of his tee shirts and a pair of pajama pants.

“Better?” he asked as he tucked you into your bed.

You nodded, burrowing down into your scarlet comforter. Wanda had been right– it had been permanent, and it was now your favorite bedding. “Thanks, Buck,” you murmured. “I’m sorry we won’t be going on the mission together. I was really looking forward to it.”

“Me, too.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead. “But you’ve got nothing to apologize for. I just want you gettin’ better.” You smiled at him as he grabbed your hand and kissed it. “I hate leaving you like this.”

You laughed. “It’s just a stomach bug, Buck,” you said, squeezing his hand in return. “I’ll be right as rain when you get back, promise. But you better go before Steve comes banging the door down for you.”

“Is there anything I can get you before I go?” he asked, brows furrowed with worry. “I could make you some tea.”

“No,” you stifled a yawn. “But thank you. I’m wiped; I think I’m just going to take a nap. Puking is exhausting. We gonna do our calls?” you asked him. Each time one of you was away on a mission, you would call the other once a day, a kind of proof-of-life to ensure to the other you were safe. If a call wasn’t possible, you’d make sure to at least send a text, never wanting the other to worry more than necessary.

“Of course,” he said. He leaned down to kiss you, but you pulled away.

“Buck,” you whined, “I just threw up. You don’t want to kiss me right now.”

“Always wanna kiss you, Pocket,” he said, leaning in again. This time you let him, though you kept it from getting too deep. Yes, you knew you were blurring the lines of the new parameters you had set up for your relationship, but successful missions were never something to be taken for granted, so you would never pass up the opportunity for what could possibly be a last kiss.

“Alright, Barnes,” you said when the kiss broke, “get outta here before Steve comes in and drags your ass out.”

With a final wave, Bucky departed, leaving you alone to drift off, the discomfort in your stomach temporarily forgotten.

*

You woke up a few hours later. You felt a bit better, but an all encompassing fatigue still settled over your body. You stretched and grabbed your phone to check the time. Glancing at your phone’s screen, you saw you had multiple missed calls from Bucky, and text messages asking you to call him back as soon as you could.

Concerned, you hit the button to dial him back. He picked up immediately.

“Baby,” he breathed, sounding relieved. “I am so sorry, I have no idea how this happened, but I swear, I had nothing to do with it. I was fully prepared to go by myself, but—”

“Bucky,” you interrupted, “what are you talking about?”

“Fucking Carthage,” he seethed, and you could feel his anger through the phone. “She’s on the Quinjet with me. I told Steve I was fine going alone, but I set the autopilot for takeoff and she was just there. I’m so sorry, sweets. I know you got no reason to believe me, but I didn’t ask for this. I don’t want this. She’s the last person I want to be trapped in this bird with, let alone on a mission with. I locked myself in the fucking cockpit just to keep her the hell away from me.”

Your stomach dropped, but you could hear the anxiety and rage in his voice, and maybe you were stupid, but you truly believed this had taken him by as much surprise as it had taken you. “It’s okay, baby,” you told him after you’d taken a breath, not realizing you’d let the endearment slip through. “I believe you; it’s not your fault.”

“I promised you I’d cut her out,” he bemoaned. “This makes me a fucking piece of shit all over again, and I hate it. I hate what it must be doing to you right now. I’m so sorry.”

You were feeling nauseous again, though from your stomach bug or the current situation, you weren’t quite sure. “You can’t help this, Buck. It’s beyond your control, I get that. I really do. I know I can’t expect you to ignore her while you’re on a mission together. You don’t have to worry about breaking your promise to me right now, okay? It’s extenuating circumstances.”

“I’ll only talk to her about mission-related shit,” he promised. “I’ll ignore everything else, I swear.”

“Yeah,” you said, running a hand through your hair. “Yeah, that’s good. We can work with that, Buck. It’s okay; we can get through this.

“I’m so sorry, Pocket.” Bucky’s voice was mournful. “It’s another promise I made to you that I’m not keeping.

You talked to him for a while longer, reassuring him you didn’t blame him for the current state of affairs, and that you weren’t going to hold any contact he needed to have with her against him. Occasionally, you could hear Jade pounding on the cockpit door, and Bucky would shout that, if it wasn’t about the mission, he didn’t want to hear it.

After about an hour and a half, Bucky swore softly. “I’m sorry, sweets– looks like we’re heading into a storm. I’m gonna have to take the jet off autopilot and fly her manual til we’re through it.”

“Yeah, of course, Buck,” you said, knowing he was telling you he had to hang up. “Text me when you land, okay?”

“‘Course, doll,” he said, and you could hear him smile into the phone. “I’ll be doin’ everything in my power to get this mission over as soon as possible.”

“Just come home to me safe and sound, Barnes,” you told him. “That’s the important thing.”

“Always,” he said. “I’ll talk to you later.”

“Hey, Buck?” you asked, before he had a chance to hang up. “I love you, okay? So much.” You still did, despite everything, and you wanted him to know it.

“I don’t deserve you, sweetheart,” he said, “but I love you, too. More than anything.”

You said your goodbyes and were left in the quiet of your room. You needed to have a conversation with Tony, but before you set out to find him, you had one burning question you needed answered.

“Hey FRIDAY?” you called.

“Yes, Ms. (Y/L/N)?” came the disembodied Irish voice.

“Why didn’t you alert me when Sergeant Barnes and Ms. Carthage interacted aboard the Quinjet?” you asked.

“You asked for all interactions within the Tower,” FRIDAY replied. “The Quinjet does not technically meet the parameters of your request and thus was not included.”

You rolled your eyes. Of course the AI would get caught up in semantics. “Okay, fine. Adjust the parameters of the request to include any and all interactions occurring between the two on the Quinjet, as well,” you requested.

The AI agreed, and you let out a sigh. You felt terrible about essentially spying on Bucky, but the truth was, you still didn’t fully trust him again. You wanted to, more than anything, but you just couldn’t. You hated what you had become, what the situation, his actions, had turned you into. If you were the kind of girl who believed in a higher power, you’d be praying to any deity who would listen that this mission would be over before your anxiety got the best of you.

*

“Hey, kiddo,” Tony greeted you as you entered his lab. He was surrounded by bits and pieces of various tech, obviously in the middle of some experimentation. “How are you feeling? Obviously good enough to be walking around. I’m glad you’re here, actually– I have something I want to talk to you about.”

“I thought Carthage was benched, Tony!” you interrupted, ignoring his greeting. Rhodey had been making a slow, but steady, recovery, but as far as you knew, Tony had not lifted his blanket ban on keeping Jade grounded from further missions.

Tony frowned at you. “She is,” he said, giving you a puzzled look.

“Then why the fuck is she on the Quinjet with Bucky on the way to Moscow right this minute?” you asked, accusation clouding your words.

Tony put down the electronic components he’d been holding. “Well, I certainly didn’t approve it. I only just got you to forgive me. You think I want to willingly make you even more pissed?”

“Well, someone did,” you said. Your arms were crossed over your chest and you were pouting like a petulant child.

“I’ll look into it,” he promised, “but don’t overlook the possibility that she took it upon herself to stow away. Not just to get some alone time with Barnes, but to get herself back on the mission roster, too.”

You hadn’t considered that, but now that you did, you wouldn’t have put it past her at all. “Thanks,” you huffed.

“Why do you even care, though?” he asked. “I thought you two broke up. Can’t believe you still won’t tell me why, by the way.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose. “Because it’s not your business, Boss,” you told him. Truthfully, you wanted to confide in Tony, to tell him what Bucky had done, what he had said, so you could bask in the comfort you knew he would offer you, but you truly believed that, if he knew the full truth, there was a very good chance Tony would actually try to murder Bucky. You might not be prepared to fully forgive him, or be with him again, but you certainly didn’t want him dead. And honestly? The last time the two had gone up against one another, it hadn’t ended so well for Tony, either. You doubted Bucky would purposefully hurt him– he wouldn’t do that to you– but you’d never forgive yourself if Tony got himself injured because of you.

“Pfft,” Tony scoffed. “Not my business? What kind of pseudo-big brother would I be if I didn’t look out for my pseudo-little sister? Besides, you think I don’t already know it has to do with him and Carthage being a little too close?”

“Tony,” you warned. “Just find out how she got on that Quinjet, okay? Please?”

“Finnnnnne,” Tony conceded with a roll of his eyes. “You’re lucky I still feel guilty about that med bay incident.”

“Thank you,” you said. “I really appreciate it.”

“With that out of the way,” he said, sliding his rolling stool over to you, “I need a favor.”

You rolled your eyes. Leave it to Tony to ask for a favor in your moment of turmoil. “Go on,” you urged him.

“The annual shareholder gala is on Saturday,” he told you. You nodded, knowing that the event was upcoming. You’d been planning on being away on the mission, so you hadn’t given it much thought. “Big topic of conversation’s going to be your C-PAS. I want you to be there to talk it up, get the investors excited about it so they’ll open their wallets.”

“Ugh, Tony,” you groaned, “you know I fucking hate schmoozing. Can’t you do it? You’re so much better at bullshitting rich people than I am! Besides, I’m sick. What if I throw up on everyone important? Is that really a risk you’re willing to take? Think of the optics.”

Tony rolled his eyes at you. “We’ll load you up with anti nausea meds if we have to,” he reassured you, “so you’ll be fine for a couple of hours. Come on, Pocket. You’re my Chief Technical Officer. This program is your baby. No one is going to sell it as passionately as you. You know that. Don’t you want to show your hard work off?”

You considered it for a moment before dropping your arms and let out a groan. “Fiiiine,” you conceded. “But you’re really gonna owe me for this one, Stark.”

“I’ll buy you a pony,” he said with a smile.

“Oh my God, really?” you squealed. You knew he didn’t mean it, but you sure as shit were going to play into it.

“No,” Tony said, looking at you like you were a complete idiot. “Where the hell would we keep it?”

“I dunno.” Your expression turned into a sour pout. “You could buy a farm Upstate or something.”

“I suppose we could raise some sheep there,” he said thoughtfully.

“Oh my god,” you laughed. “That takes me back.”

Tony grinned at you. “So, all seriousness, what do you want in exchange for a few hours of your time on Saturday?”

“Buy me a new dress,” you said. “And shoes.”

“That’s it?” he asked, sounding somewhat disappointed, as though he’d expected you to ask for a yacht or some such thing. Maybe you did need to up your asking game.

“Okay, how’s this– new dress, shoes, handbag and jewelry, PLUS,” you added with a pointed look, “official write ups in Carthage’s file listing her as unfit to continue beyond her probationary period for recklessness and conduct unbecoming an Avenger. Enough to guarantee no amount of votes will allow her to stay.”

Tony put a hand on your shoulder. “My dear Pocket,” he said, smirk growing wider, “here I was hoping you were going to ask me for something difficult. It would be my pleasure.”

*

The gala had barely begun and you were already exhausted. Your stomach bug hadn’t let up, and you’d been vomiting for the last two days. Fortunately, you were able to get an injection of an anti-nausea medication from one of the interns down in the med bay, so even though you didn’t currently have to worry about puking your guts out on some obscenely wealthy financier, you just had to deal with the constant exhaustion you’d been feeling from your illness.

Just a few more hours, you told yourself as you brushed off the advances of yet another man old enough to be your father. Not once had anyone actually wanted to discuss the Crisis Prediction Algorithm System. It seemed you were being viewed more as potential arm candy than Stark Industries’ CTO. That alone was enough to leave you longing for an early night in your bed.

You did look amazing, though, you had to admit, even if you’d had to go a little heavy on the makeup to mask your pallor. When you asked Tony for a new dress, you’d anticipated taking the girls on a shopping trip. Tony, however, had other ideas and had sent a designer from one of the city’s top fashion houses to the Tower to collect your measurements, and then, the following day, a garment bag appeared in your room containing a striking dress in shimmering Iron Man-red. The bodice was form fitting and strapless, with an asymmetric neckline, and the skirt was full and came down to just below your ankles.

It was gorgeous, and when your hair and makeup had been completed, you looked like a princess straight out of a fairy tale. You’d sent a picture to Bucky and he’d immediately sent you back a series of panting emojis that had you laughing. The following string of text that described exactly what he wanted to do to you in the dress then had you panting, yourself. Fuck your parameters, apparently.

But now, you couldn’t wait to get out of it for an entirely different reason. The call of your pajamas was so alluring. Not only were you physically tired, but you were bored out of your mind. As this was a Stark Industries party, and not an official Avengers gathering, most of your friends had opted not to come. Rhodey was here, now almost fully recovered from his gunshot wounds, but Tony wouldn’t leave his side, so he was constantly being surrounded by people and you couldn’t really find an opening to go talk to him.

When you’d asked Nat and Wanda if they wanted to come with you, Wanda had politely declined, letting you know that she and Vision already had plans to go out of town for the weekend, while Nat just scoffed at you. “I would literally rather swallow broken glass, Pocket,” she’d said. “Those things are boring as fuck and there is not enough money you could possibly pay me to go to one, sorry.” She’d ended up going bar hopping with Clint and Sam, instead.

So, there you were, all by yourself, not even able to distract yourself with the elaborate spread of food that Tony had provided, as the thought of eating still turned your stomach, when you felt a hand at your elbow.

“Hey,” Steve said softly. His presence took you by surprise– you couldn’t even remember the last time you’d truly spoken to one another, aside from clipped conversations about work and missions. “That’s a lovely dress.” A slight blush tinted his cheeks. “How are you feeling, by the way?”

“Steve, hi. Um, I’m good, thank you. Just really tired. Not quite in the right headspace to schmooze, you know?” you asked him, trying to fight off the awkwardness you were feeling at speaking to him again after so long. “You look very dashing tonight.” And he did, with his dark navy suit and cream button-up.

He smiled, then held out a hand. “Would you care to dance?” he asked. You thought about it for a second. You didn’t want to lead him on, let him think you had any interest beyond the platonic relationship you’d always shared, but you were so fucking bored. One dance couldn’t hurt.

“I’d love to,” you said, taking his hand and letting him lead you to the dance floor.

He was surprisingly light on his feet, given his hulking frame, and he led you through the steps with ease. You somehow managed to only step on his toes twice, which gave you both a good laugh.

“I must have forgotten all my finishing school lessons,” you teased.

“Nah, you’re doing great.” Steve sent you out for a spin, but as he twirled you back into his arms, you were overcome with a wave of dizziness and stumbled. You felt your knees give out and your body begin to collapse in its exhaustion.

“Whoa,” said Steve, using his super soldier reflexes to grab you before you could fall and hold you steady. “I got you. You wanna sit down? Rest a bit?”

You nodded and he led you over to a quiet corner where some couches had been arranged for that very purpose. He guided you down to sit, then placed himself next to you, concern clouding his features.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you said. “Just, you know, between the nausea and the vomiting, I haven’t really been able to keep a lot of food down over the last two days. It’s got me so tired. I think I overdid it with a dance number.”

Steve chuckled, then stood up. “Let me go get you something to drink,” he said. “It’s important that you stay hydrated.” You nodded, and he was off.

With a sigh, you reached into your clutch and pulled out your phone, sending a quick text to Bucky, but knowing that, due to the time difference, he was probably sleeping.

>> I miss you.

You were quite surprised, then, when you saw the three dots appear almost immediately.

Magic Dick🍆🦾: Not that I don’t miss you too, because I desperately do.

Magic Dick🍆🦾: But aren’t you supposed to be living it up like Cinderella at the ball?

You chuckled at that before responding.

>> This Cinderella is tired and bored and would much rather be snuggled up in bed with her metal-armed Prince Charming watching a movie or literally any other activity aside from being at this ball unaccompanied.

Magic Dick🍆🦾: You better be talking ‘bout me, doll.

>> How many other metal-armed men do I have in my life, dipshit?

>> Why are you even awake, anyway?

Magic Dick🍆🦾: I’m just teasin’ you, smart ass ;)

Magic Dick🍆🦾: I’d much rather be curled up in bed with you doin any variety of bedly activities, too >:)

Magic Dick🍆🦾: And I’m up because we’re getting ready to act on our intel and raid the communications office we were sent to find.

Magic Dick🍆🦾: Hit 'em at dawn when they’re least suspectin’ it, ya know?

>> Jesus Christ, baby! Be careful!

Maybe it wasn’t a good thing you hadn’t gone on the mission– you didn’t even have the energy to imagine yourself having the energy to conduct a raid in your current state.

Magic Dick🍆🦾: Always, doll. Gotta get back to my best girl, don’t I?

>> You absolutely do. Cause if I found out you died, I will kill you.

Magic Dick🍆🦾: I have no doubt that if someone were to find a way to murder me from beyond my grave, it would be you.

Magic Dick🍆🦾: Shit. Sorry sweets, I gotta go.

Magic Dick🍆🦾: Try to have fun. I love you.

>> I love you too, Buckaroo.

You stared at the screen for a moment longer, but there was no further reply. Wonderful. Now you would be spending what little energy you absolutely did not have to spare worrying about Bucky’s safety.

Steve returned then, handing you a cold glass dripping with condensation. “It’s lemonade,” he said as you took a sip. “I know how much you like lemons.”

You smiled in thanks, but it came out more like a grimace. Steve noticed immediately.

“Are you alright? Does it not taste good? I could go get you something else…”

You put a reassuring hand on his arm. “No, Steve, the lemonade’s fine. Thank you for getting it for me; that was very thoughtful. It’s just,” you sighed, “I was texting Bucky. He and Carthage are running a raid on a communications office as we speak, and now I’m just nervous and worried about him.”

Steve’s brow creased. “Oh,” he said, though you could tell there was more behind the word than the single syllable would imply. “I didn’t realize the two of you had gotten back together.”

Fuck. You were by far too tired to be having this conversation. Squeezing your eyes shut for a moment, you decided it was time to confront the giant elephant that had been sitting between you and the Captain for far too long. “We haven’t, not officially, anyway, but that doesn’t mean that we don’t still love each other, in spite of everything that’s happened. We’re just working on building trust. Or rather, he’s working on building trust, and I’m working on determining if I can trust him again. It’s a process.”

Steve’s shoulders sagged, the movement so minute you would have missed it if you hadn’t been watching him so closely in the moment. You took a deep breath before you continued.

“Look, Steve,” you began, “I know about your feelings for me.” His eyes shot up to meet yours, and he opened his mouth to protest, but you gently held a hand up to stop him from speaking. You needed to get everything you had to say out while you still had the energy to do so. “I’ve known for a bit, and while I’m truly flattered, and honored, that you care for me, I’m also so sorry that I don’t feel the same way about you. You’re a good man. A wonderful man, and I know most people would tell me I’m an idiot for not reciprocating, but I just don’t share those feelings.”

“It’s because of Berlin, isn’t it?” he asked softly, not meeting your gaze, and for a moment, you could see the small, shy boy Bucky had told you about from his youth.

“Berlin altered our relationship, it’s true,” you told him, “but the nature of my feelings for you were cemented long before that. You’re my family, and do I love you, but I love you as a member of that family. The way I love Tony, and Nat, and Thor, but maybe a little better than I love Clint.” Steve chuckled softly at that, and you smiled, glad you could make him laugh even a little. “I’m sorry this isn’t the answer you want to hear, and I’m sorry that you’ve had to watch me be with your best friend. None of it was ever done with the intention of deliberately causing you pain, but at the same time, I need to do what’s going to make me happy, and I hope you can accept that, as my friend and a member of my family.”

Steve looked like he was going to argue with you for a moment, but he kept his mouth shut and just nodded. “Yeah,” he said eventually. “I can accept that. It hurts,” he chuckled humorously, “but I want both you and Bucky to be happy.”

“Thanks, Stevie,” you said, suppressing a yawn. “Holy shit, I’m tired. I think I’m going to call it a night. I put in enough time to fulfill my obligation to Tony.” You stood, but immediately stumbled, the motion of standing enough to make you dizzy.

Steve was instantly on his feet, an arm out to steady you. “I got you,” he said. He put a hand to your forehead, checking your temperature. “You don’t seem to have a fever, but I’m getting worried about you, Pocket. I should escort you down to med bay.”

You waved the suggestion off. “No, it’s fine. The last thing I want is a bunch of doctors poking and prodding at me all night. I’ll be fine, I just need to sleep.”

“You can barely even stand up on your own,” Steve protested. “Let me at least walk you back to your room. Make sure you get there without falling over.” You were going to tell him you’d be fine on your own when a wave of nausea overtook you.

“Yeah, okay,” you said, clutching tightly to his arm for support. You had planned on going over to Tony and Pepper to say a proper goodbye, but given the way you were currently feeling, an Irish one was going to have to do, instead.

Steve put a hand to your back and led you out of the banquet hall. You had to stop more than once to steady yourself, and you were grateful for Steve’s assistance. By the time he’d walked you to your door, you were running on fumes.

“Do you need help getting inside?” he asked, looking worried.

“No,” you assured him. “I’ll be okay. I am literally just going to collapse into my bed. Might not even bother taking the dress off, to be honest.”

Steve blushed, and you regretted putting the idea of you getting out of your clothes into his head. “Well, if you’re sure,” he said, running a hand behind his neck, the movement so similar to Bucky that it threw you for a moment. “If there’s anything you need in the night, anything at all, don’t hesitate to call me, alright?”

“Sure, Steve,” you said as he placed a gentle kiss to the crown of your head. You were grateful for his help, but you knew that, even if you were suddenly dying, you would not, in fact, be calling him. “Thanks for your help.”

You wished each other a goodnight, and soon you were once again within the sanctuary of your room. Managing to summon the will from somewhere, you shimmied out of the dress, draping it over your vanity chair; it was, after all, probably far too expensive to either sleep in or leave in a puddle on the floor overnight. You debated whether or not to take the time to remove your face full of makeup but, God, your bed was just so inviting, you’d deal with the consequences in the morning.

Chapter 17: Unanswered

Chapter Text

As soon as you woke up the next morning, you were in the bathroom, throwing up once again. You were very much over this, thank you. Maybe you should go down to med bay and get checked out. You’d do it if you were still feeling poorly by the end of the day.

You went to the sink to rinse out your mouth and nearly jumped when you caught sight of yourself in the mirror– sleeping in your makeup had not done you any favors, that was obvious now. You looked like a rabid raccoon with the way your mascara had smeared around your eyes and your lipstick had smudged around your mouth. Grumbling to yourself, you hopped into the shower, hoping to wash away all traces of the trash panda that had taken you over down the drain.

When you finished, you decided you had earned yourself a rest break, so you dressed in your comfiest of loungewear and flopped yourself back down on your bed. Picking your phone, you checked to see if Bucky had texted you to let you know the raid had been successful, and he was safe once again.

Before you could check your messages, however, you were bombarded by a barrage of Google alerts for your name. When you’d taken on the position of Stark Industries CTO, you’d set up the alert for yourself, wanting to keep an eye on any and all news items that might pertain to you, just in case some nosey reporter decided to go digging for information about your past you’d rather have stayed buried. Thus far, you’d managed to keep yourself out of the spotlight.

All that seemed to have changed overnight. You were met with headline after ridiculous headline, each accompanied by photos of you and Steve, taken without your knowledge, from the night before:

“Love in the Lab? Captain America Spotted Getting Cozy with Stark Industries CTO!”

“Sizzling Speculation: Is Captain America Courting Stark Industries' Chief Techie?”

“Behind the Shield: Captain America's Covert Romance with Stark Industries' Techno Prodigy!”

“Avengers Assemble... for Love? Captain America Linked to Stark Industries' Brainiac!”

The photos themselves were ridiculous; carefully selected snapshots of innocuous moments cropped to look far more scandalous without proper context than they really were. Steve leaning in to speak in your ear with his hand on your elbow; you and Steve dancing; Steve holding you up when you almost fell, which looked a lot like he was about to lean in to kiss you; you and Steve looking cozy in conversation on the sofa; Steve’s hand at the small of your back as he led you out of the banquet room. Fortunately, because of the full face of makeup you were wearing, you didn’t feel like you looked much like your everyday self, but it was still unmistakably you.

You scanned some of the articles, looking to see what sort of bullshit they’d come up with to sell this absolute garbage.

“‘I can’t say for sure that they were together,’ said one male guest at the gala, who asked to have his name withheld, ‘but there were many, many men who approached her throughout the evening, and she rebuffed every single one of them, except for the Captain!’”

“One of our sources reported that ‘100% without a doubt, Captain Rogers and Ms. (Y/L/N) left the gala together, and Captain Rogers couldn’t seem to keep his hands off of her! Let’s just say they left fairly early, and neither one seemed to find their way back to the party.’ Is it possible the two were engaging in a private celebration all their own?”

“An anonymous source inside Avengers’ Tower told our reporter that ‘Ms. (Y/L/N) has been involved with a certain super soldier for quite some time now. They tried to keep it secret for awhile, but everyone here knows they’re an item, and they are very much in love.’”

“Captain Rogers and Ms. (Y/L/N) were unavailable for comment. Perhaps they’ve yet to emerge from last night’s love nest.”

You tossed your phone onto your bed and let out an annoyed groan. Wonderful. Now you’d have to get a hold of the company’s PR team and spend the rest of the day coming up with a statement refuting the reports to give to the press. Oh well. At least you and Bucky could have a good laugh about it when he got home.

Oh shit– Bucky. There was a small chance he might come across one of these articles, and you wanted to give him a heads up before he had an opportunity to let his insecurities get the better of him and spiral. He had to know how ridiculous the entire situation was.

You picked your phone back up and hit the button to call him, but it went straight to voicemail. Odd, but not completely out of nowhere; he was probably somewhere with shitty service. You began speaking at the beep.

“Hey, baby. I just wanted to give you a heads up– I woke up to a string of garbage headlines implying that Steve and I are together, but I just want to assure you that is absolutely not the case. The entire thing is a fucking nightmare. We were both at the gala, and he kept me company for a little while. We just talked and danced a little bit, and he helped me out when I was feeling dizzy. Still sick, by the way. Threw up again this morning and I— sorry, off topic. Anyway, I did talk to him about his feelings for me, and reminded him that I only see him as a friend, like family. I think he took it well. No tears, at least, and he wasn’t mad. He said he just wants us both to be happy.” You paused for a minute as you considered Steve’s words from the night before.

“I want us to be happy, too, Buck. I think I’m ready to try again when you get home, if you want. I miss you. Not just because you’re not here right now, but I miss us. I love you too much to waste any more time not being with you. So, let’s do that, okay? Let’s start over. Stay safe and come back to me, Barnes. I love you.”

You ended the call and decided to text him, too, just to be on the safe side. A call might not be able to go through, but a text might.

>> Hey– just left you a voicemail. There’s a bunch of stories about me and Steve going around the internet that are all complete and total bullshit.

>> Gotta meet with PR to put out a statement. Wanted you to hear it from me before you saw it online or something.

>> I’m so sorry if it stresses you out– it’s stressing *me* out.

>> I hope you know that I would *never* betray you like that.

>> Be safe, my love. I can’t wait for you to get home. I think I’m ready to try us again if you are.

You sat there, staring at your phone for several long minutes, as though you could will him to respond to you, but the text thread remained dormant. You tried calling him a few more times, but each call went straight to voicemail.

Meanwhile, it seemed like everyone you knew who wasn’t Bucky was trying to get in touch with you to ask you what the fuck was going on– and even more people you didn’t know; reception had left you several harried messages asking how you wanted to field requests for comment from at least two dozen reporters. Wanda was lamenting that she and Vision were away at the shore for the weekend and couldn’t be part of the excitement, and Nat swore that if she wasn’t horrifically hungover, she’d be in your room grilling you for information as you spoke.

“There’s no information to grill for, Natty,” you assured her. You rubbed your forehead– now, in addition to your nausea and persistent fatigue, you had the pleasure of a pounding headache, as well. “We danced, like, three quarters of a song, I almost passed out, he helped me stay upright, and we talked. I told him there was never going to be anything more between us than friendship, and he walked me to my room so I wouldn’t faint on the way. He left me at my door.”

“What does Barnes think about all of this?” she asked you, and you could hear the smirk in her voice, hangover or not.

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “I tried calling him a hundred times to talk to him about it, but I keep getting sent straight to voicemail.”

“Well, I wouldn’t get too riled up about it,” Nat said. “There’s swaths of areas of Russia that don’t have cell service. Besides,” she added, “you’re not the one that can’t be trusted. If he doesn’t believe you, he’s got a lot of fucking nerve.”

You couldn’t disagree with that. “Yeah,” you sighed, “you’re right. I just wish I could reach him, at least to know he’s safe.”

“Eh, don’t worry about Barnes,” Nat said. “His head’s almost as hard as his arm. He’ll be fine.”

You had to begrudgingly agree to that, though his silence continued to unnerve you. You said your goodbyes to Nat and checked the time on your phone screen. Your meeting with the head of PR was in about fifteen minutes; might as well start heading down now. The sooner you could find a way out of this mess, the better.

*

You’d never had an opportunity to meet Lisa Galvin, head of the PR firm that exclusively represented Stark Industries, but you figured that, if she could handle the public relations nightmare that was Tony Stark, you were obviously in good hands.

“Ms. (Y/L/N),” Lisa said, rising to shake your hand as you were shown into her office, “it’s so lovely to finally meet you. I’ve heard such good things.” Her firm’s suite was on one of the Tower’s mid floors, and was bright and spacious, but lacked any real sense of character or personal warmth. Given that Galvin & Associates represented all of Stark Industries, plus every Avenger, you kind of expected the space to be a bit more… colorful.

“‘Pocket’s fine,” you said, sitting down in the chair she offered you. “Thanks for meeting with me on such short notice.”

Lisa smiled. “My pleasure. Though, we wish you’d come to see us much sooner. In terms of a PR footprint, you’re practically a ghost! We could do so much for your public image, if you’d only let us, dear.”

You looked around, wondering who the ‘we’ was that she was referring to, as it was only the two of you in the room. “I actually prefer it that way,” you told her. “I highly value my privacy, and I took my job to create and innovate, not to become public property.”

Lisa pursed her lips, as though she could think of nothing more disdainful than wanting to remain out of the public eye. “Well, to each their own, I suppose,” she said, her voice betraying that she very much did not agree with you. “Now, what is it you wanted to meet about?”

“I’m sure that you’ve seen the articles by now,” you told her, something about her beginning to rub you the wrong way. “You wouldn’t be very good at your job if you hadn’t.”

“Ah, yes,” she replied, and if she heard the edge in your voice, she didn’t acknowledge it. “The ones about you and our very own Captain Rogers! Congratulations, I might add! Just delightful! What about them?”

“I want to issue a statement refuting them,” you said.

Lisa looked at you as if you asked her if she wanted to go out and kill any and every puppy you could find. “But Pocket, my dear, why? You must understand that being romantically linked to one of the most eligible bachelors in the entire world– nay; throughout all of history can only increase your public approval ratings. Do you know how many of my clients would literally kill to have exposure like that?”

You widened your eyes. She was slightly scary, like a deranged Effie Trinket. “Well,” you began slowly, “first, there’s the fact that it’s not the truth. I am not now, nor have I ever been, romantically linked with Steve Rogers. And second, and most importantly, I’m deeply committed to someone else, and I don’t want him getting hurt by these lies.”

Lisa rolled her eyes at you. “My dear, in the court of public opinion, no one gives a damn about the truth. It’s all about optics. And given the public’s engagement with the articles that have been posted since the gala, the optics you and the Captain present together are divine.”

“Yeeeeaaaah,” you drew out, “I really don’t give a shit about optics. I’d just like the record to reflect the facts.” You leaned forward, putting your elbows on Lisa’s desk as you looked her in the eye. “And if you’re not going to do that for me, I’ll speak to Ms. Potts and Mr. Stark about finding a new firm for the company that can.”

You smiled your “did you forget exactly what my position was in this company?” smile; not one that you used very often, as it tended to give you the ick, but you felt it was more than appropriate, given the circumstances. It wasn’t uncommon for people to underestimate or dismiss you, or think they could intimidate you or bend you to their will due to your small stature or your relatively young age, or just because you were a woman. It didn’t hurt to give them an occasional reminder.

Lisa looked properly concerned. “Well, I – there’s no need for that!” she spluttered. “I see no reason Mr. Stark needs to be involved. It’s a simple matter of having you write out a statement, after all. From there, my associates will send it along the AP wire, and to the outlets that wrote the articles, asking for a retraction, or at the very least, that they publish your response.” She opened a drawer in her desk and pulled out a legal pad. Handing it to you, along with a pen, she said “Just write the basic sentiment you wish to get across, and my team will tweak it into something befitting a proper press release.”

You raised an eyebrow. “I’d prefer to have my statement in my own words, thanks,” you said, before bowing your head and beginning to write:

While Ms. (Y/L/N) greatly values her friendship with Captain Rogers and admires all he has done for his country, she would like to clarify that they are not now, nor have they ever been, involved in a romantic relationship of any kind. Ms. (Y/L/N) is involved in a committed, long-term relationship with another party and kindly requests that her privacy in this arena be respected, and she be left to continue living her life as a private citizen.

“There,” you said, handing her the sheet of paper. “That should do it.”

Lisa looked it over and nodded her approval. “It will do,” she said. “It’ll go out straight away; I’ll do it myself.” You nodded and, thanking her for her time, stood and turned to leave. “Oh, Pocket, dear,” she called to you. You turned, wondering what more she needed from you. “Just for the sake of curiosity, when you wrote you were already in a long-term relationship, who were you referring to? Is it someone in the Tower? I only ask because it may become a relevant issue at some point in the future.”

“James Barnes,” you told her proudly. You loved him, and you honestly didn’t care who knew it.

Lisa clutched her chest as if you were attempting to steal her pearls. “The Winter Soldier?! Oh, my dear– you better pray that little nugget never gets out, because if it does, you’ll be running back here in tears, begging me to fix your ruined public image.”

*

You managed to keep down some saltine crackers and a bowl of chicken broth Sam had prepared for you for lunch, though it was difficult not to gag, what with all the sass he was giving you about the headlines. You were feeling a little less tired, now that you had some nourishment in your system, but you still found yourself lying in bed, listlessly checking your phone over and over again for a new message or call from Bucky that never came.

Lisa Galvin had been true to her word, at least; you began receiving Google Alerts linking to your statement. Of course, they weren’t getting as much traffic as the original articles had, but you were relieved to know that the truth of the matter was finally out there, and you could breathe easier for it.

You sent a link to your statement to Bucky, hoping that would entice him to answer you, but were only met with continued silence. You were becoming increasingly agitated by his lack of communication. Yes, you were worried about his safety, but as much as you were loath to admit it, Carthage was with him, and two super soldiers working together was a challenge even the more elite terrorist organizations would have difficulty taking on.

But then again, he was with Carthage. What if he had seen the headlines and believed them? What if he— no. You weren’t going to let yourself go down that path. He had been so dedicated over the last month, working to prove he was worthy of your trust, cutting her out completely. He wouldn’t – couldn’t– betray you like that. He knew it would destroy you, destroy any chance the two of you had to make your relationship work. You had to trust him. That was the entire point of your separation. Rebuilding trust, and you had to believe in him.

You had to.

With a sigh, you put your phone back on its charger, battery already well depleted from all the web browsing and non-Bucky texting you’d done so far today. Maybe you would take a nap. While you were feeling a little better, you didn’t want to risk a repeat of last night, where you couldn’t even stand on your own without assistance, so you figured a little extra rest would do you some good. Besides, maybe you’d wake up and Bucky would have contacted you, and you could finally stop fretting over the entire thing.

Yes, a nap sounded excellent right now.

You woke up, a few hours later with a start. You’d had a nightmare. You couldn’t remember exactly what it was about, just that it had been about Bucky, and it left your heart aching. Rubbing your eyes and trying to shake the feeling of pain from your heart, you checked your phone again. Still nothing, but it was quickly approaching the designated time for him to call you– his “proof of life” communication that had become a standard, every day tradition when one of you was away. Surely, he’d contact you soon. So, you waited.

And waited. And waited. Then you waited some more.

Two and a half hours after the predetermined call time, you’d had enough. You could feel your stomach practically eating itself alive with anxiety, on top of the nausea you were already experiencing, and there was only one person who had the answers you were looking for.

*

You found Steve lifting weights in the training room, a group of agents, both male and female, pretending not to be transfixed with the way his muscles glistened under the strain of more weight than any normal man should be able to bench. You ignored the whispers that built up as you walked toward him, no doubt dumb gossip continuing to spread after the release of those fucking idiotic articles. You wondered briefly if you could sue the publications for slander. Or was it libel? You never remembered the difference.

This was America, right? you thought. Wasn’t litigation one of your inalienable rights under God and the Constitution and Santa Claus, or something? You made a note to talk to Legal.

Steve looked surprised to see you when you called out his name to get his attention, no doubt expecting you to avoid him like the plague, all things considered. “Hey, Pocket,” he said, a little too nonchalantly as he set down his barbell and wiped the sweat from his brow. “Don’t tell me you’ve come to ogle me, too.” He nodded toward the not-so-subtle group of agents. “I’m beginning to feel a little objectified.”

“Have you heard from Bucky?” you asked, wanting to get straight to the point. Steve looked at you for a few moments, just blinking, before you went on, your voice growing faster and more high pitched as you spoke: “I haven’t heard from him since last night, and I’ve been calling and texting him all day, but he’s not getting back to me. I never heard from him after the raid, and then after the articles… He missed our regular check-in, and I’ve been worried sick. What if something happened to him? What if–”

“Whoa, Pocket,” Steve put an arm on your shoulder, shutting you up and steadying you. “Calm down, okay? Take a breath for me.” He waited on you to do just that before he continued. “Buck’s just fine. He and Jade were successful in their objective, and they’re on their way home now. There’s nothing for you to worry about.”

His words took you by surprise. He was on his way home? “But… Why didn’t he call me back, Steve? All day, I’ve been thinking he either hates my guts because he saw those damned articles, or that he’s lying dead in some godforsaken Russian forest. And he’s just been completely fucking fine this entire time?”

“Hey,” Steve said, rubbing a hand comfortingly along your upper arm, “I’m sure he’s got a perfectly good explanation for not getting in touch,” he told you. “He radioed Communications from the Quinjet so, maybe something’s up with his phone. Don’t get worked up until you’ve talked to him, alright?”

You nodded, wanting to believe Steve’s words, wanting to let them give you comfort. “Did he say anything?” you asked him. “About the articles? Or give you a message to give to me?”

Steve shook his head. “No, I’m sorry, Pocket. He just said they’d successfully cleared their objective and they were on their way home. That’s it.”

You blinked repeatedly, not sure what to make of what Steve had just told you. The only positive thing you could take away from it was that Bucky was safe. He was safe and he was coming home. All other answers would have to wait.

“Yeah, okay,” you nodded dumbly, “thanks Steve. I appreciate it.” You turned to head back to your room, thoughts spiraling until the only thing you could coherently think was: If Bucky had been able to get in touch with Steve, it wasn’t that he was out of contact; he simply hadn’t wanted to contact you.

*

You went about the rest of your evening and night as normally as you possibly could to distract yourself, checking up on the work emails you’d missed while you were ill and approving some requests for PTO. You’d listened to some back episodes of a True Crime podcast you’d been meaning to catch up on and aimlessly browsed Reddit, making some anonymous posts debunking some of the more outrageous relationship theories that were popping up concerning you and Steve. You were most definitely, for example, not having his super soldier baby.

Fortunately, you only threw up once during that time, and you were optimistic when, after you did, your stomach growled with hunger. You headed to the kitchen, considering potentially grabbing a plate of Thai leftovers from the other night, but remembering your reaction to Nat’s to-go plate, you opted instead to just make yourself a turkey and cheese sandwich. Best not to risk a repeat performance.

Once you made it back to your room, you decided you’d been awake long enough and called it a night. Checking your phone one last time, you were disappointed, yet not surprised, to see you still had no new messages from Bucky. As you put your head down on your pillow, you could only hope tomorrow would bring better tidings, and soon, you were asleep.

You were dreaming. And oh, it was a very good dream, indeed. You weren’t exactly sure what you were dreaming about, you just knew that delicious tension was building low in your stomach and, fleetingly, you hoped it was the kind of dream where you actually got to finish, and not the kind that left you frustratingly hanging over the precipice without actually falling. Those dreams were the fucking worst.

The dream slowly came into focus, Bucky’s head between your legs, his soft hair brushing the sensitive skin of your inner thighs as his tongued fucked you, the hardened muscle working its way in and out of your cunt as if drawing life from it.

You moaned in your sleep as his tongue slipped from your weeping hole, only to latch onto your clit, dancing circles around the sensitive bundle of nerves. You felt your back arch off the bed as his thick fingers found your entrance and began working their way in and out of you, the pace growing faster by the minute. God. This dream was so fucking good, you never wanted to wake up. Your orgasm was so close, you could practically taste it.

“Bucky,” you moaned in your sleep. Even as a figment of your imagination, he was good enough to elicit sinful sounds from your lips. The pressure was building. You were nearly there.

“That’s it, doll,” Dream Bucky said, his nose rubbing against your clit. He added another finger, stretching you so damned well. “Almost there, baby. You can do it. Come for me.” His mouth returned to your clit, suckling from it and driving you over the edge.

Your breath was coming in ragged gasps, the noises you were making positively pornographic without your conscious mind awake enough to dampen them. But Dream Bucky kept working you through your release, rhythm never faltering.

“I think you can give me another one, pretty girl,” Dream Bucky said. He increased his pace, and soon you were falling again, your arousal coating his hands.

When your aftershocks had subsided, Dream Bucky’s hands pulled away, and you whimpered at the loss of contact. But then, you felt your bed dip, felt the solid, comforting presence of Bucky’s body as it crawled up alongside of you, felt his arms wrap around your waist.

You weren’t dreaming.

“Buck?” you rasped, voice still thick with sleep. “Is that really you, or am I still dreaming?” You reached out and touched his cheek, feeling the unmistakably real sensation of his overgrown stubble against your palm.

“I’m sorry sweets,” Bucky said, a devious smirk plastered across his face, “did I wake you?” He was already divested of most of his clothing, down to just a pair of tight, burgundy boxer briefs.

You yawned and raised your arms over your head, stretching out like a cat. “Was I supposed to sleep through that?” you asked him.

“Mm,” he said, kissing the side of your neck and making you shiver, “I’d really hoped you wouldn’t.” He shifted and you could feel the hard outline of his cock pressing against you. It woke you up immediately.

“Why the fuck haven’t you called me back?” you snapped suddenly, all traces of sleep having gone, leaving you with only your anxiety and unanswered questions. “I’ve been worried fucking sick all day long and I haven’t heard a peep from you! You think you can just give me 24 hours of radio silence, not knowing if you were dead or alive, and come waltzing back here with that magic tongue and I’d just–”

Bucky silenced you with a bruising kiss. “Magic tongue, huh?” he said when you broke for air. You nodded dumbly, currently unable to form a sentence with the way he’d just kissed the shit out of you.

“‘m so sorry, sweets,” Bucky said, his hands slowly making their way to the hem of your sleep shirt and pulling up, exposing your breasts to his lingering gaze. “I never meant to make you worry.” He slipped the shirt over your head, and despite your ire, you helped him do it. “Forgot to pack my international adapter for m’ phone.” He began placing gentle kisses to your breasts. “Battery died.” He took one nipple hungrily into his mouth, sucking and nipping at the peaked flesh. “Couldn’t charge it.” Then the other. You carded your hands through his hair. “Think you can find it in your heart to forgive me?”

His hand snaked down your belly to cup your heat. God, he had a way of making you feel so fucking good.

“I might be able to be persuaded,” you breathed as his fingers began toying through your slick folds. But logic soon smacked you like one of Natasha’s “love punches,” and you reached out a hand to stop his movements. “We should probably talk first.”

A flash of panic crossed Bucky’s face, and you wondered if he was worried about the articles. “Did you get my messages?” you asked him nervously.

Bucky nodded. “Plugged my phone in back in my room as soon as I got home,” he said. “Hadn’t seen the articles, but even if I had, I know you of all people would never do somethin’ like that. I’d have to be a fucking moron to think so. I know you’d never hurt me.” He had a far away look in his eyes for a moment, and you wondered if he was imagining you and Steve together.

You reached up to cup his face. “But did you see the other part?” you asked him.

“The part about you being ready to try us again?” he asked with a smile. When you nodded he leaned in and kissed you, a quick, sweet peck. “Darlin’, why the hell do you think I rushed over here to wake you up like that? Couldn’t stand to waste another second.”

“Well, then we better make up for lost time,” you teased, reaching down to slide your hand under the waistband of his boxer briefs.”

“I like the way you think,” Bucky grinned as he rolled over until he was lying on top of you. “I hope you’re not tired, sweetheart, because I got plans to keep you up all night long.”

“You talk a big talk, Barnes,” you smirked as you stroked him, firm and slow. “I hope you can back up your words.”

The look Bucky gave you was absolutely sinful as he reached down to free himself. Pressing the head of his cock against your swollen clit, he kissed you again. “Hold on to something, doll,” he said, nipping at the skin of your pulse point. “Cause you’re gonna have to beg me to stop.”

Chapter 18: Unread

Chapter Text

You woke up the next morning with a pleasantly familiar ache between your legs. True to his word, you had, after the fifth or sixth time, had to beg him to stop. You’d lost count of how many orgasms he’d managed to coax out of you, but you’d been too sensitive to continue any further, and the sky was already lightening with the promise of dawn when you’d both finally succumbed to sleep.

“Mornin’” Bucky whispered into your hair, planting a kiss to your head.

“Morning, Buck,” you greeted back, snuggling closer to his chest. “Can we just stay in bed all day and play last night on repeat?”

Bucky chuckled. “As much as I’d love to, doll,” he said, “I’ve gotta do a mission debrief with Steve and Tony at some point today.” At the sight of your pout, he added “But we can make them wait a little while longer.”

You kissed lazily for awhile, welcoming the familiar sensation of being next to one another once more, physically and emotionally, but soon your hands drifted lower, and before you knew it, you had one hand wrapped around his dick while he had one of his buried in your cunt, your thigh draped over his.

Neither one of you spoke or broke eye contact as you brought each other to completion yet again, and though you technically weren’t having actual sex, it felt like the single most erotic experience the two of you had ever shared.

“Holy shit,” panted Bucky as he pressed his forehead to yours. “That was so fucking hot.”

Your chest heaved with your own heavy breaths. “We should do that all the time,” you agreed.

“I love you,” he kissed you again.

“I love you,” you whispered back to him when the kiss broke.

Bucky cleared his throat, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “I was thinking.”

“Well, that sounds unfortunate,” you joked, but his face remained serious.

“We should leave here,” he said, not quite meeting your gaze.

Your face turned puzzled. “What do you mean? Like, actually take that vacation we talked about?”

“Well, yeah, but no.” Bucky huffed. “I mean, we should leave the Tower. Get a place, just the two of us. Really start over proper, without everyone else always around.”

“Bucky Barnes,” you grinned at him, “are you asking me to move in with you?”

“Would it be so bad?” he asked back. “Think about it– a place of our own, that we could make into a home. Where we could create brand new memories. Maybe think about starting a family.”

That took you by surprise. “You mean, like, have kids?”

“Only if you wanted to!” Bucky said hastily. “I’d never force you into anything you didn’t want to do. I know we never talked about it but, if I was gonna do it, I’d only ever wanna do it with you.”

You sat up. This was now too serious a conversation to be had lying down. And naked, probably, but you didn’t make a move to get dressed. “I… I honestly never really thought about it, Buck. About having kids.”

“You don’t have to decide anything right now, sweetheart,” Bucky sat up to join you. “I’m not tryin’ pressure you into anything. And I wouldn’t want kids until after we were married for a little bit, anyway. It’s just… somethin’ I’ve been thinkin’ about.”

“Married?” you asked him, eyebrows raised.

Bucky’s cheeks colored. “Well, I’m not sayin’ tomorrow, or the day after, but come on, doll! You gotta know you’re it for me. Ya think I haven’t been dreamin’ ‘bout callin’ you Mrs. Barnes since the day I met you?”

You nudged him playfully with your shoulder. “You dirty liar.”

Bucky’s body immediately tensed at your words. “Why do you think I’m lyin’?”

“The day you met me? Come on, Barnes.”

“Oh,” Bucky let out a shaky exhale, “it was definitely that day. I remember thinkin’ to myself ‘Always did want a wife who made awful jokes.’”

You had no idea if he was being serious or not, but it was sweet all the same. “You sure you didn’t always want a wife who did all the housework and had a pot roast waiting for you every day when you got home from the office?”

“Pfft,” Bucky waved away the thought. “Obedient, submissive women are overrated. Gimme a sassy girl with a dirty mouth and a heart of gold any day.”

You laughed at that and then bit your lip, considering. “Yeah, okay,” you said after a moment.

Bucky’s eyes widened to the size of saucers. “Really, doll? You’ll marry me?”

You barked out a laugh. “Whoa, slow down, Casanova! I’m agreeing to getting our own place! You wanna marry me, you’re gonna have to go through the trouble of putting together a real proposal. Our engagement story is not going to be ‘well, we lying were in bed after jacking each other off, and then he said ‘we could get married, if you want.’’ I am far too classy for that.”

It was Bucky’s turn, now, to laugh. “Yeah, alright, sweets. You deserve something special, anyway. You deserve the world.” He kissed you. “I’ll think of something that’s gonna knock your socks off.”

“Looking forward to it, Barnes,” you said, your heart feeling both fuller and simultaneously lighter than it ever had before.

The two of you went back to kissing (and maybe fucking once or twice) when, eventually, Bucky’s phone buzzed. He stole a quick glance at the screen (thankfully, this time, he did not currently have his dick inside of you).

“It’s Steve,” he said, picking it up to read the message. “He wants to debrief in twenty.” Putting the phone back down, Bucky reached for you again, but you gently pushed him away. “What?” he whined, looking pitifully rejected.

“Buck, you reek of sex,” you warned him. “If I can smell it on you, you know Steve will, too. Go take a shower so you don’t traumatize your best friend!”

“But I thought you liked it when I smelled like sex, baby,” Bucky rubbed his body playfully against yours.

“I do,” you agreed, “but that doesn’t mean that everyone else will!” With a grumble, Bucky turned and dragged himself out of bed, but you managed to smack him on the ass before he got very far. “Hey,” you said, getting his attention once again, “if you hurry up and get back quick from your meeting, I’ll make sure you reek of sex all over again in no time.”

Bucky saluted you. “Ma’am, yes ma’am,” he said with a grin before heading to the shower. It took all of your willpower not to get up and join him, but you knew that, if you did, there’s no way in hell he’d be able to make his meeting in time.

*

After Bucky had kissed you goodbye and left for his debrief, you set about getting ready for your day. You showered and brushed your teeth, pleasantly noticing that you hadn’t vomited since last night. Maybe good cock was the cure you’d needed all this time, you thought with a laugh.

You stripped and remade your bed because, though you knew you’d probably just be getting it filthy again as soon as Bucky was back, you weren’t excited about getting back into cold, damp sheets. Maybe you should invest in one of those absorbent sex blankets you’d read about online. You could buy one for your new place!

That thought led you to open up Zillow on your laptop to browse available apartments in the general area. You didn’t want to move too far away; you both still needed to be at the Tower for work, after all. You had to admit, now that you were giving it some real thought, the idea excited you. Not just because you wanted to move in with Bucky, but because you’d be creating, for the first time in your entire life, a home of your very own, without feeling beholden to anyone for it, whether out of love or a sense of obligation. The very notion was elating.

You were browsing through some gorgeous but ridiculously overpriced condos when you heard a phone buzz. You glanced at your screen, but it was black. Frowning, you glanced around and noticed Bucky’s cell sitting on one of your bedside tables. He must have forgotten it before he left for his meeting.

You walked over to it and glanced at the screen. Unfortunately, it wasn’t the newly received message from Sam that caught your attention. It was the notification below it, informing Bucky that he had one new text message from ‘Vix <3.’

That’s not possible, you thought as you picked up the phone. I blocked her number, myself. There’s no way she should be able to text him. Against your better judgment, you typed in your birthday to unlock his phone. Biting your lip, a sudden surge of anxiety flooding your system, you navigated to his SMS app and opened up his thread with Jade.

Your stomach soured and your blood turned to ice as you scrolled up, reading the contents of the thread. This couldn’t be possible. He wouldn’t– but yet, there it was, staring you right in the face. Fighting back a wave of nausea, you ran to the bathroom and vomited, this time having nothing to do with your stomach bug and everything to do with your heart breaking.

You were dreaming. You had to be dreaming. But no. You read through the thread again and again, and again. There was no mistaking it. You slid down the bathroom wall to the floor, clutching the phone to your chest, but no tears came.

No, instead of falling apart, you felt your walls come back up, going so high that they merged together above you, encasing you in a dome of icy rage. Instead of sadness, you felt resolve. He had lied to your face and played you for a fool. Well, it had been for the last time. There was no coming back from this. Not ever. You’d give him no more chances to betray you.

You were a fucking fool to have believed his pretty lies, his hollow promises. An idiot for constantly forgiving him, when it was clear, now, that he had never really loved you. Oh, he may have thought he did. But this… what you had just seen evidence of– this was not love.

With a shaking breath, you stood up. You took screenshots of every incriminating text and sent them to yourself. You needed to move quickly so you were finished before he got back. Running to your computer, you printed out multiple copies of the screenshots then, you meticulously went through your room, collecting everything of Bucky’s that had migrated across the hall from his room to yours over the course of your relationship and crammed it all into a box.

You found one of his precious knives under the bed, and thought about throwing it out the window, but then an idea struck you. Taking the knife, the box of stuff, and a copy of the screenshots, you opened your door and walked across the hall. You unceremoniously dumped the contents of the box into a heap in front of Bucky’s door, then, using all of your strength, rammed the knife through the wooden door, pinning the screenshots in place. Let him run face-first into the evidence of his betrayal.

Running back into your room, you grabbed your go-bag, tossing some essentials in it. You couldn’t stay in this room, not right now, after everything that had happened last night and this morning. Besides, it would be too easy for him to find you here. You needed to go somewhere where he wouldn’t think to look for you. You didn’t trust yourself right now not to claw his eyes out if you saw him. Though lord knows he would fucking deserve it.

Before you left your room, you called out to FRIDAY. “Lock my door behind me, and under no circumstances are you to let Sergeant Barnes into my room,” you told the AI.

“Yes, Ms. (Y/L/N),” she responded.

“Oh, and FRIDAY? One more thing,” you added, “if Sergeant Barnes asks where I am, tell him ‘fucking dead to him.”

It was sickening how cheerfully the AI responded to your depressing command, promising that she would deliver the message to him, should he inquire.

With a final look around, and a cage of ice around your heart, you closed the door to your room, to your love for Bucky, and you didn’t look back.

*

“Care to tell me why we’re meeting in an unused guest suite on a floor that’s mostly under construction?” Nat asked when you opened the door of your borrowed new room to let her in. You didn’t utter a word, just thrust a copy of the text screenshots into her hands and sat down at the edge of the unfamiliar bed, waiting for her to read them.

“What’s this?” she asked.

“Just read it,” you told her, voice devoid of any emotion.

Natasha scanned through the messages, her eyes widening in shock and disgust as she made her way through them. “This has got to be some sort of sick trick, right?” she asked you when she’d finished. “Like, Carthage found some program online to make up fake text messages and sent them to mess with you. Barnes would nev–”

“I screenshotted them off of Bucky’s phone, myself, Nat,” you informed her.

There was a knock on the door and Nat opened it to reveal Wanda. “I came as soon as I could,” the other redhead said. “Why are we having a secret meeting?” Nat handed Wanda the screenshots and came to sit next to you on the bed while she read them.

Wanda’s hand flew to her mouth. “No,” she whispered, looking back up at you. “How could he? There must be some kind of mistake.”

“No mistake, Wands,” you said, standing up to take the pages from her. “It’s all right there, typed out by the man himself.” And then, as if to punish yourself further, you began to read out loud the text between Bucky and Jade:

Vix <3: Hey there, handsome xoxo

Vix <3: Bucky?

Vix <3: You just going to ignore me after everything?

>> How are you texting me? You're supposed to be blocked.

Vix <3: You should keep better track of your phone, then ;)

Vix <3: Or, at the very least, choose a better passcode.

>> What do you want?

Vix <3: I want to talk about what happened the other night.

>> Nothing happened.

Vix <3: Come on now, we both know that's not true ;)

>> It was a mistake. I should have never done it.

Vix <3: You don't make a mistake two separate times, Barnes.

>> Well, I did. And I regret it.

Vix <3: You didn't seem to regret it when you were blowing loads of cum inside of me.

>> Jesus Christ, Jade. You don't have to be so fucking crass about it.

Vix <3: I thought you liked girls with dirty mouths.

>> Jade, I have a girlfriend. She’s the only one whose mouth I like dirty. Or at all.

Vix <3: That's right, your Perfect, Precious Pocket.

>> Do not talk about her.

Vix <3: Oh please. Don't pretend you care about her now.

>> I love her.

Vix <3: You have a funny way of showing it, sleeping with me just a day and a half ago.

>> She is EVERYTHING to me.

Vix <3: Obviously not.

>> I thought she slept with Steve.

>> I was a fucking idiot.

>> It was a misunderstanding.

Vix <3: Orly? That how she's going to see it?

>> She's not gonna find out.

Vix <3: You think you can hide the truth from her? Please.

>> The last thing I want to do is hurt her.

Vix <3: Should have thought of that before you fucked me. Twice.

Vix <3: If you don't tell her, I will.

>> She'd never believe you. She fucking hates you.

Vix <3: I don't need her to believe me. I just need her to see these texts.

>> You wouldn't.

Vix <3: Try me. You don't want to fuck with me, Bucky.

Vix <3: Tell her the truth or I will.

>> I swear to god, Carthage, you breathe a word of this to her and I *will* fucking kill you.

>> That is not an idle threat.

>> Ending your life would be as easy for me as breathing.

Vix <3: You wouldn't.

>> Do you want to try me?

>> Because I promise you, she is the most important thing in this world to me, and if you threaten that, I will end you without losing a wink of sleep.

>> You know what I'm capable of. Don't test me.

>> Do you understand me?

>> I said, do you understand me?

Vix <3: Christ, yes, Barnes. I understand.

Vix <3: I'll keep my mouth shut.

Vix <3: But you're a real piece of shit, you know that?

>> You're not telling me anything I don't already know.

Vix <3: I'd be so fucking good to you if you just gave me a chance.

>> Not happening. And if I find out you even insinuate to Pocket, or to anyone, what happened in Russia, it will be the absolute last thing you ever do, and no one will ever find your body.

Vix <3: I already told you, I won't tell your Precious Pocket. I'm not a liar.

>> Good. We're done. I'll speak to Steve about having someone else take over your training.

Vix <3: WHAT?! You don't have to do that!

>> I can't be around you anymore. I don't want to be around you anymore.

Vix <3: Temptation too strong? Afraid you'll make another 'mistake'?

>> Fuck you.

Vix <3: You already did, baby xoxo

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Wanda whispered when you’d finished reading. “Pocket, honey, are you alright?” She looked at you as if she were terrified you were going to break. And maybe the old you would have. This new you, the one that was forged under rage and ice, was made of harder, crueler stuff.

“I’ll live,” you said. Nat and Wanda exchanged a glance that didn’t escape your notice. “What?” you snapped at them.

“Hey,” Nat said, “Don’t get mad at us; we’re just worried about you. The last time he pulled something like this, you were a mess. This,” she indicated the sheets of paper you still held, “is way worse, so forgive us for expecting you to not be okay.”

You sighed and slumped down into a nearby chair. “I’m sorry, guys,” you said. “Obviously I’m not okay, and it’s not fair of me to take out my frustrations on you. But this time is different. Before, I was devastated, I was sad. But now? Now I’m fucking pissed. It’s like every ounce of love I felt for him has been turned into pure, unadulterated hatred, and all I want is for him to fucking suffer. I want him to hurt the way he hurt me.” Wanda opened her mouth to speak, but you interrupted her before she could. “And I know that’s not healthy, Wands. Trust me, I know that. I’ve just never been this angry before in my entire fucking life. God, not even at fucking Darren.”

“Who’s Darren?” Wanda asked, but Nat shook her head at her.

“Not now,” she said.

“I don’t even want him dead,” you continued, voice rising, as though Wanda hadn’t spoken at all. “Death would be too good for him! I want him to feel pain, pain like he has never experienced before in his long, utterly useless life!”

“Pocket,” Nat warned. She knew you were dangerously close to saying something you might eventually come to regret.

You sighed, the rage fleeting and leaving you feeling hollow and broken. “I know,” you said. “I don’t really mean it. I’m just so goddamned hurt!”

“I know it’s difficult to believe this right now,” Wanda said, taking a step closer to put a hand on your shoulder, “but he does still love you– he said he—”

“No,” you interrupted, sounding every bit as defeated as you felt. “You don’t do that to someone you love. You just don’t. This morning, he talked about getting our own place, getting married, starting a fucking family.” You choked back your emotions, but your voice still cracked. “I thought he was ready to take things to the next step, to prove how much I meant to him, but he was just trying to distract me, trying to get me out of the Tower because he couldn’t risk me running into her, couldn’t risk her telling me the fucking truth he was too much of a coward to admit.”

Nat and Wanda looked from you to each other, lost in their sense of helplessness, of not knowing how to care for you in your time of need.

“You know,” you went on, “I probably would have forgiven him, if he had just straight up told me the truth. I mean, we weren’t even technically together, so it wasn’t cheating. If he’d said ‘I’m sorry, Pocket. I saw those articles and I went fucking crazy with jealousy. All I could think about was getting back at you because I thought you betrayed me.’ Yeah, I’d have been pissed, and it might have taken a while, but I could have forgiven him if he had just been fucking honest with me. That’s all I ever asked of him. That he just be fucking honest. But he’s lied to me, again and again and again.

“He took away my right to make an informed choice about my own fucking life,” you said, and this time, the emotions couldn’t be held back. “He, of all fucking people, should know what that feels like,” you sobbed. “He should know how valuable that choice is! How valuable it is to me!” And there it was, really, the crux of the matter. He knew how much you valued the freedom you now had over your own life, after so many years of not having any choices in what happened to your own body, and he’d stolen your ability to make a choice for yourself. He’d had sex with you, knowing you never would have consented if you knew he’d been with Carthage less than 24 hours prior. He’d violated so much more than your trust this time.

Nat stood up and raced over to you, throwing her arms around you. Wanda looked on for a moment, confused, before joining Nat in embracing you.

The entire time you’d been speaking to your friends, your phone had been silently vibrating. You’d turned the ringer off as soon as you texted Nat and Wanda, asking them to meet you. You didn’t need to look at the screen to know that it was Bucky who was trying to get ahold of you. If you’d been in a better frame of mind, you’d have laughed at the irony– here you had spent all day yesterday waiting on a text or call from him that never came, and now he was blowing up your phone and you couldn’t stand the thought of speaking to or hearing from him. Life was sure funny sometimes.

“Ms. (Y/L/N), Ms. Romanoff, Ms. Maximoff,” FRIDAY’s voice rang through your borrowed room. “Mr. Stark is requesting everyone’s presence in Conference Room C for a mandatory pre-mission briefing to begin in ten minutes.”

“Fucking Tony,” you moaned. A mandatory meeting meant a mandatory encounter with Bucky, and you were so not ready for that yet.

“Don’t worry,” Wanda said, squeezing your hands. “Natasha and I won’t leave your side. He won’t be able to get near you. I’ll put a forcefield up around you if I have to.”

You managed to sniff out a laugh and wiped your nose. “Thanks, Wands. I really appreciate it.” Steeling yourself, you stood up from your chair. “Let’s go see what Tony wants.”

Chapter 19: Unfriended

Chapter Text

You felt your resolve crumbling the closer you got to the conference room. With each step you took, your righteous anger morphed a little closer to soul-destroying sorrow.

"I just can't believe Bucky would do this to you," Wanda said as she walked alongside you. "He loves you so much. Everyone can see it."

"Apparently not enough to keep his cock out of places it doesn't belong," Nat growled.

"Natasha!" Wanda scolded. "Not helping."

"I'm sorry, but I'm not just going to sit here and pretend that this dipshit didn't just betray our best friend in the absolute worst way possible," she argued. "I will fucking kill him."

"How do you want to go forward with this, Pocket?" Wanda asked. "We'll follow whatever lead you take, right Natasha?" She cast a pointed look in Nat's direction.

You shook your head, not knowing how you were going to go forward, how you were going to keep living knowing what Bucky had done. "I don't know how to live without him," you whispered.

"You're not seriously thinking of forgiving that scumbag?" Natasha asked you, incredulous.

"No, I'm not saying that at all. It's just..." You let out a shuddering breath. "Why is this happening? What did I do?"

"Oh, honey," Wanda said, wrapping her arms around you. "You didn't do anything. He's a man and men are idiots."

“Viz an idiot, too?” you asked, managing to find the strength to give her a small smile.

“Ah, but see,” Wanda said, grinning at you, “Viz isn’t a man. He’s a sentient android with anatomical male… attributes.”

That earned a chuckle from you, and Wanda beamed, pleased she’d been able to cheer you up, no matter how briefly it lasted.

Your phone buzzed in Nat's hands; you’d asked her to hold onto, afraid that you’d answer one of Bucky’s calls in a moment of weakness. "He's calling again," she said, holding the device out as though it would catch on fire. "What do you want me to do?"

"Just decline the call," you begged. "I... I can't talk to him right this second."

"No, of course not," Wanda soothed. "But sweetie, you are going to have to confront him at some point. You can't just hide from him forever. The Tower's not that big, and he’s going to be at this meeting."

You closed your eyes and tried to take a centering breath. It didn't help. "I know, trust me, I know. I just... I just don't know how to do this. I've never had my heart broken like this before. I thought he was it. I thought this was forever."

"Hey," Nat stopped in front of you, taking both your hands in her own, "you can do this. You are amazing, the smartest woman and one of the best people I know, and if Barnes can't see that, that's his fucking loss. You deserve better than someone who can't see what he had right in front of him. And if he can have his head so easily turned by Jade Fucking Carthage?" She spat the name out. "He's an idiot and they deserve each other."

You found yourself nodding along with what she was saying.

"And if you find yourself feeling down, and wanting him back," she continued, "remember that this son of a bitch fucked her TWICE on a mission while you were stuck home, puking your guts out."

As she spoke, you felt your agony seep out of you, replaced once again with white hot rage. Nat was right. Bucky Barnes was a fucking asshole. You'd already wasted the last year and a half on him and you'd be damned if you were going to waste a second more. You took the pain you felt and buried it, deep down with all the other pain life had dealt you, far below the surface where it could no longer reach you. Not the best coping mechanism, but it had gotten you through life so far. You took a deep breath.

"You're right," you said to Nat. "Fuck him. I gave him everything I had, and this is what I get in return? No. He can choke on a bag of dicks for all I care. He's dead to me."

"That's my girl!" grinned Nat.

"Pocket, are you sure that's the best way to go about this?" Wanda asked gently. "Maybe you should sit down and talk to him."

"No," you said, perhaps a little too forcefully, "he lost his chance at a conversation when he failed to tell me the truth and tried to get his skank to cover for him. I told him that I could take anything except for lies, and he did it anyway. I don't owe him shit."

The three of you finally approached the doors to the conference room. "You going to be able to do this?" Nat asked you.

"Yes. I can do this. Just..." you sighed, "just don't let him near me, okay?"

Nat and Wanda shared a look. "I think that, between the two of us, we can manage that," Nat said.

*

Once inside the conference room, your friends made sure to sit you between the two of them, so that Bucky couldn't park himself next to you. Unfortunately, there wasn't much they could do to keep him from taking the seat across from you.

"Hey," he said as he sat down, "I've been trying to call you; thought we could go get some lunch before returning to our previously scheduled activities. Where've you been?" You acted as though you hadn't heard him, pretending you were extremely interested in something on your phone. It didn't escape your notice, however, when Jade entered the room and sat down in the seat next to him, Bucky instinctively shifted his seat away from her slightly. She glanced between the two of you, a smug smile playing across her lips.

"Jamie," she greeted. "How's things?"

"Carthage," he huffed in response. You made the mistake of catching his eye for a brief second, and he offered you a tentative smile before you immediately hardened your expression and turned away.

Nat jotted down a sentence in her notebook and slid the paper over to you. Your puppy looks like you just kicked him in the face and he can't figure out why.

You suppressed a snicker and wrote back I can't reward a mongrel for indiscriminately humping bitches, can I? You quickly worked to scribble over your words as Natasha positively cackled at you, drawing everyone's attention.

"You alright there, Nat?" Tony asked as he entered the room, moving toward the front of the space and getting ready to begin the meeting. Nat coughed and took a sip from her water bottle.

"Just peachy, Tony," she answered, stifling a smile. "Just peachy."

"Okay, good. Let's get this started, then." He opened up his tablet and flicked a projection over the table. It was a series of photographs of about two dozen or so young women, all looking to be in their late teens to early thirties. "These women," Tony began, "have all been reported missing from the vicinity of Atlantic City over the last eighteen months. They've all got a history of either drugs, prostitution, or both, so the local police aren't interested in wasting valuable resources tracking them down. Fortunately for them, my resources are endless." He gave a sad smile, then with another flick of his wrist, brought up a three-dimensional schematic of a squat building. "This is called the Wiggle Room. It's a Russian-owned club where at least half of the missing girls were dancers at some point in the last three years."

"You're thinking trafficking," you spoke up. It wasn't a question. You knew the signs too well, after all. Tony nodded.

"That's horrible," said Jade "but, I mean, we're the Avengers. Isn't trafficking kind of... I dunno, below our paygrade?"

If looks could kill, you and Natasha would have murdered her on the spot. Bucky rolled his eyes before leaning over and murmuring something to Jade that you couldn't quite hear, but you had a pretty good idea what it was when her face turned red and she looked at the two of you and muttered "Oh, sorry-- I didn't know."

Your next murder-by-death stare went to Bucky. How fucking dare he divulge your secrets to her, especially when you told him he was only one of three people on this entire fucking planet who knew them? You told him that in confidence. He had absolutely no right. He just shrugged at you apologetically. Fucking shrugged. You were going to throw up. How many times was he going to betray you?

"As I was saying," Tony continued, as though Jade hadn't interrupted him, and you were grateful for it, "we want to put a couple of people on the inside, work there for a few months, see what they can find out."

"Oooh!" said Jade, bouncing in her seat and raising her hand like she was in grade school. "I volunteer!" She turned to stage whisper to Bucky. "Wouldn't I make an absolutely adorable stripper? It would be so much fun!"

Bucky had the good sense, for once in his life, to roll his eyes at Jade as Tony spoke up: “You’re benched, Carthage,” he said matter of factly. “Which reminds me; we need to have a discussion about how you managed to sneak your ass onto the Russia mission.

You felt a sick sense of satisfaction when you saw the look of chastisement cross Jade’s face, and were overcome with a renewed curiosity over just how she happened to get herself on that Quinjet in the first place. Not that it mattered, not anymore.

"So, do you think you'd be up for it, Pocket?" Tony turned to you. "Willing to dust off those pasties and jump back on the pole one last time?"

You smirked, having suspected that the ask was coming as soon as he mentioned a strip club. "What can I say, Boss? It'll be like riding a bike."

"Good, because maintenance is putting a practice pole in your room as we speak. Don't want you looking rusty undercover."

"As if I could ever!” You pretended to be affronted.

"Hold up," said Steve, and suddenly, you could feel all eyes on you. Oops. You’d forgotten that part of your history was also not common knowledge. You glanced around and everyone was staring; Sam's mouth was even hanging open. "Are you saying Pocket used to be a stripper?" Steve whispered the last word, as though it was naughty and he'd get in trouble for using it.

"Hey," you said nonchalantly, shrugging your shoulders, "MIT ain't cheap."

"I'll have you know, Cap, that exotic dancing is a craft, and our Pocket here is an artist." You beamed at Tony's words, pride flushing through you. Your past as a dancer wasn't something that you necessarily led conversations with, but you weren't ashamed of it. The money had been excellent, and you'd been good at it. Damned good.

"You've seen her?" Sam asked, mouth still hanging open.

"How do you think we met?" Tony asked him, as if it was the stupidest question in the world.

"No," said Bucky, out of nowhere, his voice hard and angry. He stood up, fists planted on the table, glaring at you.

"It was definitely while she was working at a strip club" Tony said, deliberately mistaking Bucky's meaning. "It's not everyday you get a comparative analysis of the weaknesses of your company's firewalls at the same time you get a lap dance; tends to leave a lasting impression."

"No, I mean Pocket's not going undercover. She's just a civilian and it's too dangerous. Send Natasha or Jade in, instead," Bucky bit out through gritted teeth.

"Excuse me?" You stood up, as well, mirroring his stance and matching his glare from across the table. "You do not get to determine what missions are too dangerous for me, James. You're not my father."

"But I'm your boyfriend," he said, and the fact that you had called him 'James,' and not 'Bucky' or 'Barnes' wasn't lost on him. "And I care about whether or not you get hurt."

You laughed, cold and mirthless. "Since when?" you spat, letting every ounce of pain you felt at his betrayal into your voice. He looked back at you, hurt and abject confusion clouding his features.

"If you're so worried about her, then you can go, too," Tony said. "Go as her boyfriend, get a job at the club as a bouncer. We need multiple sets of eyes."

Bucky seemed almost mollified by this suggestion, but you were not going to allow it. "Absolutely not," you said, the conviction ringing in your voice. "Sam'll come with me."

"What?" both Sam and the super soldier asked at the same time.

"Barnes is way too identifiable with that metal arm," you offered by way of explanation. "No way in hell I'll keep my cover if I walk in with the fucking Winter Soldier by my side."

"She's got a point," Steve said, scratching his chin. "But Pocket, language, please." You stole a glance at Bucky, and his eyes were full of pain. You'd called him the Winter Soldier. Out loud. You'd never done that; you knew how hard he worked to differentiate himself from the monster Hydra had turned him into. It was a low blow on your part, but you couldn't find it in you to give a shit.

Tony clapped his hands. "All right, then it's settled. Pocket and Sam will go to Atlantic City. It's strictly an intel-finding mission, only. No heroics, got it you two?" You both nodded in agreement. While you were excited to go out into the field in an undercover capacity, you had no desire to see combat. Sure, you could more than handle your own if it came down to self-defense-- Nat had made sure of that, but there was a reason you were the computer girl and not an actual superhero yourself. "Pocket, get practicing. You've got about a week before we’ll be sending you and Sam out; don’t want you embarrassing me up there. Any questions? No? Good. That's it, then, class adjourned.

"Oh, and one more thing," he said before everyone could collect themselves, "don't forget, our girl's turning 35 on Saturday. The party starts at eight. Dress to kill, because I'm going all out for this one."

You couldn't help the blush that crept up your face, despite the rollercoaster of anger and agony you’d been feeling. When Tony had approached you about throwing you a birthday party, you'd demurred, telling him you were too old for one, but he had insisted that, since you'd missed out on so many childhood experiences because of what your parents had put you through, you were going to get a party to remember.

You got up and gathered your things, purposefully avoiding Bucky as Nat and Wanda glared at him while they waited to escort you out. You were eager to get up to your new room so you could start researching the missing women and this strip club and, a part of you admitted with a smile, get practicing your old routine and come up with a couple of new ones. It was just the thing you needed to take your mind off of your current troubles.

“Pocket, Sam,” Tony called, catching your attention, “hold back a minute; I want to go over some details with you.”

Nat and Wanda looked at you, but you encouraged them to go on; Steve had made a beeline toward Bucky after the meeting had been adjourned and, despite Bucky lingering, obviously waiting to speak with you, had managed to steer him out of the room to discuss something you couldn’t give a shit about.

“It’s fine, guys,” you told your friends. “He’s gone; I should be able to get back up to the room without trouble.

They exchanged a glance, then looked back at you. Nodding, they left.

“Pocket,” Tony said, once the conference room was clear and it was just the two of you and Sam remaining, “care to tell me why FRIDAY says you’ve moved rooms?”

“Not at the current moment, Boss,” you said. You didn’t want to rehash the drama you’d been thrown into against your will, let alone in front of a completely innocent bystander. Instead, you encouraged him to get on with whatever more he needed to tell you and Sam about the parameters of the mission. Hopefully, it would distract you enough to take your mind off of the sheer agony you felt inside.

*

You left the conference room with a better idea of what Tony was hoping you’d be able to accomplish, and you were feeling slightly optimistic for the first time all day: You actually had a chance to help women escape the hell you’d lived in for seven years, and you were going to do your damnedest to do right by them.

You hadn't gotten very far down the hallway toward the elevator when you felt the cold, vice-like grip of a vibranium hand take hold of your wrist and pull you into a storage closet.

"Jesus Christ, Barnes," you yelled, wrenching your arm out of his grasp and rubbing the skin where he'd grabbed you. "What the hell?"

"Funny, I was just about to ask you the same thing." His eyes were dark. He was angry at you. Of all the fucking nerve. He had the gall to be angry at you? "What the hell, Pocket? What was that back there?"

Well, you thought, I guess this is actually happening.

"Really?" you asked, your voice calmer than you could have ever imagined it being. "Can't think of a single reason I'd be upset with you?"

"What are you talking about?" he asked, seeming genuinely confused. "We were fine this morning. Fuck, we talked about getting place of our own, for Christ's sake."

"Yeah," you said, "that's not going to be happening. Ever." He had the audacity to look hurt.

"What do you mean?" He reached for you, but you pulled away from him, trying to put as much distance between you as possible in the cramped space. "Sweetheart, talk to me. Whatever's wrong, we can figure it out together."

"How was Russia, James?" you asked, ignoring the concern in his voice. "Anything... I dunno, exciting happen over there? Twice, maybe?" You watched with a sense of sick satisfaction as all the color drained from Bucky's face and a look of panic overtook him.

"I-I don't know what you mean," he stammered.

"Please," you scoffed. "If there's one thing we can both agree on, it’s that I’m not intellectually stupid. Emotionally? Obviously. But not intellectually. Don't insult my intelligence by acting like you don't know exactly what I'm talking about."

"Whatever Carthage told you," Bucky said, trying to draw close to you again, slowly, as if approaching a wounded animal, "she's lying to you."

"Oh, no worries-- Jade didn't tell me anything, so no need to follow through on your threat to kill her and make sure no one ever finds her body, which, by the way, what the actual fuck?!"

"Doll, you gotta understand," he began, but you cut him off.

“No,” you said, putting a hand up to keep the distance between you. “I’m tired of being understanding when it comes to you, James.” You watched him flinch at your use of his government name. Good. “I’m tired of giving you second chances you don’t deserve. I’m tired of your fucking lies. I am so tired of you.”

You reached into your pocket and took out his phone. “Here,” you said, shoving it into his chest, “you left this when you went to your debrief.”

Bucky clutched the phone, looking between it and you. “You… you went through it?”

“Of course I fucking did!” you seethed. “Imagine my surprise when I picked it up, planning on just pocketing it to give back to you when I next saw you, only to see a notification for a new message from Jade fucking Carthage. The girl whose number I blocked from this very phone. The girl who, you swore to me, you were never going to speak to or be alone with again. Imagine how absolutely devastating that was.”

“You weren’t supposed to read those messages,” Bucky said, his voice low and full of sorrow. “I never intended for you to see them.”

“Well, no fucking shit, Barnes,” you said, throwing your hands in the air. “Kinda defeats the point of having a secret affair if the girlfriend knows about it, doesn’t it?”

“But it wasn’t like that!” Bucky exclaimed, desperate for you to believe him. “I didn’t intend for it to happen. It was an accident! I never meant--"

"Oh, an accident? My bad; I didn't realize you'd 'accidentally' tripped and got your penis stuck in her vagina. Two fucking times." You were hit with a realization. "Was this why you didn't call me when you were supposed to? Why you never returned my messages? Were you lying about your phone dying?"

"Yes, but--"

"For fucks' sake, James!" You were shouting now. "I fucking knew something was going on between you two. I fucking KNEW it, but no, you assured me it was nothing, that I was overreacting. That you loved me. I thought I was losing my fucking mind with insecurity, and meanwhile you've been fucking her behind my back and feeding me bullshit about how much you wanted to be with me."

"Baby, no!" Tears began pooling in Bucky's eyes, but they didn't sway you. "I swear, Russia was the only time anything happened. I promise you."

"See, here's the thing: your promises don't mean shit, James," you spat. "I can't believe a word that comes out of your lying mouth. I'd ask you why, but I wouldn't believe whatever bullshit you'd tell me."

"Because I thought you were with Steve," he blurted out, as if desperately grasping for any chance at making you understand. "I saw the news articles from the gala, and I was so angry! I– I wanted to make you hurt as much as I thought you hurt me…"

His words left you momentarily speechless. "You took the word of fucking trash rags as gospel, thinking I would do that to you? That STEVE would do that to you? And before even thinking about talking it over with me, you decided the smart choice was to go balls deep in the one person who I've been begging you to stay away from for months? That you swore I didn't have to worry about?" God, he seemed so pathetic to you now. “You just made the executive decision that I was a piece of shit? I’ve been to enough therapy sessions to recognize projection when I see it.”

"I'm sorry! I know I fucked up. Please, please just tell me what I have to do to make this right. What can I do to fix this? I'll do anything. You want me to never speak to Jade again? Done."

"That's just it, James," you said, the fight leaving you. "There's nothing that you can do. This is over. We're done. I refuse to do this any longer."

"Sweetheart, please," he cried, "please, you can't mean that. Don't talk like that."

"James..."

"Stop calling me 'James'!" he sobbed. "'m not 'James,' 'm your Bucky. 'm always your Bucky."

You shook your head sadly. "'My Bucky' died the second you decided to sleep with her, and there's no bringing him back. Welcome to the consequences of your actions, James. I hope you and Carthage are happy together. You fucking deserve each other." You started for the door, but Bucky grabbed your wrist before you could grasp the handle.

"Please," he moaned, "this-- this can't be it. We can't end like this. We were supposed to be forever."

You pulled your hand out of his grasp and opened the door. "You should have thought about that before you broke my heart," you whispered. “Again.”

"I don't know how to live without you," he murmured.

"Well, you better figure out how to fucking start," you said as you made your way out the door. "When I get back from this mission, I'm moving out of the Tower. Alone." The idea had just come to you at that moment, but you knew it was the right thing to do. You couldn't stand to live under the same roof as Bucky any longer, let alone across the hall.

"But this is your home," he pleaded. "You don't need to leave it."

"You were my home," you told him. "I don't have one anymore." And you left him standing in the open doorway of the storage closet, alone and crying.

Chapter 20: Uninhibited

Chapter Text

The rest of the week was awful. You distracted yourself as best you could, practicing your dance routines on the pole Tony had reluctantly transferred to your new, temporary space. Thank goodness you’d kept yourself in shape over the years; you’d forgotten how much core and upper body strength pole dancing required. Yet the movements came back to you with ease, muscle memory that allowed your mind to wander, which wasn’t always necessarily a good thing.

You were still vomiting, though not as severely. One early morning, after nausea had pulled you from a restless sleep and you were hanging your head, exhausted, over the toilet bowl once more, you had the terrifying thought that Jade had been poisoning you this entire time, deliberately, to take you off the mission with Bucky so she could insert herself. You wondered, horrified, if she and Bucky had been in on it, together. If it had been their plan all along to get you out of the way.

You shook your head, dispersing the ridiculous thought. Bucky was careless with your heart, but you didn’t think he actively hated you. Emotionally, he obviously didn’t give a flying fuck how much pain he caused you, but he wouldn’t physically harm you. Carthage, on the other hand, well, you thought her entirely capable of such a thing. But how would she have the access without ensuring others were getting sick, too?

No, your overtired imagination was getting the better of you, and you were more than eager to paint Jade as the villain in any circumstance that might present itself. The truth of it was, she’d already done enough damage; you didn’t have to invent more.

You tried your best to avoid Bucky, but as Wanda and Nat had warned you, it was easier said than done. Though Tony had allowed you to restrict access to your new floor to ensure Bucky couldn’t follow you to your room, he still managed to always be around every time you ventured out throughout the Tower.

He only tried to engage with you once, two days after your storage closet confrontation, but you’d turned and immediately walked in the opposite direction. Everything was too raw, the pain too new, for you to be near him at the moment. Just the sight of him broke you apart all over again. The sooner you were out of the Tower for your mission, the better.

You’d warned him that if he couldn’t stay away from Carthage, you’d ice him out in such a way that he’d long for the warmth of Siberia. It was only fair for him to experience the consequences of his own actions.

As your birthday approached, you felt even worse. Before everything had gone to hell, Bucky had talked about taking a trip, just the two of you, to celebrate, but like all his other honeyed promises, it turned out to be nothing but bitter lies. You resented him for taking away any excitement you’d felt for your upcoming party, for destroying your chance to feel an emotion even close to resembling happiness, even with something that had nothing to do with him.

So, you stayed confined to your room as much as possible, practicing and researching, hoping that, with enough time, you’d finally manage to bury all of the pain beneath enough layers of ice to numb yourself.

*

"How do I look?" you asked Wanda and Nat as you came out of your bathroom in your outfit for the party. When Tony had told you your party was going to be 90s themed, you'd been over the moon, since the last time you had a birthday party was probably actually in the 90s. Yes, you'd all gone out for drinks and dancing when you turned 21, and then for a fancy dinner when you turned 30, but it was the first time you'd actually given in to Tony's pleading to let him throw you an actual party, and he was pulling out all the stops, so you wanted to make sure you looked your best. And if looking your best happened to stick it to a certain super soldier, well, that was just a bonus.

"Oh my God," said Nat at the same time Wanda whispered "Holy shit." You were wearing a black leather mini skirt with thigh-high boots and a navy and silver handkerchief top that barely covered your tits. You'd curled your long hair into loose, beachy waves and Nat had done your makeup.

"You look like a fucking seductress," Nat nodded in appreciation.

"Barnes is not going to know what hit him," Wanda concurred.

"If Barnes knows what's good for him," you replied, putting in a pair of large silver hoop earrings and checking out how they looked in the mirror, "he won't even show up tonight. Besides, I only have two goals for the evening: Celebrating my birthday with my best friends and; Getting over one man by getting under another one."

"Amen to that!" Nat cheered, raising a glass of pre-game champagne Tony had delivered to your suite. "Tonight, you flirt with anything that has a penis." Catching Wanda's pointed expression, she added "Anything that has a penis that is not already committed to another vagina." Wanda smiled appreciatively.

"Please, Natty" you said, grabbing your own glass of champagne and toasting with her, "tonight, I'm flirting with anything that has a pulse."

"That's my girl!" Nat wrapped an arm around you and squeezed. You would have fun tonight, Bucky Barnes be damned.

You could hear the thumping of the bass long before you reached the doors of the banquet hall. The party was already in full swing. Before you entered, though, Nat grabbed onto your elbow and palmed something into your hand.

"Happy Birthday, Pocket," she said with a wink, before letting you go and allowing you to open your palm. Nestled inside was a small, white pill.

"Nat!" hissed Wanda as loudly as she could to be heard over the bass, "did you just hand Pocket drugs?!"

"Relax, Wanda," Nat said, rubbing the other girl's arm. Turning to you, she added "It's just some molly. Take it if Barnes shows up and you need to manufacture yourself a bit more fun, that's all." And she threw you a wink. "Just don't tell Mom and Dad."

"Thanks, Natty, but, if anything," you said with a smile, putting the little pill in your pocket in case you needed it later, "Tony'll be pissed you didn't bring enough for the whole class." You hoped you weren't going to need it, but it was rather comforting having it on hand. You hadn't done MDMA in years, and the idea of taking it again was thrilling.

"Fine," said Wanda, and you could both tell she wasn't thrilled with your actions. "Let's just go inside and have a good time, okay?" The three of you linked arms and made your way through the doors to the banquet hall.

It had been positively transformed. Usually, it was the place where Tony held his fancy dinners for visiting heads of state who wanted a look at what the Avengers did all day, tonight it had become a rave out of a fairy tale. There were bubble machines sending cascades of multi-colored bubbles through the air, everyone dancing with glow-sticks, and a DJ booth hung suspended from the ceiling. Tony had brought in what you suspected were real trees and had decked them out with twinkling fairy lights; there was even a fountain in the middle of the dance floor. It was something straight out of your dreams.

The room was crawling with hundreds of people. Most of them you vaguely recognized as people who worked in various positions in the Tower, some old colleagues from Stark Industries, and friends from outside of work, but scattered throughout were the members of your family. You spotted Clint and Laura dancing together in a corner of the dance floor while Nirvana's About a Girl blared, Sam flirting with three different women at the same time, and Thor over by the bar with Steve, a bottle of Asgardian liquor being passed around between them. Maria Hill was sitting in a lounge chair talking with Helen Cho and Vision. You were pleased to see neither Bucky nor Jade in your initial sweep of the room. With any luck, they wouldn’t have the balls to show their faces.

"This is incredible," you murmured, though you were sure neither of your friends heard you over the roar of the music. No one had noticed you'd arrived just yet, so you took the moment of anonymity to just soak it all in. Tony and Pepper had done all of this for you. You couldn't think about it for too long, or you would start to cry right there. They weren't connected to you by blood, but they loved you better than your real family ever had, and you were struck with an overwhelming surge of gratitude and appreciation for them both.

"Oh no!" Nat shouted over to Wanda. "She's getting misty-eyed! We need to get her a drink, STAT!"

You laughed as your two best friends dragged you to the bar. As you entered the throng, people began converging on you, wishing you a Happy Birthday and giving you more hugs than you'd probably ever received in your entire life. It was impossible to not feel the absolute love that came from everyone around you. You nearly toppled over when Wanda pointed out the giant table of presents that sat, waiting for you, in the far corner of the room. Never in your entire life had you felt so appreciated, and coming on the heels of how Bucky had discarded you, you felt your heart soar with love for all of these amazing people.

At the bar, you caught the attention of Thor and Steve, the latter doing a double take at the sight of you. Thor immediately enveloped you in a bear hug, his massive arms dwarfing your body as he picked you up.

"Happy Birthday, my Lady Pocket," he bellowed, planting a loud, sloppy kiss on your cheek. "I would offer you some of my Asgardian mead in celebration, but I fear it would be far too potent for your tiny human body to handle. I would not want to be responsible for your death on this day we celebrate your life."

"Thanks, Thor," you said as he finally put you back down, "I'm fine with good old Earth alcohol tonight."

The bartender handed you a frozen drink without your asking. "It's tonight's signature cocktail," he responded to your confused expression. "The Plum Pocket." Your face soured. The Plum Pocket was a drink you'd invented for Bucky months and months ago. Half of a plum because he loved the taste of them so much, strawberries, (because you loved them), raspberry liquor, lemon syrup, vodka, and a bit of sugar blended with ice into an almost smoothie-like consistency, with some lemon zest for garnish. How would Tony even know about them?

No, you were not going to think about Bucky Barnes tonight. You were going to enjoy your drink, dance, and get your flirt on. In that order. There was no room on tonight's agenda for wallowing in self pity over someone who didn't give a shit about you enough to keep his dick in his pants.

You took a sip. It was damned delicious.

"Hey," a soft voice spoke to you over your shoulder. You turned and looked up into Steve's face. His eyes were slightly glassy.

"Enjoying that Asgardian mead, Cap?" you asked with a teasing grin.

He smiled, a flush creeping up his cheeks at being called out. "Happy Birthday, Pocket. I um... I wanted to tell you, you look really pretty tonight."

The compliment took you aback. You didn't think Steve had ever complimented you on your looks before. He must be far more drunk than you first thought. "Thanks, Steve," you responded with a smile. "I'm glad you're here."

"I'm glad you're here," he murmured.

Before you could say anything else to him, there was a drop in the music, and a spotlight lit up Tony Stark in the DJ booth, dressed in his full Iron Man glory.

"Ladies and gentlemen, distinguished guests, and the handful of people who accidentally wandered in from the fury convention," Tony began, his amplified voice carrying over the crowd, "welcome to the party of the century! I want to thank all of you for coming here tonight to celebrate someone very special to me, to all of us. She's like the kid sister I never wanted, in that now that I've got her, I couldn't get rid of her even if I tried." The crowd laughed and you hid your face in your hands. "Fortunately, I like having her around too much. She's got a brilliant mind, she's funny as hell, and she's the beating heart of this team. Without her, the Avengers would just be a group of coworkers, and not a family. And let's be honest, she's one of the few people who's willing to tolerate me on a daily basis." Somehow, his eyes were able to find yours in the crowd and he gave you a classic Tony wink; you blew him a kiss back. "So, everyone, please raise a glass to (Y/N) (Y/L/N), or as we like to call her, our own little Pocket! Pocket, Happy Birthday, kiddo! We love you! So, everyone, grab a drink, don't hold back on the dance floor, because, let's face it, I spent a fortune on hiring the best DJ in New York City, and let's make some bad decisions! Except for you, Parker. Jesus is watching."

Through the crowd you could just make out Peter's soft voice saying "Aw, come on Mr. Stark," and you broke into laughter. God, you loved these people.

"Let's go," said Nat, grabbing you by the arm and hauling you to the middle of the dance floor, "it's time to dance!"

The beats were dirty and your body responded to them like a siren's call, your hips moving subconsciously to the rhythm. Dancing was one of your favorite ways to lose yourself, and so you did, melting into the sound, letting your body take you wherever it needed to go. You felt a pair of arms wrap around your waist, and you instinctively knew it was Natasha behind you.

"Bruce not coming out to the floor?" you whisper-shouted into her ear as she moved her body against yours.

"No, he's being a dullard," Nat responded with a sigh.

"Give him time," you told her knowingly. "Once he's been watching you move your ass out here long enough, he'll cave just so he can get his hands on you. He always does."

"I know," she said, grinding her chest against your back, "but I do love giving him a show."

You laughed and continued dancing with your friend. You knew Bruce would come to her eventually. The poor man couldn't stay away, no matter how hard he'd tried in the beginning.

Slowly, the members of your little family found their way to you on the dance floor, and you were all dancing together in a group. Even Bruce had gotten over himself and had finally joined Natasha, who was now running her hands along his chest.

You had to admit, you were having the time of your life.

But then you saw them.

Bucky stood at the bar, Jade not far away. You tried to ignore him, you really did, but his eyes were boring a hole straight through you, and he looked amazing. He was wearing a pair of tight black jeans and the shirt you had gotten him last Christmas, the one that matched the color of his eyes. He'd cut his hair again, just the length you liked it-- the perfect length for pulling while he had his face buried between your-- No. You were NOT going to think about that.

Wanda had moved away from where she'd been dancing with Vision and came over to you, following the line of your eyes. "He has a lot of fucking nerve showing up here with her," she spat. "Do you want me to kick them out of here for you, love?"

You turned and wrapped your arms around her, smiling at her fierce protectiveness of you. "As much as I would love to see it, Wan, it's okay. I think I just want to pretend he doesn't exist and keep dancing. The last thing I need is them ruining my party by bringing more drama into my life."

Wanda put a hand on your elbow and shrugged, then leaned in to whisper "Suit yourself, but my offer still stands if you change your mind," before heading back over to Vision. You sighed, disappointed that the sight of him had dulled your excitement for the evening. But then you remembered Nat's gift.

Reaching into your pocket, you pulled out the tiny pill. You considered your options for half a second before tossing it into your mouth and swallowing it. You were not going to let Bucky Fucking Barnes ruin your birthday.

A couple of hours later, after an enormous cake had been brought out, everyone singing to you and you blowing out your candles, you were feeling positively euphoric. Everything felt amazing. You were so in love with every single person in the room, you could cry. Your limbs were buzzing, as if the music was vibrating through them and your entire body was being poured full of liquid joy. You were connected to everyone. They were all a part of you, and you were a part of them.

You moved to the music, your hands caressing up and down your body, the sensation of touch almost overpowering in its intensity. You practically moaned when Natasha leaned over and whispered in your ear:

"Don't look now, but Steve's been staring at you for the last twenty minutes." You glanced over and noticed the super soldier standing at the bar next to Bucky, but in the clarity of the MDMA, Steve was all you could see. He was watching you intently, his eyes locked on the movement of your hips. You watched him lick his lips as your hands brushed across your chest, sending a wave of shivering pleasure through your body.

You didn't know why, but suddenly, it seemed like a really, really good idea to have Steve come dance with you, so you caught his eye and beckoned him over with a curl of your finger.

You laughed when you saw his eyes grow wide with surprise. He pointed at himself, as if he couldn't believe you were beckoning to him. You nodded and, chugging the rest of his drink before leaving the empty glass on the bar, he made his way to you.

"Hi," he said over the sound of the music when he was standing in front of you. God, he was so much taller than you were. Like a giant. Sublime's Badfish began to play.

"Hi," you hummed, the feelings of ecstasy pulsating through you. "Do you want to dance with me?" You watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed hard.

"Very much," he said, so softly that you wouldn't have been able to make it out if you hadn't read his lips. "But I don't really know how to dance to this music."

"I can teach you," you smiled up at him. Turning around, you put your back to his chest. Grabbing his left arm, you wrapped it across your bare stomach, splaying his fingers across your scorching skin. You put his right hand on your hip and let out a soft moan when he squeezed your flesh.

"Just move with me," you whispered, knowing that his enhanced hearing would catch your words through all the extra noise. Your entire body was pressed against his now, and the feeling of his hard muscles against you was sensational. You never wanted him to stop touching you. You slowly started grinding your hips against him, laughing a little when you heard him gasp. He began sliding his hand across your stomach, once or twice brushing the underside of your breasts with his thumb. Each touch was like a wave of light pulsating through you and you craved it. You could feel the length of his semi-hard erection pressing into your back, and somewhere in the far recesses of your mind, the idea of it surprised and concerned you, but in your current state, all you could do was feel. And you felt so. god. damned. good.

You leaned your head back against his chest, reaching back to grab a hold of his bicep and exposing the curve of your neck, and when he reached down and began planting small butterfly kisses where your neck met your shoulder, you thought you were going to come undone right there.

"You're so beautiful, Pocket," he whispered before taking your earlobe between his teeth and nibbling on it. Everything he did, everywhere your bodies connected, felt like pure magic.

You noticed the looks that you were getting from Nat, Wanda, and the others, but you didn't register them. The only thing that mattered right now was how good you felt, how good Steve was making you feel.

You weren't sure how much time went by. The songs changed, your tempo fluctuated, the people around you came and went, but the contact remained the same.

Finally, you turned yourself around in his arms, pressing your chest to his. He looked down at you, the blue of his eyes a mere ring around the black of his pupils.

"Stevie," you whispered, your voice husky, "will you take me back to my room?"

His lips curled up in a wicked grin and for the briefest of moments, you saw Bucky in your mind's eye, but you quickly shook the image away. Steve took you by the hand and, without another word, led you away from the party to the solitude of your bedroom.

Chapter 21: Unacceptable

Chapter Text

You woke up the following morning completely hungover, but in good spirits, nonetheless. You had had an amazing time at your party, and not even Bucky and Jade's surprise appearance could have put a damper on your evening. And, if you had told yourself yesterday that you would wake up with Steve Rogers in bed next to you, you would have laughed in your own face.

Life certainly was surprising.

Sometime in the night, your handkerchief top had gotten all twisted around you, and was no longer doing much to cover your chest, so you discarded it and grabbed Steve's button up shirt from where he had tossed it on the floor, putting it on to cover yourself and laughing when you saw it completely covered the skirt you were wearing. The man was massive. You stood up and stretched, your body aching from all of the previous night's physical activity.

Looking over your shoulder, your gaze fell across the giant super soldier spread out on his stomach in your bed, his blond hair tousled and going in every direction.

"Take a picture; it will last longer," he murmured, not opening his eyes.

You laughed and crawled back onto the bed to sit next to him. "Rise and shine, Stevie," you sang.

"Not so loud," he groaned, putting a pillow over his head.

"Awww, has poor Captain America been felled by the evil Asgardian liquor?" you teased. "If only the Nazis had known your one true weakness. World War II would have ended so differently."

"Never again," Steve moaned, rolling over onto his back.

"See, I feel like you say 'never again,' yet there's always a next time," you joked, poking him in the side through his undershirt. "Come on, up and at'em, Cap. I gotta get ready to leave for Atlantic City."

Steve's eyes flew open at the mention of the mission. "Oh, shit," he said, sitting upright. "I need to make sure your fake IDs and documents are fully ready before you go!" He jumped to his feet, scrambling to put his shoes back on.

"Language, Cap," you teased as you walked him to the door.

You opened it for him, and he stepped out, then turned around to look at you. "Are we good, Pocket?" he asked, worry stretched across his brow. "I know last night was... Well, it wasn't our usual. I just want to make sure we're okay."

You leaned up and planted a sweet kiss on his cheek. "We're golden, Stevie," you murmured. "Thank you for last night. You were great. Really." He smiled before pulling you in for a tight, one-armed hug.

"Thanks, Pocket." He kissed the crown of your head. "I'll see you in a bit." You closed the door behind him and let out a content sigh. You would not have anticipated ending last night the way you did, but you had to admit, you weren't upset with the way things had played out. You moved back into your room and grabbed your duffle bag out from underneath your bed. You still had a few hours left before you and Sam were scheduled to leave for New Jersey, but you hadn't yet packed a thing.

After a while, a knock on your door caught your attention. Smiling to yourself, you went to answer.

"Sorry, Stevie, you're not getting this shirt back any--" your voice faltered when you saw that it wasn't Steve standing at your door, but Bucky.

And he looked like shit. His eyes were rimmed in red, and he was still wearing the same clothes from last night. His face looked haggard, as if he hadn't slept. But the most noticeable thing of all was the hard set of his jaw.

"Are you trying to kill me, Pocket?" he asked with a voice that was rough with agony. "Did you really want to get back at me that badly?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, Barnes," you said, your own voice clipped. You put your arms across your chest, feeling the need to cover yourself. The motion only served to draw Bucky's attention to what you were wearing.

"Is that his fucking shirt?" he growled, and for a moment, it was a sick mirror of the night the two of you had first slept together, but then you realized immediately-- this wasn't about you. It was about Steve.

"Relax, Barnes," you said, rolling your eyes. As if, for once, he truly gave a shit about you. "I'm not trying to seduce your boy to my dark side of the Force. He's still your best friend."

"Like hell he is, now!" Bucky shouted at you, and the ferocity of his words caused you to step back. Bucky advanced on you, stepping further into your room. “For fucks’ sake, (Y/N)! I asked one thing of you! I begged– if you ever wanted to sleep with someone to hurt me, I’d hate it, but I’d understand, but I told you if it was Steve it would fucking kill me!”

Bucky had never, ever called you by your real name before, and the sound of it from his mouth felt like a slap in the face. You'd told him how much you'd hated it, because it was the name your mother had given you, that you shared with her, and that version of you had died when you were finally able to escape from your old life.

“That’s rich, coming from you,” you said, and you were amazed you’d managed to keep your voice calm. Cold, emotionless. “How many times did I beg you to stay away from Carthage? How many times did you reduce me to a crying mess over her, knowing how much I despised her and what she was doing to us? But you just had to fuck her, anyway, didn’t you?

“And even now, you still rub it in my face and expect me to have any fucking respect for you? How dare you show up to my party with that filthy cunt by your side? Were you trying to embarrass me in front of everyone who actually cares about me? Do you get off on watching my heart break? On causing me pain?”

“I didn’t go to the party with her,” he said. He’d lowered the tone of his voice now, but it was still full of anger. “She showed up, kept following me. Asking me to be with her. I couldn’t get her away from me all night! I wanted to talk to you, to apologize, but I didn’t want to cause a scene, to take attention away from you.”

“Oh, well, my fucking hero, then,” you said, slowly clapping. “Forgive me if I don’t leap into your arms with gratitude. Seem to find myself out of fucks to give where you’re concerned. Can’t imagine why.”

“Because you’re with Steve now?” Bucky asked, his voice dangerously low.

“Who I do or do not sleep with stopped being your business the second you decided to stick your dick in that bitch,” you told him.

“It’s my business because you’re still my girl!” he shouted at you. You were sure Jade was having the time of her life listening in on your conversation right now.

“Really?” you asked him, stone-faced. “Fucking really?! You need to go, Barnes." Your voice was cold, steady, and you were proud of yourself for not shaking the way you were shaking inside. "If you think I'm trying to steal Steve from you, you can go talk to him about it. I don't have anything more to say to you." You moved to the side of your door, holding it open for him, expectantly. He ran his hands through his hair.

"This is just cruel, Pocket," he murmured.

"You'd know all about that, wouldn't you?" you asked him.

"Do you care about him?" he asked. “Or were you just trying to get back at me? To hurt my feelings like I hurt yours?”

"I believe you'll find I wasn't thinking about your feelings at all, Barnes. Now go away, before I have FRIDAY call Thor to kick your ass out of here." He looked at you before he left, and his expression was completely broken. If you hadn't been so angry at him, it would have made your heart shatter into a thousand pieces. But that sympathy belonged to a friend, to a lover, you didn't have anymore.

Finally, with a dejected sigh, Bucky walked out, leaving you to shut and lock the door behind him, though you knew that, if he really wanted to come back in, the flimsy lock would do nothing to stop him.

*

As soon as you and Steve got into the elevator to head down to your room, you were all over each other. Hands and lips exploring every inch of bare skin you could find. You barely managed to make it to your bed before you were unbuttoning his shirt, tossing it to the floor as your hands ran over his muscles.

“God, Pocket,” Steve moaned as he sucked into the skin of your neck. “Want you so bad. Wanted you for so long.”

You didn’t answer him, just moaned as his hand began snaking its way up your thigh to cup your covered heat. You stayed like that for a bit, kissing one another as Steve’s hand rubbed against your sensitive clothed flesh and you palmed him through his pants.

“I’ve been dreaming about this for so long, doll.”

The word, coming from Steve’s lips, froze you, your entire body tensing up as though you’d been caught doing something you weren’t supposed to. Sensing your loss of enthusiasm, Steve pulled away.

“Calling you ‘doll’ was a mistake, wasn’t it?” he asked, running a hand through his sandy hair.

Coming back to yourself, you put your face in your hands. “I’m so sorry, Steve, I can’t do this. You’re drunk, I’m high as fuck… it would be a huge mistake we’d both regret in the morning.”

Steve sighed, repositioning himself to sit up against your headboard. “Part of me says ‘fuck, let’s make a mistake,’ but the part of me that I know I’m going to listen to knows that you’re right. Besides,” he added, “as much as I lo– care about you, I don’t want to hurt Bucky.”

“Ugh,” you groaned, hitting your head against the headboard with a crack, “don’t say his name. I don’t want to think about him.”

Steve readjusted his positioning so he sat facing you. “What the hell happened between you two, Pocket? One minute, you’re both the happiest I’ve ever seen you, and the next you’re screaming at each other from across the conference table.”

You turned to face him, skeptical. “You act like he hasn’t told you everything already,” you said, not buying his ‘I know nothing’ act.

Steve shrugged. “He hasn’t. When the two of you started dating, he and I, we, uh, we made a promise that we weren’t going to talk about it, about the two of you.”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, cool, so you just acted like I didn’t fucking exist?”

Steve looked abashed. “No! Not at all; I’m sorry– I should have worded it better. What I meant was, we didn’t talk about your relationship. Bucky knew how I felt. He loved you too much to step aside–not that I ever would have asked him to, anyway! But he didn’t want to rub it in my face, so he kept it private. He didn’t want to cause me pain.”

You snorted “Wish he would have afforded me the same courtesy,” you grumbled.

“What happened, Pocket?” Steve asked again.

You thought about it for a moment, torn between wanting to share the truth with someone who cared enough to ask, but also wanting, in a weird, sick way, to protect Bucky from having his best friend think any less of him. But you didn’t owe him anything anymore.

So, you told Steve everything.

You told him about the weird way Bucky had fixated on Jade’s profile when Tony had first presented it, how he had made so many sweet promises to be the best goddamned boyfriend, yet had broken them again and again.

You told him about Jade’s increasing demands on his time, and how he couldn’t seem to say no to her, his claims that he was only interested in getting to know her as a friend because of their shared Hydra history.

You told Steve about the sparring match you witnessed, the intense, almost sexual energy between them, and the way other agents had picked up on it. About the way he left you, alone and forgotten at Central Park. How he stopped in the middle of having sex with you to answer her phone call. How you begged him to understand how it was making you feel, but he promised you there was nothing there, that you were being irrational.

You told him about that horrible night when he’d brought Jade’s kinks into your bedroom, and the words he’d spoken because she told him that’s what she liked to hear. And you told him about what you found in his texts, about what happened between them on the Russia mission, how he had come home after and made love to you, had lied to you, betrayed you. You told him everything.

When you were finally done, Steve stared at you in silence for a moment. Eventually, he spoke: “I… I had no fucking idea, Pocket. I am so, so sorry.”

You shrugged. “It’s my own damned fault,” you said. “I should have never even slept with him in the first place. I let him break my heart over and over again, because I loved him so fucking much, and I was so scared of losing him. I did this to myself.”

Steve gently (for him, at least) knocked your shoulder with his own. “Hey,” he admonished, “stop that. You’re not the one who lied, who cheated. God, I can’t believe he would do that to you. He had the most perfect, amazing girl, and he just– Sorry.” Steve’s cheeks turned a shade of red. “If it makes you feel any better, I don’t think he loves her, or has any real feelings for her, not the way he does for you, anyway.”

You tilted your head. “It actually doesn’t, Steve. I could almost understand it, if he loved her. You can’t help who you fall in love with. But, if he did all this, without having any real feelings for her? It just means that he didn’t actually give a shit about me, doesn’t it? He was willing to give up everything we had, willing to break my fucking heart, for someone he didn’t really care about.”

“I don’t think it’s that simple, Pocket,” Steve said with a sigh. “I’m not making excuses for him, but Bucky’s been through literal hell. More than we’ll probably ever know, because there are things he just won’t share, and there are things his psyche remembers, but his waking mind never will. I know that, with Jade, Bucky thought he finally found someone who could truly understand all the trauma he’d been through, all the agony. It’s one thing for him to tell you or I, but we can never really get it. I think he came into this looking for a friend, and she was looking for something entirely different.”

You thought back to the suspicions Sam had voiced after the disastrous mission that had left Rhodey so gravely wounded. “Are you saying you think she has some kind of ulterior motive here, Steve?”

Steve looked at you, puzzled. “No, of course not. I just meant– I think she saw him, and she wanted him. I did end up watching the security footage from her tour, you know.” He smirked at you. “I heard what she said about him. I think that she saw an opening, a way to get close to him, and she took it. She used it to do whatever she could to drive a wedge between the two of you, and push him closer to her.”

“He’s not a puppet anymore, Steve” you spat. “He has agency. He’s responsible for his own actions.”

“I know,” Steve said placatingly. “I’m not saying he isn’t a complete dumbass. He made some terrible decisions. I’m just saying I think he had some bad influences working on him that may have pushed him in a certain direction he never would have taken without them.”

“It doesn’t excuse anything,” you told him, crossing your arms over your chest. “It just means I can’t trust him. That he doesn’t deserve me.”

“I’m not arguing with you, Pocket,” Steve said. “I’m just… I’m just trying to understand where he was coming from, why he would do something like that, when I know for a fact he loves you. Wants to spend the rest of his life with you.”

You scoffed in an attempt to hold back the tears that you were afraid were on the way. “Well, he sure has a fucked up way of showing it,” you said with a sniffle.

“Hey, come here,” Steve wrapped his arms around you and pulled you to his chest. “It’s okay. Let it out. This is a safe space, you don’t have to put on a brave face for me.”

And you didn’t. You let yourself cry all the tears you’d been trying to bury inside of you since you read those horrible text messages. You cried for what you had, and what could have been. And Steve Rogers, beautiful, amazing friend that he was, held you through it all, despite the fact that he was in love with you, and you were shedding tears for another man. He held you late into the night until you both drifted off into a fitful sleep, though for two entirely, very different, reasons.

*

You stepped into the conference room, still wearing Steve’s shirt, though you’d paired it with a pair of leggings and a belt, and your go-bag slung over your shoulder. You figured if Bucky thought the two of you had slept together, you may as well feed into the notion. Good. Let him have a taste of his own fucking medicine. You smiled when you saw Sam had beat you there and was already sitting at the conference table, chatting with Steve.

You sat down next to Sam. “Morning, boys,” you said, voice more cheerful than you felt after your confrontation with Bucky earlier. “Are we ready to rock and roll?”

“Damn, Baby Girl!” Sam grinned back at you as he took in your altered appearance. After you finished packing, you’d met with a hair stylist and had her dye your hair from its normal hue to a more stripper-appropriate bubble bath pink, and had her put in extensions so your hair came down to your ass in long, loose curls.

Steve just smiled at your transformation and slid you a manilla folder. You opened it up to find a fake ID, documentation, and a brief dossier with your cover history.

“I hope you don’t mind, Pocket,” Steve began, “but I discussed it with Tony and we decided it would be best if you resumed your old dancer alias. That way, if anyone has any questions about your background, there’s a legitimate history for them to follow up on.” You nodded that was smart.

“Cherry Pie’s back in action, then?” you grinned.

Steve smiled. “Looks like. Tony also wanted to apologize for not being here to say goodbye; there was some need for Iron Man’s services in Belize early this morning.” You nodded, sad that you had to miss out on saying goodbye to him, and to thank him for the party, especially when you didn’t know how long it would be before you saw him again. “He also said to tell you he’s arranged to have all your presents moved up to your new room for when you get back but, if you want them at any point while you’re in Atlantic City, to just let him know and he’ll…” Steve paused to check to check a piece of paper that apparently had Tony’s instructions on them, “‘fly them down myself because if she thinks I’m going to let her stay undercover with that birdbrain–’”

“Hurtful!” interjected Sam.

“‘--with that birdbrain and not come down and personally check to make sure she’s still alive, she’s gonna have to think again.’” Steve finished.

You laughed. “Yeah, alright. Tell him I said thanks,” you said.

Before anything more could be said, your attention was caught by a ruckus outside the conference room. You could hear the sound of doors being slammed open and someone stomping their way down the hall toward you, and an angry voice bellowing out “ROGERS!”

“Oh shit, Cap,” Sam grinned, “What’d you do?”

Bucky came barreling through the double doors of the conference room, sending them both flying into the adjacent walls with a thud. His gaze bore into Steve as he stalked toward him.

“IF YOU THINK, FOR ONE GODDAMNED SECOND, THAT YOU CAN FUCK MY GIRL AND GET AWAY WITH IT–”

He paused when his gaze took in you and Sam. “Oh… I’m sorry, miss. I didn’t realize–”

“He thinks we had sex, Steve,” you said, crossing your arms, “and for some reason he feels he has the right to be upset about it.” You shrugged your shoulders. “Can’t seem to get it through his thick skull that I’m no longer ‘his girl.’”

Bucky did a double take. “Pocket?!” he stuttered, flabbergasted at the sight of you. “What– what the fuck did you do to your hair?” You rolled your eyes and turned away.

“Bucky,” Steve took a step toward his friend. “We’re in the middle of a pre-mission briefing. What the hell’s gotten into you?” he asked.

Bucky looked from you to Steve, and back again. “I want to hear you admit it, you fucking punk,” he said, pushing Steve with both hands in the chest. Steve stumbled backward.

“Yo, man,” Sam said, standing up, “what the actual fuck?”

“He slept with Pocket,” Bucky said, his voice beginning to rise. “He slept with my girl and I want to hear him fucking admit it to my face.”

Now it was Sam’s turn to look between you and Steve. “Whoa, Baby Girl. That true?”

You sighed. “No, Samuel. It’s not true.” You cast an angry glance at Bucky. “First, I’m not Bucky’s anything. He made damned sure of that all on his own.” At Sam’s confused expression, you added “Just ask him about what he and Carthage got up to in Russia together.” Sam’s eyes widened and he gave Bucky a disapproving look. “Second, I got high last night, danced with Steve, we went back to my room, we talked, and we fell asleep.”

“You gonna stand there and lie to my fucking face, Pocket?” Bucky yelled. “You answered the door in nothing but his fucking shirt!”

“Okay, first of all, I’m not sure what part of ‘you have no right to be angry about it even if I did’ you don’t understand, and second, I was still wearing a skirt under that shirt, asshole, so, technically, fully dressed. Steve slept in his undershirt, and I just threw the button-up on because my shirt got all tangled up in the night. Nothing happened.”

“Well,” Steve interjected, “I wouldn’t say nothing ha–”

“Jesus Christ, Steve,” you uttered, just as Bucky threw himself at his friend with an angry roar. Sam jumped in to break the two men up, but he was no match for two super soldiers. The two men tousled on the ground, and you could just make out a portion of the insults and accusations they were throwing at one another.

“If you laid one finger on her–”

“--can’t believe you cheated–”

Having had quite enough of their testosterone display, you grabbed the pitcher of ice water that was sitting on the conference table and, walking over to where Steve currently had Bucky pinned to the floor, dumped its entire contents over both their heads.

“Are you both quite finished?” you asked, annoyed as fuck as the two men spluttered and worked to extricate themselves from one another. “You’re acting pathetic, and Sam and I have places to be.”

Steve reached a hand down to help Bucky get up. “We didn’t sleep together, Buck,” Steve said. “We just… made out a little.”

Bucky looked like he was about to launch himself at Steve again before Steve added “But we knew it was wrong and a mistake and we stopped almost immediately. That’s it, I swear. I would never do that to you, man. You gotta know that. You’re my best friend. To the end of the line, remember?”

Bucky pushed his wet hair back, away from his face. “Yeah, I know. I’m sorry, punk.”

“I’m sorry, too.”

You rolled your eyes. Reaching across the conference table, you grabbed the files that held the paperwork for you and Sam and handed them to him. “And with that touching display of toxic masculinity,” you said, furious that the two men had been fighting over who got to have access to your body like you were some sort of toy, “Sam and I have a mission to get to.” Slinging your duffle bag over your shoulder, you motioned for Sam to follow you back out the conference room doors.

Just as you reached them, you turned back around. “Oh, and Steve?” you added, knowing you were about to throw a match onto a recently diffused powder keg, but not caring the least little bit about the oncoming explosion. Both Bucky and Steve turned to look at you. “Don’t forget to tell Barnes about having your hand on my cunt.” With that, you walked out, Sam cackling behind you and the sounds of Bucky screaming at Steve echoing in your wake.

*

“That was pure evil,” Sam said as you both buckled your seatbelts in the convertible you’d be using for the mission. “I knew you were a genius, Baby Girl, but damn! Didn’t realize it was evil genius! Remind me never to get on your bad side!”

You smiled and shrugged, adjusting your hair in the visor mirror and putting on a pair of sunglasses. “Serves them right, acting like I’m a fucking piece of property either one of them can claim ownership of. I hope they break each other’s noses.”

Sam laughed as he pulled the car out of the Tower’s underground parking garage and onto the city street. “We got about a two and a half hour drive,” he said. “What do you feel like listening to?”

You were prevented from answering by the sound of Cherry Pie by Warrant filling the car. You both looked around for a moment before you realized it was coming from your phone. You picked it up, staring at the screen in confusion when you saw Tony’s name flash across the screen.

“You asshole, did you hack my phone?” you asked, putting him on speaker, “Because this was certainly not your ringtone.”

“Can you blame an old man for feeling nostalgic?” Tony asked, and you could hear the grin in his voice. “Did Cap give you my message?”

“Yes,” you said, eying Sam, “and Sam was very hurt when you called him ‘birdbrain.’” Sam did his best to stifle his laugh.

You could practically hear Tony roll his eyes. “Yeah, well Rogers needs to learn not to repeat everything word for word. Listen, kiddo, I meant what I said about visiting, though. You need anything, anything at all while you’re gone, you call me, okay? I can be there before you even hang up the phone.”

You let out an exasperated sigh. “Jesus, Tony. I’m not a child, and Sam’ll have my back. I know I’m not a mighty Avenger like the rest of you, but I’m not incompetent. I’ve been trained–”

“Whoa, whoa,” Tony interrupted you, “that’s not why I’m worried. Not at all. I know you can more than handle yourself. Hell, I’d send you on this mission solo– that’s how much faith I have in your abilities.” You smiled unexpectedly at that. “I’m concerned about how this mission’s going to affect you mentally and emotionally, given your–”

You immediately took him off speaker and held the phone to your ear as he continued “--history. We’re dealing with missing women who are likely being trafficked for sex. If that’s not gonna be a potential trigger for you, I don’t know what is.”

“I’m not fragile, Boss,” you said, your voice softer now. In all the turmoil you’d gone through since finding out about Bucky and Carthage, you honestly hadn’t given much consideration to what the mission might mean to you on a psychological level.

“I never said you were, kiddo. I know you’re strong. But, this is a lot. You’ve just been dealt a major blow because of Barnes and I’m putting you back in a position that’s a lot closer to your old life than you’ve been living in a long, long time. You’ve come so far, and, well, I guess I’m concerned that I’m doing you more harm than good by sending you backwards.”

“Thanks, Tony,” you murmured, touched that he was still looking out for you, even from a distance. “That means a lot.”

“Just promise me– if it gets to be too much, if at any point you're struggling, you’ll tell me. I’ll pull you out, mission be damned.”

“But Boss,” you interjected, “these women need our help! We can’t just–”

“I know that, Pocket,” he countered, “and we will help them. But I’m not going to risk your mental wellbeing to do it. If it gets to be too much, we’ll pull you out, and we’ll find another way. Trust me.”

Your trust was running in short supply these days, but if there was one person who had never failed you, had never let you down, and was deserving of all the trust you had to offer, it was Tony Stark. “Yeah, okay,” you eventually agreed. “I promise. If it gets to be too much for me, I’ll let you know.”

“Good,” said Tony, and you knew he’d probably expected more of a fight from you, but you were too mentally exhausted to put one up. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I promised Pepper I’d do a stopover in Havana on my way home from Belize and pick up this massage oil she absolutely loves. See, it warms up when you–”

“Good bye, Tony,” you laughed, ending the call before he could go into further nauseating detail. You shook your head, smiling to yourself.

You noticed Sam glancing over at you. “What?” you asked him.

“Nothin’” he said, eyes back on the road. “Just think it’s sweet how much Tony cares about you, that’s all. I knew you two were close, like brother and sister, but I never saw it in action before. It’s nice.”

“Oh,” you said, surprised he hadn’t jumped to the typical conclusions people came to when they considered your relationship. “Yeah, he’s really been the best.”

“So, how did you two meet, anyway?” Sam asked as the two of you pulled onto the highway. “I know Tony said the strip club, but I figure there’s got to be more to it than that. If you don’t mind sharing, that is. I mean, we still have two hours of driving left to do.”

You chuckled. “Nah, it’s alright– I don’t mind telling you. It’s actually kind of a funny story…”

Chapter 22: Untold

Chapter Text

Boston, 2002

The bass inside the club was pounding, reverberating through the air and your skull as you made your way onto the floor. The day had already been unbearably long, and after your shift tonight, you still had a mountain of reading to do for your Introduction to Data Structures and Algorithms class. But, MIT courses didn’t come cheap, even at two classes a semester, and you needed every penny you could make from your shifts at Beantown Burlesque. It would make more sense, financially, to work a club closer to the college, but the idea of running into any of your classmates or, god forbid, your professors, made the extra time and money you spent commuting from Cambridge to inner Boston completely worth it.

Not that you expected a lot of tips tonight. It would have been better if you’d been scheduled to work the stage before they sent you to the floor; you were always requested for more lap dances after the patrons had seen you work the pole. You’d just have to work your ass off to entice a couple of lonely men into the VIP booth. But that always came with the additional task of fighting off requests for additional “services.” You may have been desperate for cash, but you were quite done with having your body sold for money, thank you.

You made your way over to the bar, hoping to get some intel on tonight’s patrons so you could shoot your best shot.

“How’s it goin’ tonight, Cherry Pie?” the bartender, Mac, asked, using the pseudonym you’d chosen for your stage name when you started at the club a year ago.

“No complaints yet, Mac,” you said, gratefully accepting the glass of water he offered you– it was important to stay hydrated, after all, “but then again, the night is very young.”

Mac let out a gruff laugh as he wiped down a glass. “You’re too young to be so cynical, Cherr,” he said.

You shrugged. That was an understatement. “Any good prospects tonight?” you asked, leaning your elbows on the bartop.

Mac nodded his chin toward a group of young men sitting close to the stage. “That group over there’s racked up a pretty big tab so far. Think they’re from the MIT alumni conference.” That piqued your interest. Beantown Burlesque might not be the ideal place to network, but you’d honestly take whatever you could get.

“They seem decent enough?” you asked Mac.

“About as decent as any group of blokes that come here,” he offered. “But they’ve been pretty respectful so far; no one’s tried to put hands anywhere they shouldn’t.”

“Good enough for me,” you told him. With a parting wave, you sauntered over to the group, making sure to put some extra sway in your hips. As you approached, you surveyed the collection of men. They all seemed to be centering their focus on one man in particular– he was dark haired with a goatee and wearing a pair of tinted glasses and looked vaguely familiar, though you couldn’t place where you might have seen him before. You clocked his expensive loafers and custom Armani suit, and the way the others around him laughed a little too loudly at what he was saying.

That’s the one, you thought to yourself. He had the money. If you were going to make your rent on time this month, he was the one you’d need to impress.

“You boys fancy some company tonight?” you asked once you approached the group. The man with the goatee leaned forward, a sure sign of interest, and looked at you over the lens of his glasses.

“Well, gorgeous,” he said with a smirk, “we're not ones to turn down an offer for good companionship, especially from someone as captivating as you. But let's be real, the question is whether you can keep up with us. Think you're ready for the challenge?”

Oh, this one was cocky. You could work with that. You trailed your fingertips along the tops of his shoulders as you made your way around to the table in front of him. Without breaking eye contact, you picked up the double shot of whiskey sitting there and downed the entire thing in one swig without flinching.

The other men in the group whooped and hollered at your display, but the man with the goatee just studied you with a peculiar look on his face. “What’s your name, sweetheart?” he asked.

“You can call me Cherry Pie,” you said as you began swaying your hips to the rhythm of the music coming through the speakers.

“I didn’t ask what they call you here,” he said, leaning back as you put your hands on his shoulder and began swaying in between his legs. “I asked for your name.”

“You haven’t spent nearly enough to earn that, honey,” you said as you gyrated.

The man laughed at that, then, reaching for his wallet, pulled out a handful of crisp, one hundred dollar bills. He gently tucked them into the waistband of your bottoms. “How’s that?”

You looked at the bills tucked into your underwear. By your guess, there was about eight hundred dollars there. You just might make rent, after all. “It’s a start,” you shrugged, beginning your tried and true lap dance routine.

One of the other men in the group let out a loud laugh. “She’s sure got your number, Stark!”

At the name, your eyes shot to the man with the goatee’s face, and it suddenly clicked for you. “Holy shit,” you breathed. “You’re Tony Stark.”

Stark smiled. “Guilty as charged, sweetheart.”

“Your company’s network security sucks ass,” you told him, the words coming out of your mouth before you could stop them.

He quirked an eyebrow at that. “Excuse me?”

Fuck. “Uh, nothing, sorry. Forget I said anything.” You put a renewed vigor back into your dance.

“Um, no.” Stark said, grasping your wrist firmly enough to encourage you to stop dancing, but gently enough to let you know he posed you no threat. “I want to hear how a stripper knows the faults of my network security.”

You blushed at that. “I, uh, may have broken in the back door and temporarily held your system hostage for ten minutes last May,” you confessed.

“That was you?” Stark exclaimed. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he sounded… impressed. “You paralyzed our entire operation!”

“Yeah… sorry about that.” Well, you could kiss any further tips goodbye, that was for sure.

“Why’d you relinquish control back to us?” he asked. “You could have held it for ransom; we would have paid whatever you asked for.”

Huh. You had never even considered doing that. “Well, um, actually, I did it as part of a final project? For my Engineering Ethics and Professionalism course at MIT?”

Stark cocked his head at you. “With Erickson?” You nodded, and Stark actually laughed. “He still a narcissistic son of a bitch?”

You chuckled and nodded. “Sexist, too. He nearly shat a brick when he had to watch a mere girl bring a Fortune 500 company to its knees.”

Stark laughed, heartily. “I’ll bet he did! What I wouldn’t have given to see his face!”

“I set up a camera to record it,” you told him. “I can make you a copy of the VHS, if you want. I needed to capture the moment for posterity.”

From there, the atmosphere and your position in the group shifted. You were no longer the entertainment. Tony (he insisted you call him that) invited you to join him as his equal, and for the next several hours, he picked your brain, testing your knowledge and asking you questions about yourself, much to the displeasure of the rest of his group. One by one, they departed, until it was just the two of you. You were having the time of your life. You figured you’d never again have the opportunity to sit back and just hang out with such an icon of the tech community, and you were going to make the most of it. Now, here you were playing a game of Never Have I Ever.

“Never have I ever sheared a sheep,” Tony said with a grin.

“Why, Mr. Stark,” you said, bringing your glass to your lips (you failed to mention that, technically, you weren’t legally old enough to drink), “you haven’t truly lived until you’ve shorn the raw wool from an unwilling ewe.”

“You’re shitting me,” Tony said, laughing.

You took the glass from your lips without drinking. “You got me,” you told him. I grew up in Dayton. Not a whole lotta opportunities for sheep shearing there.”

A mischievous glint came into Tony’s eyes. “Your shift’s got to be almost over,” he said. “What do you say, Cherry Pie? Wanna go shear a sheep?”

“(Y/N),” you told him. “My name’s (Y/N), and I would fucking love to.”

*

Twenty minutes later, you and Tony were pulling out of the parking lot of a 24-hour Walmart, a pair of garden shears in the back of Tony’s Audi A8 and directions to the nearest sheep farm that you’d printed out from MapQuest in the club’s office in your hand

You had changed into an oversized MIT hoodie and pair of ultra low-rise bootcut jeans before leaving the club, and you were grateful, as the pre-dawn air was cool. You’d been driving for over an hour and a half and were nearly at your destination.

“Okay, make a left right here,” you told Tony, pointing toward a lonely dirt road. The Audi bumped along until you smacked Tony on the arm. “There!” you shouted. There was just enough light from the car’s headlights to make out a clump of shadows meandering near the fenceline. “The sheep!”

Tony put the car in park and got out. “Let’s do this,” he exclaimed as he got the shears from the backseat.

Cautiously, the two of you climbed between the wires of the fence keeping the sheep from the road, Tony using his suit jacket to prevent the barbs from catching on you.

“Ok, now what?” he asked once the two of you had made it into the sheeps’ pasture.

“Now,” you said, rubbing your hands together with glee, “we catch ourselves a sheep!”

It was much easier said than done, and before you knew it, the two of you were running around like madmen, trying to corral just one sheep into position so you could grab it. But the little rectangle-eyed bastards were on to you, and they weren’t giving up without a fight. Soon, you were both in fits of laughter after the third or fourth time one of you fell into the mud.

You were having so much fun that you didn’t realize you weren’t alone, until a bright spotlight was upon you. “Hold it right there,” a gruff voice shouted.

You and Tony immediately froze and threw your hands in the air at the sound of a gun’s safety coming undone. “Don’t move,” said the voice behind the spotlight. “The police are on their way.”

*

“How many times do I have to tell you,” you told the officer who was questioning you, “we weren’t trying to steal the sheep, we were just trying to shear them.” You and Tony had been brought to the local police station and informed you were both going to be charged with trespassing, attempted theft, and criminal mischief. They’d separated the two of you, and you were doing your damned best to make sure that they at least dropped the attempted theft charge. “I demand to see the criminal statute that makes that illegal,” you said.

The officer rubbed his face with his hand. You’d been at this for awhile now, and it was obvious he regretted getting stuck with you.

The door to the interrogation room swung open, and another cop stuck his head in. “Jones,” he said, addressing the officer, “her lawyer’s here. We gotta cut her loose.” Lawyer? You didn’t have a lawyer. You couldn’t fucking afford a lawyer.

The other cop motioned for you to exit the interrogation room, which you did happily, and quickly, not wanting to spend another minute more in there than you had to. In the lobby, you saw Tony quietly speaking to a gray-haired gentleman.

“Ah, (Y/N),” he said when he saw you approach. “This is my attorney, Mr. Mitchell. He’s going to be representing the both of us over this little misunderstanding.”

You shook hands with the lawyer, but said “I’m sorry, but I won’t be able to utilize your services, Mr. Mitchell. I’m pretty sure they have to provide me with an attorney, as I most certainly cannot afford one.”

Tony scoffed at that. “Please. I got you into this, the least I can do is make sure you’ve got legal counsel.”

His words took you aback. You were so unaccustomed to having someone do something kind for you (even if, technically, the entire endeavor had been his idea) without expecting something in return.

“I’m not going to sleep with you in exchange for a lawyer, Tony,” you said.

Tony looked offended. “No offense, but you’re way too young for me. Besides, I don’t need to get girls a lawyer to get them to sleep with me, thank you very much.”

“If you’ll excuse me,” Mr. Mitchell said with an awkward cough, “I need to speak to the desk sergeant about finalizing your bail. The older man walked off, leaving you and Tony alone.

“Sorry about that,” you murmured. “I guess I’m just not used to people doing nice things for me without wanting something in exchange.”

Tony studied you. “You strike me as a girl who’s had to grow up pretty quickly,” he said. His voice wasn’t pitying, but it was sad. You just shrugged.

“Well,” he said after a moment, “the press will have a field day with this. I can see the headline now: ‘From Billionaire to Baaaaad Boy: Playful Playboy Arrested in Woolly Misadventure’.”

You snorted at that. “I can make sure they never hear about it,” you said.

Tony cocked his head at you. “Oh, you can, can you?” he asked.

You glanced over to where the precinct’s receptionist sat at her computer. “Can you cause a distraction? Get her away from that terminal for about five minutes?”

Tony brought a hand to his chin. “Like taking candy from a baby,” he said. He sauntered up to the receptionist and slammed his hand down on the counter, causing her to jump.

“Excuse me!” he shouted at her. “I demand to speak to your superior officer! I have never been treated so disrespectfully in my life!”

The receptionist blanched. “I’m sorry sir, but if you have a complaint, you can fill out–”

“DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM?” Tony shouted. “I demand you take me to your superior officer this instant, or I will have your job! My taxes pay your salary!”

The poor woman was frazzled as she led Tony back into the bowels of the precinct. As soon as they were out of sight, you ran around the counter to the terminal. It was only a matter of moments before you were able to locate the files for you and Tony, and with a few quick keystrokes, you had deleted them as though they never existed.

You quickly checked the pile of paper files waiting to be sorted, locating the case files for both you and Tony. Checking to make sure the receptionist and Tony weren’t yet on their way back, you stuffed them down into the very bottom of the public trash can before running back to stand exactly where Tony had left you.

In a few more moments, Tony and Mr. Mitchell came out from the back of the station together.

“Well, that was quite fortuitous,” Mr. Mitchell said. “It appears that there was some sort of computer error and your charges were erased from the system.” You avoided Tony’s glance at you as Mr. Mitchell continued. “The desk sergeant has agreed to contact me once they’ve re-entered the information from the paper files. For now, you’re both free to go. Tony,” he shook Stark’s hand, “always a pleasure. And Ms. (Y/L/N),” you shook his offered hand. “It was lovely to meet you.”

“You, too, Mr. Mitchell,” you said. “And thank you so much.”

You and Tony followed the lawyer out, and as Tony started the Audi to begin your drive back to Boston, he turned to look at you.

“So, kiddo,” he said, having learned you were just nineteen from your police intake, “how would you like a job?”

You stared at him, eyes wide. “Are you serious?” you asked. There was no way he was serious. An offer like this could change the trajectory of your entire life.

“Like a heart attack,” he said.

You grinned at him. “When do I start, Boss?”

Chapter 23: Undressed

Chapter Text

The Wiggle Room was nothing like Beantown Burlesque, of that you were certain. For a strip club, Beantown had still managed to cater to a relatively upscale clientele, demanding exorbitant cover charges, selling overpriced drinks, and charging a premium for lap and private dances– hell, Tony Stark had gone there. And they never, ever, encouraged you to take on any ‘extra’ services for customers. Sure, clients asked, but girls were fired for accepting, and if a client wouldn’t take your ‘no’ for an answer, Beantown’s bouncers were more than happy to send them flying out the door on their asses.

You quickly learned that The Wiggle Room played by an entirely different set of rules when a customer asked if he could snort a line of coke off of your ass during your first shift. Everyone, it seemed, was high on some kind of drug, customers and coquettes alike. It made it surprisingly easy to get information out of people without rousing too much suspicion onto yourself.

Within the first two weeks, you and Sam were able to uncover that most, if not all, of the missing women you were investigating had either been, or tried out to be, dancers, bought drugs, or prostituted themselves out of the club. You were definitely in the epicenter of the disappearances. You positively had the where, but you were still far from discovering the why and the who.

You and Sam had set up a temporary case board in the dining nook of the apartment you were using as your safehouse. The two of you had already been good friends, but playing a couple at the club and sharing tight accommodations had intensified the power of your bond, and as you sat in front of the case board eating your Chinese takeout together, you couldn’t help but rib one another.

“Lavender definitely has a thing for you,” you pointed your chopsticks at him, referring to one of the club’s older dancers, who, at 45, had taken a shine to the Falcon from the moment he’d taken his position as member of the club’s security team.

“Well, can you blame her?” Sam said, slurping up the noodles of his lo mein. “Hard to resist a good piece of dark chocolate, and Ole Sammy’s a fine box of Godiva.”

You wrinkled up your face. “Okkkay,” you said, “ignoring the fact that there’s so much gross in that statement that I don’t even know where to begin, should I give her your number, then?”

Sam nearly choked on his food. “Absolutely not!” he coughed. “She’s got six kids!”

“Wow, Samuel,” you said, pretending to be offended on Lavender’s behalf, “I didn’t realize you were prejudiced against single moms. Does your sister, Sarah, know that fascinating tidbit about you?”

“Nuh-uh, Baby Girl. Don’t you go tryin’ to put words in my mouth. I got nothin’ against single moms– they’re the backbone of this country– but Lavender’s also got six baby daddies she doesn’t know how to quit. I ain’t lookin’ for that kinda drama in my love life, thank you very much.”

You took a bite of your chicken & broccoli. “Fair point,” you conceded. “I’ll allow it.” Sam tipped his head to you in his thanks.

You let your attention drift back to the board. In addition to photos of the missing women, you’d also managed to populate it with a combination of ID photos and mugshots of the club’s employees and management. As you’d learned the identities of your coworkers, you’d been able to piece the hierarchy of the organization together, but you only got as far as the club’s owner, Vladimir Kozlov. When you’d sent his name and some covert photos back to the Tower, you hadn’t been surprised to receive word back from Natasha that Kozlov had, at one point, been a low-level thug in the Russian mob. What you hadn’t yet been able to decipher, however, was how he kept the club afloat. According to your research, the Wiggle Room was hemorrhaging money, its expenses far surpassing its recorded income, yet Kozlov dressed himself in the finest European suits and drove a seemingly never-ending rotation of sports cars that would rival Tony’s.

You and Sam had both come to the shared conclusion that Kozlov didn’t have the brain cells to run a successful, let alone lucrative, criminal operation on his own, and therefore, there must be silent partners involved in the club that you’d not yet been able to identify. The drugs that were sold out of the club could account for some of its income, but not nearly enough.

“I’ve got an idea,” you said, turning back to Sam.

“Why do I feel like someone just walked over my grave when you said that?” he asked you with an exaggerated shiver.

You cocked your head. “Probably because it’s a terrible one.” Nibbling on your lower lip, you debated whether or not to tell him. He was going to hate it, but you couldn’t think of a better way to get closer to Kozlov’s inner circle. “I think I should start buying drugs from Kozlov’s men.”

The look Sam gave you was withering. “Pocket,” he warned, “that’s an actual crime.”

“I’m not going to do them, Sam!” You put down your carton of rice. “I just need to make them think I am. Kozlov keeps the girls that buy from him close– he likes how they come to rely on him. I think it gets his rocks off to have them be dependent on him. I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if he lets things slip in front of them because they’re too strung out to pay attention.”

Sam seemed to consider your proposal. “I don’t like it, Baby Girl,” he said. “It sounds dangerous. What if he tries to take advantage of you?”

You held up the silver bangle that served as your distress signal. “Then I call for the calvary,” you said. “I won’t actually be high, so I’ll still have my wits about me.”

“So, you think you know enough about gettin’ high to fake it in front of a bunch of drug dealers?” Sam asked, clearly thinking you were overestimating your acting abilities.

You puffed a breath out of the corner of your mouth. “Yeeeeah. So, here’s the thing… I might have spent a good chunk of my teen years on a variety of illegal substances.”

Sam’s eyes went comically high. “Come again for Dark Chocolate?”

How to be truthful yet maintain your sense of dignity here? “Everyone at the Tower knows how my childhood was rough, yeah? That my parents were shit? And that’s the reason I don’t have anything to do with them?” Sam nodded. This much of your past, at least, was common knowledge, and you were more or less keen to leave it that way. “Alright, so, part of that shit was that my mom and her boyfriend were drug addicts. Mom preferred meth and booze, but the boyfriend was less discriminate. He’d do anything if it got him high enough. When he needed me to… let’s say ‘behave,’ he’d give me something, whatever he had on hand. Weed, MDMA, coke, benzos, Special K, opiates. Really didn’t matter to him. The drugs made me easier to control. So, I know how to act like I’m high, because I’ve been high. A lot.”

The look in Sam’s eyes morphed from disappointment at your idea to horror at your revelation. “Fuck. Baby Girl, I had no idea.” You couldn’t meet his gaze; unlike your past as a stripper, this was something you were deeply ashamed of.

“It’s fine, Sam,” you told him, picking your food carton up again just to give you something to focus on. “It was a long time ago.”

“What made you stop?” he asked, no judgment, just genuine sincerity in his question.

“Same thing that saved the rest of my sorry ass,” you shrugged, playing with the flaps of the paper carton. “Tony. By that point, though, it was mostly just Adderall to focus on school work and so I could stay awake to take more shifts at the club, and weed for when the Adderall wouldn’t let me sleep.”

“One time, I took too much Adderall to cram for a final, and I had a seizure. Tony had to take me to the hospital, and he was furious– I’ve honestly never seen him so mad. Trust me when I say it made his fight with Cap look like a playground spat. I thought for sure he was going to wash his hands of me.”

The memory of it played through your mind, the sheer disappointment in Tony’s eyes as the doctors told him what they’d found in your system.

“But, the thing was, Tony blamed himself, said he’d put too much pressure on me. Kept saying he was turning into his father, and he couldn’t have that. So, instead of tossing me out on my ass like he should have, he got me help.”

Sam’s mouth hung open. “I’m sorry, but I think we know two different Tony Starks. This altruism does not jive with the man I work with.”

You smiled and shrugged your shoulders again. “Not my fault he likes me better than you, Samuel. I am a lot cuter.”

“Debatable,” Sam replied before taking a swig of his beer. He looked thoughtful for a moment. “If you don’t think it’s gonna be too much of a temptation for you,” he said after a pause, “I think the drug-buying might work. We can give it a shot, at least.”

You sipped your iced tea. “Won’t be a problem, Sammy. The girl who constantly did that stuff is gone, and she’s not coming back.”

*

The plan was surprisingly successful. Well, it was in the beginning, anyway. You’d managed to do a fair job of faking being blitzed well enough in Kozlov’s presence to pick up some useful intel. A few days after you’d first started buying, you were in his private lounge, “tripping” as Kozlov spoke to a few of his men.

“Nachal'stvo nedovol'no tsiframi, kotoryye prinesli posledniye neskol'ko devushek,” he said in Russian, too cocky to think any of the women around him could understand what he was saying. The bosses aren't pleased with the numbers the last few girls have brought in. “Oni slishkom pokhozhi na krek-shlyukh, chtoby za nikh mozhno bylo platit' prilichno.” They look too much like crack whores to fetch decent prices.

“Chto zhe oni ot nas khotyat, boss?” the man you’d silently dubbed ‘Henchman #2’ asked. What do they want us to do, then, boss?

“Prinesite mne svezhikh devochek,” Kozlov said. Bring me fresh girls. “Molodyye devushki, khoroshen'kiye devushki. Devushki, kotoryye ne vyglyadyat izmuchennymi. Oni prinesut nam boleye vysokiye stavki, i zmei ne budut tak sil'no dyshat' nam v sheyu.” Young girls, pretty girls. Girls who do not look used up. They will bring us higher bids and the snakes will not breathe down our necks so much.

“YA nenavizhu etikh bossov, boss,” #2 said. I hate these bosses, boss. “Oni nikogda ne byvayut schastlivy i vsegda trebuyut ot nas vse bol'shego i bol'shego. YA ne ponimayu, pochemu my ne mozhem likvidirovat' zem seychas. U nas yest' klub; nam bol'she ne nuzhna ikh pomoshch'.” They are never happy, always demanding more and more of us. I do not understand why we cannot eliminate them now. We have the club; we do not need their help any longer.

Kozlov laughed mirthlessly. “Pozhaluysta, Dmitriy, no ty byl by durakom, yesli by popytalsya. Eti lyudi gorazdo boleye zhestoki, chem vy mozhete sebe predstavit'. A dazhe yesli udastsya ubit' odnogo – chto oni skazhut? ‘Otrubite odnu golovu, i na yeye meste vyrastut yeshche dve.’" You are welcome to it, Dimitri, but you would be a fool to try. These men are far more brutal than you can imagine. And even if you manage to kill one– what is it they say? ‘Cut off one head and two more will grow in its place.’

Holy fuck, you thought. You needed to get back to Sam.

*

“Sam!” you shouted as you burst into the safehouse. “I just hit the mother fucking jackpot of intel!” He was sitting on the couch, phone in hand as though he were talking to someone on speaker. A perfectly normal situation. So, why did he look like a deer caught in the headlights?

“Pocket?” Bucky’s voice came out tinny through the device. “Baby, is that you?”

Your entire body froze, all color draining from your face as though you’d just heard a ghost. The mission had taken up all of your headspace, leaving no room for Bucky Barnes to enter your thoughts these last few weeks, but now, all the memories, all the heartache, all the rage came rushing back.

“Lemme talk to her, Sam,” Bucky said.

“Uh,” Sam took in the sight of your clenched fist and the hard set of your jaw. “Don’t think that’s a good idea right now, Tin Man.”

“Don’t fucking tell me what’s a good idea, asshat. Let me talk to my girl.”

“Thinkin’ you and her might have differing opinions on that subject,” Sam said.

You needed to get out. Your logical brain told you that Bucky was Sam’s friend. It made full sense that he would talk to him. But your painfully broken, emotional heart felt that Bucky was just calling to continue tormenting you from a distance. Why was it getting so hard to breathe?

“Oh, hey, Jamie. Fancy running into you here.” Her voice was like a dagger to your heart. Even here, you couldn’t escape Jade Carthage. You could barely make out the sound of Bucky’s voice through the roaring of blood in your ears. You looked to Sam.

“They’re auctioning the girls to the highest bidder,” you told him in a monotone, not daring to risk any emotion for fear you’d come apart at the seams. “And I’m pretty sure Kozlov’s silent partners are Hydra.” Without another word, you grabbed your purse from where you’d deposited on the side table and walked out the door, ignoring the sound of Sam’s voice calling out behind you.

*

You were nursing your fourth Malibu and pineapple, more than a little drunk. The beachside bar was loud, a touristy spot, and if you weren’t halfway to plastered, you’d probably find its faux-tropical theme charming. Your brief quasi-interaction with Bucky was leaving you feeling restless and reckless, and you felt the urge to make some bad decisions.

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing in a bar all alone?” asked Bad Decision as he walked over to you. You looked him over. He was attractive, in a generic All-American kind of way, with shaggy brown hair and blue eyes. Not the crisp ocean blue that haunted your dreams, but close enough that you pretend in your inebriated state.

“I’m sorry,” Bad Decision said after you’d been silent for a moment too long. “It’s a horrible pick up line. Could you, maybe, pretend to write your number down on a napkin so my friends” he pointed behind his shoulder to a table “don’t roast me for failing miserably?”

You looked behind him to see a group of guys watching the interaction with intense interest.